"Rowen!" My dad's voice booms through the computer. "What's the craic, boyo?"I smile as he sits back and comes on the screen, his flaming red hair sticking up in all directions. No one has ever questioned my paternity. From our bright blue eyes to our lily white skin to the hair…the famous hair…there is no question who my father is. But our looks and our soccer skills are the only ways we're similar. Our personalities are very, very different. He's loud and boisterous. I'm quiet and some think shy. He's the life of the party. I'm the one who observes the party from the outskirts. When he was in his prime, he got lots of press and reveled in it. I'm happy to watch my teammates take the glory. So yeah, personality traits…those I got from my Mam.Despite all our differences, in a lot of ways my dad is my best friend. We used to tour with him when he was in the European league so he was always around. Once he retired and we moved to Detroit, he coached every single one of my teams until
I sigh and rub my hand down my face. When I look up again, my mom is getting up from the couch and walking away. She's always been good about giving us privacy to have our "man talks" as she calls them. Normally, I don't care if she knows what's going on. But in this case, I'm kind of glad she leaves."Dad, I know how you met Mam. But…did you have to deal with groupies hanging around when you played?""Aiy. Even after your mother showed up they were always around. Ready for a good shag and whatever else we could think of. Rowen," I look back up at him and see concern written all over his face. "Have you gotten yerself in trouble with a cleat chaser?""No! Ohmygod, Dadaí," I say, the residual brogue bleeding through my words like it always does when he says something that surprises or shocks me. "Yer such an ass. You've preached to me since I was born about how I'm not to give it up to just anyone. It's gonna take someone special to get in these pants."He chuckles. "I know ye aren't as
The door clicks and unlocks as I put my key fob up to the electronic pad. I push my way in and head straight for the assignments desk, toting my messenger bag and lunch kit with me.Dropping it on the floor next to the oversized cubicle, I greet my friend Caleb."Why is it so quiet in here? Where is everyone?" I ask as I grab a handful of papers from my company mail box and begin to sort through them.He doesn't look up from his computer. "It's been a strange day. Almost all the reporters had stuff set up for tonight so they're out shooting already. And there are a couple photogs downstairs waiting for something to happen, but the scanners have been really quiet."I snicker as I toss some random press releases in the recycle bin. "You know what that means for tonight....""Do. Not. Say it." He swivels his chair so he can face me. I open my mouth like I'm gonna say it. "Don't say it!""Breakingnews," I say as fast as I can with a laugh.He groans and puts his hands over his face. "I hat
I clear my throat. "There were a lot of whispers last night about a certain rookie being groomed to take over as a starting mid-fielder next season." I try not to change my expression as Rowen crosses my mind. I haven't stopped thinking about him since the other night. I've never had anyone turn away before when I've been naked. I was surprised by how nice it made me feel.Steve raises his eyebrows and turns towards me even more. "So who's getting cut?""Mack Shivel." I lean back and clasp my hands together, resting them on my stomach. Steve whistles his disbelief softly."I bet that's going over like a ton of bricks.""Mack hasn't figured it out yet.""Are you sure?""Oh yeah." I nod my head. "The Rookie was at the party. No way he could have gotten that drunk and not thrown down if he knew."Steve scratches his shoulder. "Yeah, that Mack Shivel is kind of a dick.""Hey!" I say in protest. "He's not that bad. He's always been nice to me."He rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Because you're young
I rap my knuckles on the door of the apartment twice and wait for it to be answered. I'm late. I know. But I needed extra time to ice down my legs after today's practice. Practices seem to be getting harder, not easier. I understand, though. We're in the middle of a season and playoffs are coming up. I have to be in tip-top shape in case one of our starters gets injured.Looking around, I make a note of the area. It's a pretty nice neighborhood. Inside the loop. Close to the stadium. It's actually not that far from where I live, which is information I'll keep to myself.While most of the newer teammates, like myself, have at least a thirty minute drive to work and have at least one roommate, I live alone in a garage apartment just ten minutes away. Having a dad with lots of connections comes in handy sometimes. Which is not something I will fess up to tonight.The door swings open to reveal Daniel, my team captain, grinning widely with a lit cigar in his mouth."Welcome to poker night,
Christian ignores him, instead looking over at me and pointing at Daniel with his thumb. "Our captain here decided to take Quincy to his mama's house for dinner. Have you ever had her fajitas?"I shake my head."They're to die for. I could go for some right now." He turns to Daniel. "Make sure to tell her I'm coming over next time we have a Sunday off." Daniel rolls his eyes.I furrow my brow. "What am I missing?"Daniel groans. "Can we not talk about this? I just need time to sort it all out."Christian ignores him and keeps talking to me. "Apparently it didn't go over so well when one of the brothers accused Quincy of dating him for his money. So our captain here hasn't spoken to his family in over a week. Which is why he's been a whiny little bitch lately. Haven't you noticed?""Enough," Daniels cuts in. "We're not talking about this anymore. I don't need my personal business floating around the locker room."Christian snorts. "It's not like the rookie makes a habit of spouting off
There's nothing like the smells in the stadium. The hot dogs and chalupas and nachos. The vinyl on a brand new jersey. The fresh cut grass. It's where I feel most comfortable. It reminds me of my childhood, my high school years, my college years. It gives me a feeling of nostalgia and joy. I love it.I wave off the person handing out noise makers when she tries to give me one. I love the concept, but I never use them. When I watch a soccer game, my eyes never leave the field. I become almost mesmerized. So there's no reason to waste the plastic.I make my way down the stadium steps, heading toward my normal section. The Mutiny players are all allowed to give out two tickets per game. Sometimes more if they have special permission. Except for family which sits in the team box, the tickets are right here. In section one hundred. Center field. Right on the field. Best seats in the house.Considering how many of the players I party with, I'm usually able to get my hands on a ticket. I've b
"As much as I can't believe I'm saying this, she's right. I know these guys pretty well. And I can count on one hand how many of them are actually faithful to their women." Geni raises an eyebrow and makes a "hmph" sound. "I'm curious how you know that. Is it because you are the one they cheat with?"I narrow my eyes at Geni. I'm really sick of the way she talks to me and I've finally had enough of her constant belittling. "Why are you so worried about my sex life, huh? Are you so hard up yourself that you have to worry about mine all the time?""I know all about you, Tiffany," she says with a sneer. "I've seen all the pictures. And it's interesting how many times you're in the background of candid pictures of the team…coming out of a hotel room. And yet, you're never, ever with the same player."I want to speak up. She doesn't understand. Part of this is my job. The other part likes hanging out with my friends. I'm not attached to any of them."The thing is," she continues, "the dyna