“What’s up, mate?” I respond, still a bit winded. I lift my shirt again and swipe at my brow.
They come to a stop in front of me and Fitz offers an outstretched hand to shake.
I haven’t seen them much outside of the pitch because I’ve been spending most of my time with Rory and Ais, but we all talk in the group chat daily. We’re supposed to have a guys’ night soon and I’m actually looking forward to it.
Shaking his hand, I turn to Michaels and offer him my hand. He grins, slapping his palm in mine then bumps his fist against my knuckles.
“What the hell are you still doing here this late?” Fitz asks, glancing down at the watch on his wrist then back to me. “It’s fucking eight o’clock. Practice ended like… hours ago.”
I shrug. “Needed to work on some footwork. Felt a bit slow at practice.”
Michael’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “Dude,thatwas slow?”
My lip curves into a cocky smirk at the underhanded compliment I’m not sure he even intended to give me. “For me it is. Anyway, what areyoutwo doing here this late?”
“Forgot my damn phone earlier. We’re getting ready to go to a party so we swung by so I could pick it up,” Fitz says.
I knew practice had ended a bit ago, but I was too focused on the drills to realize how late it had actually gotten. Reaching into my gym back slung over my shoulder, I pull out my phone and open it. There’s a handful of notifications.
A text from Aisling telling me she’s studying late tonight with a group at the library and not to worry.
And then one from Rory, asking if I want to come over and watch a horror movie.
Fucking brat.
I’m still nauseous thinking about that damn movie they made me watch. Well, it’s probably the workout I just put myself through but still.
I smirk, lifting my gaze back to the lads as I type a message, telling her I’m still at the pitch.
“Gotta head out, but I wanted to tell you about team dinner when I saw you walking up.”
“There’s a team dinner?” I ask.
Michaels nods. “Yeah, Coach hosts a dinner once in a while at his house for everyone on the team. Usually a barbecue, and Rory makes those famous fucking cookies.” He clutches his stomach, a dreamy look flitting to his eyes. “Coach told me to make sure you knew about it and were going to be there.”
It’s crazy to me that just a couple of months ago we were barely able to walk on to a pitch together and now I’m going to an infamous team dinner.
“You gotta come, man. You’re part of this team now and that means participating in team activities. Plus, I think it’ll be good for Coach to see us all vibing, off the pitch that is,” Fitz says, the two dimples in his cheek appearing with his grin.
“Yeah, and if you don’t come, then you miss the cookies,” Wren adds.
He has no clue that I could ask Rory at any time to make those damn cookies for me because no one knows what’s happening between us, so I stay silent.
My mouth twitches when Fitz rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re obsessed. And ridiculous.”
Michaels shrugs. “I’m a simple guy.” His toothless grin turns into a shit-eating smile as he waggles his eyebrows.
“Okay. I’ll be there. Text me the details? Time, place, all of that?” I say.
We exchange a quick goodbye, and when they leave out the double doors at the end of the hallway, I’m left feeling so much fucking relief.
I truthfully didn’t know if being on this team was going to work, if I was going to somehow be able to gain the trust of these guys. To even push my own bullshit pride aside and allow them to extend an olive branch.
Pride’s a funny thing. It can stop you from chasing your dreams and be the reason that you fail while sometimes being the only thing that keeps you in the game.
So I’m thankful that we’ve all come this far in such a short time. It’s more than I could’ve hoped for.
Focusing my attention back on my phone, I pull up Rory’s latest message, my brow knitting together as I read.
