“You’re sure the cleats weren’t in the kitchen?”
I could see the devilish glint in his eyes, the small smirk he was trying desperately to squash.
“Positive,” I lied.
He nodded and his smirk widened. “That’s a shame. If they were, I was thinking of having you pay for it later.”
“P-pay…”
My stomach dropped with anticipation as the meaning behind his sentiment sank in.
“I guess you still could?” I offered. “I mean, even though the cleats were in my bag.”
He laughed and then reached up to cradle my neck so he could press a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“First we have to get you to your game.”
I smiled. “You’re able to take me?” I asked. “I thought you had a meeting with the construction team for the swim club?”
Since the Olympics, Freddie had been in no rush to jump back into the limelight. He took time off before deciding his next move would be to open a swim club for the underprivileged in central London. His foundation had partnered with Nike and they were due to break ground on the project in a week.
“I had the team move it to another day. I couldn’t miss your final.”
I smiled and popped up onto my toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “We should go out with Georgie and your mum after the game to celebrate.”
He peered at me out of the corner of his eye. “Brilliant idea. I have a feeling there will be a lot to celebrate.”
“WE BELIEVE, WE believe, we believe in ANDIE!”
“We believe, we believe, we believe in ANDIE!”
The entire stadium was on their feet for the final seconds of our game. Fans were chanting behind me. Arsenal’s offense was making their way down the field so I stepped out in front of the goal line and watched as the ball made its way closer to me. I’d been bored, waiting for this moment for 89 minutes; my teammates had owned the field and I hadn’t touched the ball once. Now, in the final seconds of the game as the other team got desperate to even the score, maybe I’d actually get to play my part.
I rolled out my wrist, testing it out of habit. It still gave me trouble every now and then, but nothing compared to how it’d felt during the Olympic Games. I bent my knees and loaded my weight onto the balls of my toes. I had to be light on my feet, ready to leap at a moment’s notice. The ball slipped down the field, closer and closer.
“WE BELIEVE, WE BELIEVE, WE BELIEVE IN ANDIE!”
Arsenal’s left-side striker moved the ball across the field and wove through defenders. She broke away and instead of crossing it to a streaking teammate, she reared back and rocketed the ball for the net. It was low and headed to the right. In microseconds my body reacted, throwing itself into the calculated trajectory of the ball. It ripped through my hands but hit my chest with a heavy thud and I wrapped myself around it. Seconds later, the shouts from the crowd finally sank in. The game hadn’t been called yet, but I knew we’d won. I could let go.
My teammates were there, pulling me to my feet and throwing themselves against me. I laughed, too full of adrenaline to register the excitement. It was the final game of the Women’s Champions League, which meant I’d made it through my rookie season with my new club undefeated. They’d announce us as the league champions, and more than likely, there would be a giant trophy waiting for us after the game wrapped up.
“You did it, Foster!” my teammate Sasha shouted before throwing her arms around me. She was a tiny thing and the best striker we had. It was because of her that we had our only point on the board.
“You killed it out there.”
She laughed. “Yeah, well hopefully we can give you some more wiggle room next time.”
I slung my arm around her shoulders. “I’ll remember you said that.”
We walked in tandem toward the center of the field. Both teams were congregating there, shaking hands and offering pleasantries to one another before Arsenal’s coach led them off the field. We always stayed in the center so our assistant coach could lead us through some quick post-game stretches.