Page 27 of Penalty Kick

The roar of Liam’s laughter ripped through the air, the deep rumble an unmistakable sound. One that Dash normally enjoyed. It was a telltale sign of a good time with good friends. Tonight would be exactly that, if only he wasn’t so deflated.

Taking a long swig of his drink, Dash sat back on the pool lounger, sucking in the hot summer night air. Despite the beautiful night, they had the pool to themselves, save one other couple tucked away in the far corner. Which was fine by Dash. He was in a weird mood and didn’t feel like trying to hide it. At least not from anyone other than the guys.

Elation had ripped through him when Gunnar and Cowboy had told him that he was traveling with the team to Charlotte. Being left behind in Atlanta last week had felt like a knife to the heart. He understood why. Had he been in their shoes, and a player on his team had done what he did in Vegas, Dash had no doubt he would have suspended said player, just like Gunnar and Cowboy had. Even if he didn’t remember any of it. That didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Turns out, getting to travel, but not dress or play, hurt even more.

Sitting on the sidelines, watching as his teammates held Charlotte to a one-nothing score, Dash felt like his heart was being ripped out with each pass of the ball. He’d wanted to be out on that pitch so badly, donning the team’s signature electric-blue and black kit. Instead, he was still wearing the custom suit each player had been given at the start of the season. It was what they wore to and from games—home and away—not during. Unless you were being punished apparently.

“Feels like shit sitting here in that suit watching them play, doesn’t it?” Cowboy asked from the seat to his right as the game was winding down.

Dash nodded. There were so many things he wanted to say—another apology, defending that he didn’t remember, asking when he would get to play again—but he kept it all to himself. None of that mattered in this moment. What mattered was him accepting the consequences of his actions and doing what needed to be done to earn his spot back on this team.

“I know just how you feel.”

“Do you?”

“There was this bar in my college town that did four-for-ones on Thursday nights—”

“Four-for-ones?” Dash interrupted, confused by the term. It had to be an American thing, because Cowboy laughed at the confusion Dash knew was all over his face.

“Four drinks for the price of one. They were smaller, and watered down, but still, you could get drunk for cheap,” Cowboy explained. Dash took a moment to wrap his brain around the concept, stopping himself before he commented about that sounding like a good time. “We were in the playoffs for the division title and had the semifinals Saturday morning. Well, thinking I was a badass, I still went out Thursday night and got totally wasted. Showed up the next morning to get on the bus to travel to the game and was still hungover. My coach was not amused. He didn’t kick me off the bus, although I’m pretty sure he thought about it. He let me travel with them, and then told me I didn’t get to suit up for the game. That I could sit on the bench and watch it.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch. And Dash, I won’t lie, it fucking sucked. Sitting there, watching my teammates battle in what was the biggest game we’d ever played in at that point…well, it was kick in the nuts. I wanted to be on that pitch so bad I could taste it.”

Hanging his head, Dash closed his eyes, his heart aching. That was exactly what he’d been feeling for the last two hours. That, and wanting to puke since he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

Neither of them said anything, watching as the two teams congratulated each other on a good game. The buzz of the crowd around them started to settle as players headed for the locker room. Dash knew the atmosphere in there would be wild, every one of his teammates amped up from the major win. Part of him wanted to be in there with them, while part of him knew it would hurt too much. He wasn’t a part of this win.

“Dash, you are a great player. There is absolutely no doubt about that. On the pitch, you can be a magician. But there is more to playing professional football than just being good with the ball. You have to be just as great off the pitch as you are on. Fans love Messi—yes, because he’s a damn good player, one of the greats—but also because he’s a decent guy. I believe that you have it in you to be both. That you are both. You just haven’t done a great job at showing us.”

Cowboy's words cut deep. They were exactly what his mother would say to him—what she had been saying to him. He wanted to be that man. For himself. For his family. For the Rising.

For Talia…

“Not that I’m complaining,” Liam said, crashing into the lounger next to Dash, pulling him back into the moment. Making a show of swinging those tree trunks he called legs onto the chair, Liam settled into his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles. Liam turned to him, shit-eating grin on his face, and winked as he handed Dash a beer. “But you didn’t even blink when I suggested dinner and drinks at the pool. I figured you’d have the name of some club or trendy restaurant on the tip of your tongue. What gives?”

Dash shrugged. He didn’t even know how to put into words what he was feeling—much less express them out loud. Sharing his feelings was not something he’d ever been good at. He’d learned quickly as a child that it was best to keep those kinds of things to yourself. Although lately, he was starting to think that was just one more thing he’d gotten “wrong” in his life.

For as long as he could remember, there had been a picture in his mind of what life was supposed to look like. How he was supposed to act when he made it big as a football player. Somehow, the life he was living looked nothing like that, at least from where he was sitting, and the more he thought about it, the less he was sure he even wanted that life. So far all it had brought was trouble.

“Ever have a moment where you discover that you do not recognize your own life? Wonder how you got here?”

“Oh, so we’re thinking deep thoughts tonight. Didn’t realize you did that.”

“I am serious, Padre. When you look at your life, is it how you thought it would be?”

“Dude, there is nothing about my life that turned out the way I thought it would,” Liam answered. His normal stoic features remained, his gaze locked on something far away, but Dash could feel the warm sentiment radiating off his buddy. Liam seemed to understand exactly what Dash was thinking. “Absolutely nothing. Hell, a year ago had you told me that I would be sitting in the States, playing for Gunnar and for a new team, and that the love of my life was a cute redhead from America, I would have called you insane. I would have told you there was no way I could ever play for anyone but Dundalk, and that I was going to marry Orla.”

Dash huffed out a small laugh, a new twinge of guilt twisting inside him. He’d thought he’d been doing his buddy a favor a few months back, trying to push him to finally make a move on Avery. It was obvious to anyone who watched the two of them that they were perfect for each other, both too shy to do anything about it. Had he realized that part of the reason Liam had followed Gunnar to the Rising from his hometown in Ireland was that his longtime girlfriend had left him for his older brother, Dash would have never thought to try pushing him into action via kissing Avery. Well, almost kissing her. The sweet PT had stopped him, instead running after the Irish Viking. The whole thing had resulted in the one and only disagreement—meeting of Liam’s fist with Dash’s face- between them since they’d roomed together at training camp. Then again, that hit had also resulted in that seriously epic kiss with Talia at the auction. So maybe it had worked out for both of them.

“But, I wouldn’t change a single thing,” Liam continued. “It might not be what I pictured, but it’s without a doubt better. Why do you ask?”

“Just thinking.”

Liam nodded, taking another sip of his beer. Dash was thankful he didn’t press the issue, still not quite sure where his thoughts were headed.