“Oh, it’s far too late for that,” Vera says, and then takes a champagne bottle out of the ice bucket. “Okay everyone, it’s going to go flat and we’ve got two more bottles to get through. Drink up, drink up.”
A bottle pops and the cork goes flying.
Chapter 4
Alejo
I can’t take my eyes off her.
I know I probably should.
I know from the way Luciano keeps frowning at me, that perhaps it’s a little noticeable. Though, if we’re being real here and we take my reputation into account, I suppose I might stare at a lot of women that way.
But Thalia Blackwood doesn’t seem to be most women. At least, not the ones I’ve met.
The moment I ran out onto the field and saw her at the beginning of the week, I knew she was going to be trouble. I don’t have any problems having a female therapist, but someone like her might make things a bit difficult.
Luckily, for my sake, I got over it. She didn’t even have a chance to touch me, didn’t even come near me all week, but I have been watching her. Watching her adjust to the job, watching how she takes everything in with those inquisitive dark eyes. Thirsty for information, to succeed, to prove herself. In some ways, she reminds me of me when I first started.
The way I still am.
I’m watching her now as she sips her champagne, not quite relaxed around us yet. She listens attentively to Luciano speak, because everyone listens to Luciano and that’s what makes him a good captain. Maybe I’m a little jealous, for no reason at all. She’s sitting beside him, leaning in, hanging onto his every word. But Luciano doesn’t seem to react to her the same way I do.
She is quite stunning. Gorgeous seems like too plain of a term for her, so stunning it is. Her nose is cute enough to bite, her lips glossy and pouty, her skin smooth and clear. She shines with beauty and her eyes shine with sadness. When I asked if she was married, when she told me she was divorced, I could see the pain ripping through her. My mother always said I had a supernatural knack for looking in deep, to see the things people try to hide, and with Thalia it’s no different.
Perhaps her sadness is what makes her beautiful. It’s all about the balance.
Either way, she intrigues me. I want to know her story. How she became so sad. Is it more than her divorce? Is it something else? Where did she come from?
Mateo gets up and announces he’s going to bar to get something else to drink other than champagne.
“Alejo,” he says to me, a command to follow.
I do as I’m told and follow Mateo past the velvet rope and to the bar.
He leans against it, looking as debonair as ever, waiting for the bartender’s attention.
“What are you having?” he asks me.
“A beer would be fine.”
He raises his brow. “Vodka soda. You know you need to stay away from beer.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Mateo can be a little bit meddling when it comes to our lives, though to be honest I don’t mind it as much as I should. It keeps me in check, and if anyone knows what he’s doing, it’s Mateo. I trust him. I’ve trusted him as a coach and as a friend since he joined the team two years ago, and he has led us to victories ever since.
As he places the order with the bartender, I say to him, “I have to admit, right now I feel a bit like a kid who has snuck out of the house.”
“And got caught by his father, yes?” he says. “All I’ll say is you and Luciano are free to do whatever you want, and as long as you’re with him, I trust you.”
“You don’t trust me on my own?”
He smiles and gives a slight shake of his head. “Definitely not. Especially if you’re with Rene. Then who knows where you’ll end up.”
Rene Alba is our striker, and at just a few years older than me, he’s as much of a troublemaker as I am. The media likes to print me as the womanizing ladies’ man, but the truth is, it usually just looks like I am. Rene is the one who goes around breaking hearts. I’m just along for the ride. But I guess there have been one or two occasions last year where we’ve