Page 68 of Made Better Together

When we’re celebrating in a big group hug, I see a familiar face there, in the stands. Megan Garcia, who’s been part of so many of the national training camps with me, since we’re the same age. Unlike me, she opted out of college, going straight to the pros.

“Meg! What are you doing here?” I say as I walk over.

She comes to the bottom of the stands. “Hey, looking good out there. Same old Larsson.”

“Ha. If you’d been in the game, it would’ve been tighter.” An elite defender, she’s stopped me several times in the camps.

“Can’t wait to have you in the pros, and we’ll test that out.” She winks. “You’re still coming to the NWSL next season, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

I’ve been careful about letting anyone outside of my close circle know about the dynamics with medical school versus soccer. Soccer insiders already think it’s weird I’m completing all four years of college when I could go pro. I’ve let the general assumption that my parents are making me stay in school linger without correction.

Because if the larger soccer world knew I’d thought about going to medical school instead of continuing to play, it could be a problem. Even be used against me to advance a different striker to the national squad, one “more committed” to the sport.

My secret has stayed contained. Still, Megan’s words are a reminder—I need to decide my actual plan soon. There’s only twelve weeks left before NWSL teams will be allowed to talk to me.

“Awesome. We’re here for a matinee game against Orlando tomorrow.” She gestures to three other women in the stands, who I now recognize—more of her pro teammates. “I said we needed to see you play.”

I wave to her crew. “Oh cool, thank you.”

“We’ll all be waiting for you to join the fun next year.”

“Absolutely.”

Except, there is nothing absolute on this front, yet.

19

CONNOR

Since our chat, Grace’s been giving me shit about my impersonal emails to Eden. “Just because you can’t pursue anything doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be friendly,” she said a couple of days ago. “Clients want to feel that connection to you when they’re handing their lives over to you.”

Little does she know how hard it’s been to maintain my distance. The bland words have served as essential armor when all I fucking want to do is drive to Anderson House to see her.

I need the protection. Otherwise I might do something…stupid.

Like when I’m alone in the shower and imagine pulling on a ponytail of honey-colored hair while a certain soft, dark pink mouth circles my dick.

Shit, too late.

So yeah, I’m avoiding being vulnerable. As best I can, anyway. I will see her today—when we all watch the Waves game together.

It’ll be like a teaser, a small sip. An edging, again.

I can’t find the will to retract my plan to attend, and I already told Milo I wouldn’t go to the brunch. I’ll allow myself these three hours with her. We’ll be surrounded by family and friends, so nothing can happen anyway.

When I walk into the suite, I immediately spot Grace and Rawley’s girlfriend, Avery—but not Eden or her family yet.

“Connor, come sit by me,” Avery instructs as I approach them. She and I have gotten to know each other well with me staying with Rawley, and we appreciate each other’s snarky side.

“Actually,” Grace says to her, “Connor has someone else coming who he may want to sit with.”

Jesus. Not helpful. She must believe I’m going to play by the company rules, or she wouldn’t have let that slip.

“Grace, remind me never to tell you another secret.”

She looks sheepish. “Sorry.”