Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,52
it on a professional team, I just wanted him to want me back in a way that was real, purely us. And I knew that I was asking a lot, so I gave him chances, what girl wouldn’t? I knew I had baggage, so I was giving him a free pass, and the accusations against me weren’t exactly helping. I just wanted him to look past it all and see me. I needed him to see me.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the onslaught of tears.
“Stop.” Matt blew the whistle. “We’re done for the day.”
My head jerked up as panic seized my chest. Was he giving up on me? Was he firing me as his client? “No, no, no, I’ll try harder!”
“No.” His voice was stern but his expression was soft. “I’ve worked you too hard. It’s fine . . . you need a break, you need . . . fun.”
Why the heck did he look guilty?
I crossed my arms. “Fun? As in, I need to go to a theme park? Shopping? What do you mean fun?”
He let out an exhausted sigh. “Just put the attitude on hold, and maybe pause the sarcasm. We planned something for you, a sort of party to say good job for all the hellish training and dealing with an asshole as your agent, coach, and friend.”
I smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Why did he still look guilty?
“We invited some of Jagger and Slade’s teammates, a few of them said they knew you from college. I thought it would be fun for you to hang out with people . . .” He swallowed and added with a rasp, “Your age.”
I jerked back. “Oh.”
His smile seemed forced, dark circles lined his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? “I had Mack plan the whole thing. We rented out one of the rooms at the country club, got a DJ. Things are about to get lit.”
“Don’t say lit, you can’t get away with it like Jagger can,” I teased, even though I felt like crying.
He nodded, then grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I’m proud of you.”
He dropped that same hand.
I clenched it to make sure I wasn’t wrong.
And then Matt Kingston turned around and walked back toward the gear and gathered it up, leaving me standing in the middle of a field with a broken heart.
Other guys.
Guys my age.
He was proud.
He was done.
And I was devastated.
I was in another pretty dress.
A drink was pressed into my hand.
It tasted bland.
Willow had done my hair, which fell in loose curls around my shoulders. I was wearing a backless dress with a pair of her Jimmy Choos that made my legs look even longer than they already were. I didn’t feel like a princess, though. More like a lamb out for the slaughter.
Guys from college recognized me, alright.
They recognized me as the girl that punched her coach and was rumored to have seduced him in the locker room in order to try to make it to pro. Cheers.
A few of them were nice to me.
One of them paid me too much attention. I couldn’t remember his name, mainly because I didn’t like the way he kept staring at my chest.
“I need another drink,” I told Willow as I walked over to the punch and bypassed it for the bar. “Vodka, double, on the rocks, with a lime,” I said in an anxiety-filled voice.
“Are you drinking on a school night?” an amused voice said from behind me.
I turned around and gave Jagger a middle-finger salute. “And to think they let you out of the retirement home! How’s it feel to be free?”
He just laughed. “Hey, as long as my dick still works.”
I made a face. “Maybe don’t say that around Matt.”
“Your cheeks are puffy again,” he said, suddenly serious.
I shifted on my feet. “Thought makeup hid that.”
“Nothing hides sadness the way we want it to, does it?”
“Why are you suddenly finding your tiny heart and using it to have a conversation with me?” I wondered out loud.
“I like Willow. She’s fun. She’s carefree. She’s young, spontaneous, hysterical. But, people like you, people like us,” he said in a mysterious tone, “we’re forced to age a lot faster than we’d like . . . I’d say you may even be older than our friend Matt.”
I snorted.
“He likes you.” Jagger shrugged. “More than he likes me and Slade combined, and he gets millions from us. He would fucking give me both his kidneys and never look back.”
“Well, that