Page 84 of Set Play

Henri gives us a smile before nodding and moving toward his truck.

Crois en l'espoir.

Maybe everything will work out after all.

Chapter 48

Mateo

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the game?” I ask Élise, scanning for any sign that I need to skip practice and stay with her.

She huffs and pushes me away lightly, “For the tenth time, yes. Now, go to practice. You already missed yesterday because of me. Let’s not add a second day, okay? Ryan probably hates me as is.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Chispita. Coach was super understanding once I explained.” I take a step away from her, showing just enough cooperation to get her to lower her arms so I can swoop in to steal another kiss. “You’ll be okay this evening on your own?”

“I won’t be on my own, but yes. Like I said, Niamh invited the girls over. I’m going to nap in the meantime.”

That makes me laugh. “Okay, then. I’ll see you later, Chispita. Text me if you need anything. You know I’ll drop everything if needed.”

“Don’t forget to thank Lukas again for my flowers. They really are lovely.”

“I swear, you miss one practice and suddenly they forgot how to function,” Cillian mutters from his spot on the sideline beside me.

As the captain and alternate captain, Coach asked us to oversee the ongoing drills because he “deserved a break after putting up with the idiots.”

“Was it really that bad? I kind of thought Coach was exaggerating so he could spend some quality time with Mrs. Coach since she brought him lunch.” I tip my head in the direction that Coach and his wife disappeared.

Cillian snorts but I cut off any response, seeing several issues on my half of the field. “Gray, swap goalies. I want to see what Davis can do. Plus, Elliott needs to go see Sarge. He’s favoring that knee again,” I say before turning to the offense. Raising my voice, I call out, “Sterling, quit with the no touch passes unless you know your control is on point. Take the damn time to control the ball. Otherwise, you might as well just pass to the other team. Nguyen, you need to look up when you’re dribbling, kid. Alvarez, Reyes, it’s called a passing triangle. You need three points. Johansen, jump in with them. Whitlock and Nguyen! Form a triangle with Hayes. That leaves Sterling, Brooks, and Rhodes in the third. Let’s see some clean passes before defense joins.”

I watch them for a minute before turning to Cillian who is finishing up with Elliott. “He wasn’t thrilled that you realized he was hurting but knows he needs to take care of himself.”

Nodding, we turn back to the field where Cillian has the defense doing a three-on-three drill with the groups switching between defending and attacking the goal. “I figure give them a bit more time with this and then move to an eight-on-eight scrimmage. What do you think?”

“Good idea. Team one will have Nguyen, Luk, Sterling, Brooks and Whitlock from the offense. Team two will have Hayes, Rhodes, Alvarez, Johansen, and me on offense. Split the defense.”

Cillian thinks on it for a few minutes before cracking a smile. “Alright. Team one will have Torres, Wallace, and me. Team two gets Bennett, Kincaid, and Miller.”

My mind races through both lineups, making sure neither has an advantage. We give them another few minutes of split practice, then signal for the guys to get a drink. Then as Cillian calls out the teams, I give my team bibs to differentiate them.

The scrimmage is brutal.

I thank the stars every game that Cillian is on my team, but I really appreciate it at times like this. The dude is a beast. It doesn’t matter what we do, we can’t get past him.

“I thought the Great Wall was Chinese, not Irish.” I pant out after we’ve ended practice. “You know you’re not supposed to practice at one hundred percent the day before a game, right?”

“Who said that was a hundred? Maybe you’re just not as good as you think.”

My mouth pops open in mock indignation, breaking his attempt at being serious. Slapping his back, I head to the locker room. “Come on, let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Élise

A thundering knock echoes through the townhouse, jarring me from what I meant to be a short nap. Grabbing my phone, I see it’s seven thirty and I have a ton of missed texts. The newest one is two minutes old. Shit!

Today 5:45PM

Gracie:

Turns out I can make it!