“About the antilock braking system?””No.” I released a tiny sigh of exasperation alongside my smile. “You said you loved me.”
He slid his palm down to the nape of my neck. Its heat burned deliciously into my skin. “I said I love you more than anything else in the universe, including Pluto,” he corrected teasingly. “Don’t dilute the poetry of my words.”
“I did that on purpose. I didn’t want to sound repetitive because what I really want to say is that I love you too.” My voice softened. “More than anything else in the universe, including Pluto.”
I’d held back on telling him for so long that releasing the words into the world was its own kind of liberation.
Asher’s breath stuttered for half a beat. He hadn’t pressured me to return the sentiment earlier, nor did he seem to expect it, and that only made me love him more.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me.
“I missed you,” I whispered. My tears had dried, but the emotion remained, swelling and rising behind my ribcage. “So much.”
As upset as I’d been, I’d missed him so fiercely during every second of our separation that he’d haunted my dreams more nights than I cared to admit.
Asher brushed his thumb over my cheek, his touch unbearably tender. “I missed you too, darling.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Take the Jag back from Vincent. He’ll be insufferable with it.”
As much as I appreciated Asher’s commitment to change, I wasn’t going to make him give up his favorite car. It suited him; the saloon didn’t.
Asher laughed, his eyes glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. “Done.”
Then he lowered his head and covered his mouth with mine, and everything-the cars, the people, the catcalls from his teammates-melted away again.
ASHER
“Donovan!” Coach barked. “Get your ass in here.” He disappeared back inside his office.
I ignored the team’s heckling and finished pulling my shirt over my head. “That’s getting old,” I said, giving Elliott a light shove as I walked toward Coach’s office. “Find a new schtick.”
“We’ll find a new schtick when you stop getting in trouble.” Elliot snickered. “How many times have you been called into Coach’s office this season? And it’s only November.”
“New betting pool!” Adil shouted. “Fifty quid says Donovan gets called in there at least two more times before the holidays.”
I shook my head as the rest of the team rushed to place their bets.
Idiots.
However, I couldn’t summon true annoyance toward them. It’d been two weeks since Scarlett and I got back together, and I hadn’t been able to stop grinning since. I owed the team for their help (even if their “help” simply involved taking my cars off my hands and driving them to RAB), so I let their good-natured taunts slide.
I entered Coach’s office for what felt like the umpteenth time that season and waited for him to speak.
My injuries were fully healed and I was training with the rest of the team on the pitch again, but I was still benched. Unfortunately, it was harder to convince Coach I’d changed than it was Scarlett.
I doubted telling him I loved him and snogging him in front of the team would help.
Coach’s eyes slitted like he could hear my thoughts and he was not happy about them. “So,” he said. “I heard you got back together with your girlfriend.”
My mouth fell open before I snapped it shut again. Of all the topics I thought he’d want to discuss, my love life wasn’t one of them.
Not to mention…how the hell did he know about me and Scarlett?
“My daughter is friends with your girlfriend,” Coach said, answering my unspoken question. “She talks. So do they.” His jerked his chin toward the door, his face crumpled with a scowl. “Can’t tell whether I’m running a team of professional athletes or an episode of bloody
Gossip Girl at times.”
Add Coach knowing what
Gossip Girl was to the second shocker of the day.
“Yes, Scarlett and I are back together, sir,” I said, unsure where this was leading.
“Does she know what an idiot she’s dating?”
“Yes, sir, and she loves me anyway.”
Coach’s mouth twitched in the closest approximation of a smile I’d seen from him since his hat trick in 1995. When he noticed my answering smile, his expression morphed back into a scowl. “I also heard you gave away your fancy car collection.”
“Most of it, sir. Except for one.” I’d retrieved the Jaguar from a protesting Vincent the day after Scarlett and I made up. He pelted me with all sorts of English and French swear words, but he eventually gave up the keys with an angry grumble.
I was helping Scarlett plan a big birthday party for him next month, so hopefully that made up for it.
“You sad about it?” Coach asked.
I shook my head. “The cars were material things. I loved them, but I don’t need them anymore.”
I was working through my lingering guilt over Teddy’s death with Myles, the club’s psychologist. However, just knowing the reason behind why I acted the way I did helped me curb my worst impulses.
My emotions still got the better of me sometimes, but I didn’t vent them by punching someone or speeding in a supercar.
It was progress.
Coach grunted in reluctant approval. “You’ve worked hard in training, even while you were injured.” He examined me, his eyes shrewd. “What are your thoughts on Saturday’s match?”
I grimaced. Over the weekend, Blackcastle lost its second consecutive match. It’d been a home match, which stung even more.
“We were strong in the first half, but the attack line lagged in the second half,” I said honestly. “We weren’t as aggressive as we should’ve been, and our hesitation cost us at least one goal.”
Coach grunted again. “You’ve been a headache for me since you joined the team, Donovan, and I’ve seen your face in my office more times than I care to count. If I really wanted to teach you a lesson, I’d keep you benched through the holidays and into the new year. I don’t give a damn what the public says.”
I swallowed, my blood going cold at his words. “I understand.”
“However.” He leaned forward and tented his hands beneath his chin. “You and DuBois are finally acting like adults toward each other. You’ve demonstrated a concrete willingness to listen and change and, while he obviously can’t share details, Myles says you’re making good progress in your sessions. So I am inclined to think that maybe you’ve already learned your lesson.”
My heart sped up, but I maintained a neutral expression while I waited for him to finish. I didn’t want to jinx anything.
“I’m putting you back in for next week’s match. Consider it a trial. We’ll see where we go from there.” Coach scowled. “However, if you so much as get a speeding ticket under my watch, you’re going straight back to the bench. Am I clear?”
Overwhelming relief rushed into every cell of my body.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.