Page 58 of Yours, For Now

I went in for it. I skipped around the captain and aimed for the other guy; he elbowed me and pushed me to the side. I took the hit, a burst of pain radiating from where he'd dug into my side, and I ran behind him. The rest of my team organized to defend from the attack, and I was the one protecting from behind. I tried to steal the ball, but he pushed me away.

"Don't let him do that! Referee!" Lina yelled from her spot at the edge of the field. "C'mon, Gabe! Give him hell!"

I chuckled and went back to it.

A scuffle exploded out of nowhere; three of their guys and two of ours pushed at each other. I broke them up, and we went back to playing.

The next time I gained control of the ball, I sprinted toward the opposing team's goalkeeper. I had two guys on my tail, and one approaching me from the left. My chances were high to score; I was in the perfect position to avoid an offside.

I was so focused on the guy to the left that I didn't see the one that shoulder-checked me from the right. I kept my balance and pushed sideways, the ball still between my feet.

It might have been an accident, or maybe not, but the elbow I got to my eyebrow hurt like hell regardless. When the next push dropped me to the floor and I burnt my knee against the polyurethane, I let inertia fall me to the ground.

The whistle went off. I took a few deep breaths and lifted my hand to my eyebrow. The dull pain at the spot exploded into shards when I touched; I winced, which caused another wave of pain to erupt. Blood stained my fingers.

Jaime, the guy acting as referee approached me. "You okay?"

Lina showed up right behind him. "Gabe! Are you okay? That asshole!" She pointed to the referee. "You're gonna give him a red card, right?"

I chuckled, but a few body parts hurt in the process. I winced again, and more pain erupted.

"You can't be here," Jaime told Lina.

"Chill, Jaime." I put up a hand, and Mario, a teammate, helped me stand. "She didn't know."

"He's hurt. Of course I wanted to check on him." Lina came close to me. She put a hand on my chest for balance and stood on her tippy-toes, inspecting my wound. "You need that taken care of."

"Gabe." Jaime warned me. "She needs to be out."

Lina turned to him. "You can talk to me. Gabe is my boyfriend, not my handler."

Jaime shook his head. "I asked you to leave. You didn't."

"Fine, fine, I'm going! But give that guy a red card."

"Don't tell me how to do my job." He pointed at me next. "There are three minutes left. Don't play them, go get that wound disinfected."

"But we'll play at a disadvantage—" I tried, while Lina hooked a hand around my elbow.

"It's fine, FIFA won't know. And I am giving that guy a red card, anyway. Not because your girlfriend said so."

Lina's smile blossomed triumphant anyway, and I let her guide me out of the field while the other guys went back to the game.

"Do you know where we might find a first aid kit?" she asked, trying to get me to sit on a bleacher.

"I don't know if we have any around." I didn't sit down. "But I have one in my car. Long story, but we have my mom to thank for it."

"Good. Let's go. You can tell me the story while I help you take care of that."

I tried to grab my bag, water bottle, and towel, but Lina didn't let me.

She gave me the mugs, and she carried everything else. "I'm a strong modern woman. Let me help."

I shook my head. "I'm not that badly injured."

She quirked an eyebrow my way as we got out of the field area. "The way that cut is bleeding, I'm reserving judgment."

An involuntary frown pulled at my cut, and I held back a wince. "Huh. I thought it was sweat."