Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,21

way to the locker rooms, and she followed close behind. I waited until her hand was on the locker-room door then cleared my throat.

She hung her head. “What? What now? What could you possibly do to me at this point that would exhaust me any more?”

Her eyes widened a bit while I tried to think about anything but the fact that we were alone.

And she was beautiful.

Sweaty and beautiful.

More beautiful than when she was dressed up in a tight short dress.

More beautiful than any woman that sweaty had a right to be.

Shit.

I forced a cruel smile I wasn’t feeling. I forced myself to replace the lust with cruelty, and I hated myself for it. “You’re jogging home.”

“That’s at least five miles!” she bellowed.

“Six and a half, actually.” I shrugged. “I’ll grab your bag, though.”

“No!” She held up her hands as every inch of color fell from her face, even her lips turned a grayish white. “No, um, I’ll just leave it here and pick it up later.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll just—”

“No!” She shoved against my chest this time.

I wasn’t a violent man, or even really aggressive, but the fact that she just shoved me like I was about to attack her pissed me off. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Was it my imagination or was she shaking? “You’re the one who wants to go into the girls’ locker room alone and grab my . . . bag.” It’s like as she said it she realized how crazy she sounded, or maybe she was just embarrassed. “Never mind, I’ll see you at home.”

She shoved away from me and ran down the hall fast enough for me to stare after her in utter confusion.

I gave my head a shake and pushed the locker-room door open and went in search of her bag.

It was black.

Shocker.

I walked over to grab it and tripped over a cleat that I didn’t see, sending the bag sailing to the floor. A few things spilled out.

Advil.

A water bottle.

And lastly, a prescription pill bottle with the label rubbed off.

And suddenly everything made sense.

Her anger.

Her irritation.

The way she was easily set off by anything or anyone.

Disappointment hit me so hard I had to sit. I shoved everything back into her bag as quickly as I could, then grabbed my cell from my pocket and dialed one of my contracted doctors on staff.

She answered immediately.

“Yeah, it’s Matt,” I sighed. “I’m going to need you to come in tomorrow morning, first thing. I need a full physical and drug test. Yeah, new client. I think she might be doping.”

Chapter Ten

PARKER

I woke up feeling like a million pounds of trash had been stuffed into a semi and frozen with water and then rolled over my body several times before pinning me down.

Maybe that was a little exaggerated, but I was sore everywhere. My mouth even hurt, though I think that had to do more with clenching my teeth than anything. I’d thought the run home would make the panic go away, and then I realized that I’d left everything in my bag, and I do mean everything. Even when I didn’t take any of the pills, I kept them with me at all times, just in case.

I’d been trying to wean myself off them for the last two months, but the nightmares still came.

It was the only thing that kept the monsters away when it got real bad.

Thankfully, when I got back to my room my bag was sitting on my bed as if it had been there the whole time.

Everything locked up tight.

I’d breathed a sigh of relief and promptly taken a shower, ready to face the next day of training with all the enthusiasm of getting a root canal.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved soccer.

But the training part? Where my muscles hurt so bad I was afraid I was going to have a problem sitting on the toilet? Not my favorite part.

I winced as I sat up in bed and then slowly pulled my feet over the side, trying not to inhale too deeply, since it hurt to breathe. I walked like a grandma to the shower and searched for some Tiger Balm to rub on my body. I barely got one cupboard open before I heard his voice.

“Looking for something?”

“Your whistle,” I said with a hiss. “So I can flush it down the toilet.”

“I sleep with it under my pillow, and I have a spare.”

“Now that’s a dream come true.”

“What?” I could feel him