Page 37 of Penalty Kick

The bell over the door chimed, and a group of teenage boys piled into the lobby. Dash stepped in closer to her, moving out of their way. The volume level doubled as each one tried to talk over the others.

“They are lucky to have you,” Dash told her.

“You too,” she returned.

“Out of the way!” one of the teenage boys shouted.

Talia turned toward the ruckus, just in time to see the tallest of the group shove Tanner. Hard. Tanner stumbled out of the way, catching himself on the counter.

“I said move!” he shouted again. “Are you stupid?”

“Just look at him, dude,” one of the others said. “You can tell, he’s dumber than a box of rocks.”

Talia’s heart sank. Was she seriously witnessing this? She couldn’t believe anyone would ever be so cruel to another person. She wanted to scream at these kids, put them in their place. But she couldn’t. Her throat was thick with emotions, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. The words just wouldn’t come.

Tanner hung his head, his shoulders hunched in defeat. He was too sweet of a kid to ever fight back. Slinking back toward her and Dash, he didn’t even look up at them. Wrapping her arms around Tanner, she held him tight, all of her protective instincts surfacing.

“That’s right, go cry to mommy, numb—”

“Stop!” Dash roared.

The deep timbre combined with the sheer volume of his outcry startled everyone, including the young woman behind the counter who had been oblivious to everything until a second ago. Dash stalked forward, closing in on the boys, a scowl on his face. No, it wasn’t a scowl. It was something much worse. Anger poured off him in waves, making Talia’s heart race. She had no idea Dash could get mad, since he was so laid-back.

“Do not dare say that ever again,” Dash growled, finger pointed at the boy who shoved Tanner. “Or anything like it. It is unacceptable to treat someone that way. I do not care who you think you are, or who you are talking to. You do not act like that. Ever. It is called respect; fucking learn some.”

The boys nodded, eyes wide in fear. Dash’s accent made him sound terrifying as he grunted at them more about learning manners. Talia’s heart soared as she watched, arms still holding Tanner tightly, new tears pricking at her eyes. These were not ones of sadness or anger though. They were something else. Pride, maybe? Whatever it was, she had never felt it more than in this moment. Watching Dash defend Tanner like this, to teach these kids that you needed to treat people with respect, well, that was enough to make her want to jump him right there.

“Now, he was here first. You will wait your turn,” Dash said. Turning to Tanner, he held out his hand, signaling for Tanner to join him. “Tanner, do you know what you want?”

Tanner nodded. Talia could see he was still a little confused about it all—she couldn't blame him there. It was a lot to take in.

“Okay then. Show the nice lady behind the counter. She will help you. These gentlemen will be paying. I will be right back there with Talia.”

A second later, Dash was by her side, his hands encasing her again. The warmth of it spread through her, filling her down to the tips of her toes. She was so full of emotion she was sure she was going to burst. It was such a simple thing but so monumental at the same time. Dash didn’t even stop to think—he'd rushed to Tanner’s defense so fast he’d left heads spinning. He didn’t seem to care who was around or if anyone knew who he was. In that moment the only important thing had been defending Tanner. Gone was that good-time guy she thought he was. In his place was a man who put others first. Who hadn’t hesitated to step in and do the right thing.

There was so much she wanted to say. Words continued to fail her though. They would never be enough to express everything she was feeling. Which left her with just one thing left to do.

Throwing her arms around his neck, Talia yanked Dash toward her, their bodies crashing together. She wasted no time in pressing her lips to his, planting a kiss on him that she hoped conveyed everything she was feeling.

And more.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Listening to the train horn sound, signaling the end of the game and an Atlanta Rising win, Dash couldn’t help but think this sitting on the sidelines thing was getting old. Really, really old.

Dash adjusted his tie, for what must have been the hundredth time since he put it on when the team changed before the game. The damn thing really did feel like it was choking him. Or maybe that was just him choking on his own feelings. He’d forced himself to stop thinking about that night in Vegas. If he didn’t think about it, the guilt from embarrassing the team and not remembering his actions didn’t gnaw at him. There was no doubt that he regretted his actions—Gunnar and Cowboy knew that. They also knew he was committed to making it right. He just wished he knew how long that was going to take.

His teammates shuffled past him, giving him high fives and fist bumps as they headed to the locker room. For a brief moment he thought about joining them, but then thought better of it. Being a part of a celebration when all you did was sit and watch it unfold would be weird. Not to mention, the Unified game would start shortly, and he should probably remain in his suit for that.

“Dash,” Gunnar called out.

Dash whipped his head around, his heart starting to race as the coach sauntered toward him. Gunnar’s normal, stony features didn’t give away much, making it hard to know how to react. Even after a win the man managed to keep his excitement hidden until they were in the locker room. Not to say he never got animated during a game—he did, plenty. Those moments were usually just reserved for commentary that ended in phrases like “then I’m the Queen’s corgi.”

“With me,” Gunnar continued, nodding his head toward the locker room.

Mierda…

Doing as he was told, Dash followed Gunnar, dodging the stadium staff making their way through the tunnel to set up for the Unified game. His mind was running wild with what Gunnar could possibly need to talk to him about right now. There was a list as long as his arm of things he could think of, but none of them seemed that pressing. Unless…