Page 35 of Pressure Point

Fuck, I hope so…

Chapter Twelve

One of the worst sounds in the entire world was the subtle swish of the ball hitting the back of the net. At least Liam had always thought so.

Guys like Dash and Tiago, whose entire jobs relied on their ability to put the ball in that exact spot would say otherwise. But for a goalie, moments like this sucked.

Liam watched as the guys from Carolina huddled around their striker, Robles, who also happened to be the top scorer in the league, celebrating the shot he’d just gotten past him, putting them up one-nothing over the Rising. Anger coursed through him, not only at his backline for letting Robles get past them, but at himself for not stopping the shot. Goals were part of the game, but they never felt good. And the first one of the season? Well, that stung even more.

Parker Michaels walked over, holding out a hand to help Liam to his feet. The look on his face was sympathetic, knowing that they’d set him up poorly. It didn’t ease the pain though. He’d been caught wrong-footed and he knew it. That goal was one hundred percent on him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michaels said, slapping him on the arm. “We’re only a minute into the second half. Dash and Tiago will make up for it.”

Forty minutes later though, the Rising were still down the one goal and were missing chances left and right. Every pass seemed to be intercepted and every shot blocked by the defense. Carolina had parked the bus hardcore and were not backing down.

Finally, Elliot snatched the ball midfield, tapping it up to Dash. Dash maneuvered around a Carolina player, showing off his signature fancy footwork in the process, approaching the goal at rapid speed.

“Shoot it!” Liam shouted, sure that Dash couldn’t hear him but not letting that discourage him. They needed this equalizer, and the clock seemed to speed up with every second that passed, as they crept over the ninety-minute mark and into those last precious minutes of extra time. Looking over at the fourth official, Liam caught the number two lighting up on the sign, and his heart rate sped up.

C’mon, Dash, shoot it. Now. Make that goalie suffer the same swish I had to…

Dash dribbled around another defender, giving him the perfect window to shoot. But instead of doing just that, Dash seemed to hesitate, taking a few steps forward before drawing back his left leg and launching the ball toward the goal, sending it directly at the Carolina goalkeeper. Catching it easily with his hands before landing on it, it was an easy save for Carolina, and the groan of the home crowd was almost deafening. A few seconds later, the ref blew the final whistle, and Liam felt his whole body deflate.

Atlanta Rising had just landed their first loss.

“Cheer up, Padre,” Dash said, pulling his shirt over his head. Liam looked over at him, the two of them sitting in front of their lockers. How Dash could be so nonchalant about the loss was beyond Liam, but who was he to say anything. He knew his teammate felt just as shitty as he did on the inside but was simply better at hiding it. “These things happen.”

“It’s my job to make sure they don’t.”

“Eh, next time. Now though, you could always seek consolation in the arms of a certain trainer,” he suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Shit, Avery.

In the fog of the loss Liam had forgotten that he’d agreed to movie night with her. Since it had been an afternoon game, he’d figured they could probably bust out the first two Iron Man movies, but now he wasn’t sure what kind of company he would be. Would she even want to hang out with his grumpy ass this evening? Although, he had to admit that the idea of parking it on his couch with her lifted his spirits. Spending any kind of time with her seemed to be good for his soul in general. He never felt like he had to pretend when they were together, that he was able to just be. So maybe she would understand his sour mood and be just the thing to counteract it. He wished that said counteraction would come from her being curled up in his arms, but he was going to take what he could get.

“It’s not like that between us. We’re just friends.”

“So you keep telling me, Padre. But if you keep thinking like that, someone else is going to take notice. There has been a change about her, and she is looking muy linda.”

“Linda?” Liam asked, not quite sure what the woman’s name had to do with this.

“Cute,” Gunnar’s voice said from behind them. Liam turned around to see his coach walking toward them, the rest of the locker room empty. Looking down at his half-dressed self, he stood up, grabbing his clothes. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed while he was sitting there wallowing.

“Sí. Cute,” Dash said, waggling his eyebrows again.

A pang hit Liam listening to Dash call Avery cute. He knew that she would love to know that her plan was working. That Dash was already starting to take notice of her. That also meant that she was one step closer to getting what she wanted, which Liam hated thinking about. Because that thing wasn’t him. At the same time, Dash’s comment made Liam’s hackles go up. Avery was more than just cute. She was beautiful, inside and out—and Dash needed to know that. He needed to know that she was smart, funny, and one of the sweetest people on the planet. She deserved to have someone in her life who was going to treat her like the angel that she was.

“Finish getting dressed,” Gunnar said, looking Liam in the eye. The look on his face was the same serious, professional one that had been there when he’d spoken to the team after the game, letting them know he was less than thrilled about the outcome. His eyes, however, were softer, letting Liam know that he was here as his friend and mentor, not as his pissed-off coach. “Effie and Talia are waiting for us. Family dinner.”

“If you need someone to keep Talia company…” Dash offered.

“I don’t,” Gunnar remarked, not skipping a beat. “Stay away from my daughter, Dash.”

“But will she stay away from me?” he countered, throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading toward the locker room door.

“Pretty sure she will,” Liam commented, unable to resist the shot.

“And I thought we were friends, Padre!” Dash joked, winking at him, right as he turned the corner to go.