Page 13 of The Devoted Dastard

“Um … sure?” Sharma said, looking over at me with a furrowed brow. We were reviewing the last game, going over what worked, what didn’t, and were just about to wrap up. But something about Brooker’s eagerness made me hesitant. Maybe if I thought it hard enough, Sharma would say we needed a little longer. I mean, we’d be entering the tournament soon, there must be something we needed to review before elimination games.

When it was clear Coach wasn’t telepathic, I scratched the back of my head and said, “Actually, I’d like to review our defensive drills for this week.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Coach mentioned some new drills we’d try this week and I’d like to practice them so I can help introduce them to the rest of the team. Coach Sharma nodded, understanding what I wanted.

Unfortunately, he decided on a different solution.

“I’ll send you the video for reference. We won’t start on it until tomorrow anyway.” He patted me on the shoulder and nudged me in Brooker’s direction. Immediately, my teammate looped his arm around mine and pulled me into the main locker room area.

“What’re you doing?”

“We all know you’ve got hot goss, so obviously we’re all waiting around for you to spill the beans before practice.” As we rounded into the room, I realized he was right. Everyone was milling around their cubbies, fiddling with their cleats, rummaging in their bags, just generally wasting time. Even Kean was waiting around, and he was normally the first one out on the field.

“Really? All of you?” They responded with some grumbles and Sosa ran up to wrap an arm around my neck.

“Yeah! Who’d you leave with?” Sosa asked. As my face heated, Sosa’s weight was pulled off me as Carter walked by, grabbing the other man by the neck of his shirt.

“Too far, man.”

“But—” Sosa started to complain, but Fuller, of all people, shook his head.

“That’s not how we practiced this.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sosa lifted his hands. “I got impatient.”

“So?” Brooker prompted, dragging me over to the bench where a spot had been left open for us. “Who was she? Did you actually just chat someone up at the bar or are y’all dating and you had her meet you there once you were sick of us?”

“That makes the most sense,” Kean grumbled, almost like he had this argument with Brooker already.

I chewed on my lip, debating if I should tell them or not. The team had bonded a lot by talking about Kean’s new relationship and I wanted to be a part of that.

Plus, as far as scandalous as my one-night stand was, it was just one night. They wouldn’t be able to use this conversation to embarrass me in front of her later.

“I met her there. I went to … refill my drink.”

“Get a break from us,” Brooker cut in.

“And we got to chatting, she … went home with me, we had a nice night, the end. I’m sorry to say there isn’t much to gossip about.” I shrugged, even though my shoulders felt heavy thinking about Leah. And it was with that heaviness, I absently added, “She thought we were in an intramural league.”

“Us?” Alvarez gasped.

“You liked that she belittled us, didn’t you?” Brooker asked with a laugh before nudging me.

“Oh, he definitely does. He found it charming, I bet,” Ricci said. Everyone decided to add their two cents about how I got off on not being recognized or liked not being "the captain" for once and on and on. I’d have argued with them, but … they were kind of right. I enjoyed that Leah had no clue what sport I played, the kind of person I was, my responsibilities. It was refreshing.

“Well, I hope you’ve gotten all your jokes out.” I clapped my knees and pushed to standing. “Because I won’t see her again and it’s time to hit the field.”

“Wait, what?” several of the guys shouted as I headed to the door.

“What do you mean you’re not gonna see her again?” Ricci asked. “You obviously have chemistry.”

“I never would’ve thought you’d have a one-night stand. That’s Brooker’s thing,” Gallagher said.

“And she was really cute,” Fuller added. “She made you laugh, like genuinely laugh. You don’t let a girl like that go.”

“We’ll help you fix this. Did you get her number? Or her name at least? Kean, do you think Kodi can do some social media stalking to find this girl?” Sosa asked, turning to look back at our goalie while still crowding me.

“She can do anything,” Kean grumbled with absolute faith in his partner.