Big Dick Energy - Cindi Madsen Page 0,39

gal. Have been for two generations.”

As hard as I was trying to keep up my defenses, that comment sent them crumbling. George Elliston had played for LA Galaxy and his son James currently played defense for the Pythons. She knew the game and its players a lot better than I realized.

Shit, that proved her point more than I’d like. I’d assumed that as a woman, her main interest in the sport was that connection to her father she spoke of the other night. Or that she enjoyed ogling the athletes and the publicity involved in designing the new complex—the latter was something I craved, too.

Static filled my insides, that crunchy white noise that meant I should force myself to apologize, something I was about as good at as losing.

Penelope popped the ball free of Chase’s grip and kicked it to the other Python’s player, following after the ball as she did so. “Dylan, mind schooling me on some soccer drills? I’m rusty, so just do me a favor and take it easy on me. Occasionally I need to be reminded I’m not in high school anymore.”

“And that you’ve got an ankle injury that’s barely starting to heal,” I added. There. Did that count as an apology?

They say to never meet your heroes, and the disappointed expression on Chase’s face as he realized he was stuck with me proved why. Not that I could blame him, considering I’d also watched her walk the handful of yards toward the goal with Dylan.

At least she and I would share a ride back to the office, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t be as bubbly and as chatty as she’d been this morning. Worse, I had no one to blame but myself. The woman pushed my buttons like it was her specialty.

I thought spending the month in San Diego would be a casual break from the norm. Now I was in a competition that kept pushing me farther from the one person I longed to get closer to. Backing down or bowing out wasn’t a possibility that’d been programmed into my DNA, the mere idea causing my insides to revolt.

Surely there was a way to keep my ego in check, prove to BJB Architecture Firm they’d hired the right guy for the job, and find my way back into Penelope’s good graces.

The ball thwacked me in my thigh, hard enough I’d likely have a bruise of my own. Great for knocking the inner turmoil out of my brain. Not as great for endearing me to the player I’d admired for years.

“Would you rather start with dribbling or kicking drills?”

“Oh, I’m past beginner drills. I played all my life, including for my high school team.”

Chase shrugged a shoulder. “That’s beginner to me, but we can go for something more challenging.”

What the fuck? I gritted my teeth, a caustic burning sensation churning through my gut. I hadn’t been saying I played anywhere his level, merely that I was up for more of a challenge. I kicked the ball at him, grinning that he barely jumped in time to miss the ball from whacking him in the shins.

“Looks like you do have a little firepower.”

Little my ass.

Chase dribbled the ball toward me, and my heart kicked up a notch as I prepared to defend. “Does Penny have a boyfriend?”

Was this seriously happening? I ducked my shoulder into him, fighting to gain access to the black and white ball. “She’s big on professional boundaries, so we don’t discuss her dating life.”

“She’s not like other women,” he said, and I instinctively knew Penelope would haaate that. Anyway, she would it if I said it to her. Perhaps Chase Blakely would get a pass. “I’m getting bored of the fangirls. It’s like the games where you completely outmatch your opponent, you know?”

I’m sure he thought that was a clever slam. I retributed by stealing the ball the instant he glanced over my shoulder in Penelope’s direction. Then I was running toward the goal, kicking and wishing for my cleats.

Chase quickly caught up, and we shoved at each other as we raced toward the goal, both of us breathing hard. “Looks like I struck a nerve,” he said, giving me a shove, and my damn soles slipped in the grass.

“Nah. I’m just here to check out the stadium.” And ask what the players wanted in their new complex, but I suddenly didn’t give a shit what Chase Blakely wanted. I faked right and then dodged left, a move I used