Asher Donovan, a star striker with a record-breaking transfer, fails in the last seconds of the Premier League final, costing his new team the championship. The crowd calls him a traitor, and his rivalry with captain Vincent makes tensions worse. With the coach furious and the team divided, Asher must face his past mistakes—and the storm that’s coming next.
He held out his hand, which she grabbed with far too much enthusiasm. “Carina. It’s so nice to officially meet you. I’m a huge fan.” Asher upped the wattage of his smile. “Thanks. Perhaps you can help convince Scarlett I’m not the devil then?” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t think…
Neither of them had cross-trained with dance before, so I took it easy on them the first day. Even so, by the time our session ended, everyone was exhausted and dripping with sweat. “I take back everything I said about football being more strenuous than ballet.” Vincent guzzled a bottle of water. His face gleamed…
When I arrived at RAB, I felt a pinch of satisfaction at the absence of Vincent’s Lamborghini. He didn’t drive decoy cars, so I knew he wasn’t here yet. I parked close to the entrance, my thoughts split between the dreaded cross-training session and the girl I’d bumped into last week. I didn’t know why…
I was being pushier than normal, but I would’ve backed off if I’d picked up on any signs of discomfort from her. However, the gleam of laughter in her eyes told me she wasn’t as annoyed as she pretended to be… and she hadn’t pulled her hand away yet. We must’ve come to the same…
I’d invited them out hoping for sympathy and distraction, but I should’ve known better. Adil thought my situation was hilarious, and Noah was stoic as a rock. Wankers. “I’m going to order us another round,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” Adil had moved on to needling Noah about his nonexistent love life, and Noah…
I obliged, trying to tame my rampage of nerves and failing miserably. “We’re both busy, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Lavinia was never one for beating around the bush. “We’ve partnered with the Blackcastle football club on a special training program this summer. I want you to run point on it.” My mouth parted.…
Frank Armstrong was a legend in the football world. As a player, he was famous for his string of hat tricks in the nineties; as a manager, he was famous for his innovative approach to leadership and his hair-trigger temper, the latter of which was on full display as he laid into us. “Are those…
I used to be one of those students, and as much as I loved teaching, I wished I could rewind time so I was on the other side of these lessons. Things had been so different then, and?- Stop it. No more self-pity, remember? I shook my head and refocused on the task at hand.…
This story takes place in London, so it uses the British term “football” instead of soccer. Unless otherwise stated, football as it’s used here always refers to soccer, not American football. Please also note that certain details about the Premier League schedule have been modified for story purposes, and the word for posterior will remain…