Scoring Wilder

What the hell? How had I not heard anything about this?

"I'm not sure what you're asking me, Jim. They're all great soccer players, but I’m not there to date them. I’m there to help coach. I’ve followed Kinsley’s career for the past year. She was the top recruit in the country and I'm sure she'll be a contender for the Olympic team when they hold tryouts in a few months."

At that point I'd officially left the planet. Making a list for being pretty was all well and good, but him complimenting my soccer skills on national television made me want to do cartwheels around the neighborhood.

The host yammered on, and then they cut to a commercial so that they could bring on the next guest. I fell back on the bed with a giant grin. "I have officially died. I am now speaking to you posthumously."

Becca laughed and fell back next to me. "I swear he wants you. Seriously, I was watching him at practice and he barely takes his eyes off you."

"That's because he's helping me perfect my drills."

"Or he's imaging you doing those drills sans clothing."

“Didn’t you just hear the man? He’s not there to date us.”

“Yeah, right. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

I laughed and rolled over. "You are hallucinating, and did you forget about the guy who was waiting on our porch the other day? I'm not equipped to handle any more romance problems."

And that was the truth. If Josh and Trey had been capable of cheating, then a guy like Liam, who had women tattooing his face on their vaginas, was without a doubt a guy I couldn’t trust.





Chapter Six


I was getting ready for practice on Friday morning when Coach Davis poked her head into the locker room.

“Kinsley, Becca, and Tara— I need to see you girls in my office for a second,”

she declared before heading back into the hallway. I finished lacing up my cleats and then glanced up at Becca.

“That sounded ominous,” I said as we followed Tara out of the locker room and down to Coach Davis’ office. The door was cracked open, but after the three of us stepped inside, Coach Davis motioned for me to close it.

Uh oh.

“So, I'm sure you girls are aware of why I called you in this morning?" Coach Davis asked with an authoritative tone.

“Um, I'm assuming it’s because of the show last night?" I answered, eyeing Becca for backup. Were we in some kind of trouble? I could hear Tara’s voice in my head, “Um, it’s not our fault that we’re pretty.”

“What show?” Tara asked, and I couldn’t decide if she was actually na?ve or if she just wanted the entire scenario repeated so she could revel in it all over again. My money was on the latter.

Coach Davis sighed and quickly filled her in on the list as well as Liam’s interview. Of course, she left out all the fun details… like how hot Liam had looked in all his HD glory. Sigh.

Tara acted like this was the first she’d heard of it. “Oh, wow. They listed me?! I can’t believe it. Well, I can. I was on that list last year, so I’d assumed I would be on it again—”

I wanted to stab one of Coach Davis' pencils in my eye just to get out of hearing her finish that sentence. I know that stabbing my eye wouldn’t cause hearing loss, but maybe the trauma of the situation would shut Tara up.

“It’s important to realize what it actually means for each of you,” Coach Davis cut her off, and I had to bite back a smile. “As collegiate athletes at the top soccer program in the country, you are role models for young girls everywhere. You can't help being put on those lists, but I want you to pick and choose any interviews you do in the coming months very carefully. You'll be getting a lot of publicity within the next few weeks and I need you to remember what it is you're working toward.

“I'd prefer if you each spoke with me about any interviews prior to you accepting them. I can't force you to decline, but this isn't my first rodeo and you aren't my first soccer players to make that list. You need to be careful about your image and reputation.”

My image. Did I even have any image? I felt a wave of nerves roll through me as her words sank in. Was my life going to change? Was I prepared for this?

Nope. No. No. I was not ready for the limelight.

"So I shouldn't wear my bikini to practice?" Becca asked, lightening the mood.

Coach Davis shot her an exasperated glare.

"Just keep a good head on your shoulders. I think every one of you girls has a chance of competing at the Olympic level if you play your cards right this season."

There it was again.

The Olympics.

R.S. Grey's books