Page 44 of Guarding the Star

“Promise me that if he comes for me, you can protect me.”

“If he comes for you, I don't care about legality,” I say without even thinking.

“Eight blocks,” she says, low.

“Eight blocks,” I repeat.

“I wonder how many times we've crossed paths.”

I don't answer. Because I've asked myself that same question more than once.

Chapter 15

Iris

Nine goals in four weeks. Three assists. Zero cards. Zero late arrivals to practice. Zero party photos on Instagram. Zero sleepless nights.

Hades calls me in after Wednesday practice, and when I walk into her office, I'm convinced she's about to chew me out for something I don't know I've done yet. That's how it works on this team. Hades calls, you sweat, Hades talks, you try to breathe. It doesn't hit me as hard, but some of my teammates dread it.

“Good month,” she says when I sit down.

I wait for the second part. The “but.” The “however.” The raised eyebrow that precedes destruction.

It doesn't come.

“That's it?” I ask.

“That's it.”

“Okay, this is scarier than when you yell at me. You've spent two years screaming, and now you just say good month and go quiet. Are you sick? Is this a trap? Because I know you've been watching tape on a certain player… Don't tell me you signed her and you're not renewing me…”

“Vance. Take the compliment and get out of my office.”

“Yes, boss. I'm out. We're cool.”

“Don't call me boss.”

“Yes, Coach. Oh, and just so you know… that player isn't coming. She's never leaving her club. Zero chance, okay? I'm sure of it.”

“Get out, Iris! Your extension was signed yesterday. Better terms. They'll send it to your agent tomorrow,” she adds.

***

That night, there's a team dinner with sponsors at a downtown restaurant. It's one of those events where I smile, shake hands, and let people tell me they love my goals while I calculate how long until I can leave for a real party.

Paula is standing at the back of the room talking to Tessa. She looks my way, smiles, and then Sloane Hicks appears. Former U-21 national team teammate, now a sports commentator. Killer smile, short hair, swimmer's shoulders. Since I've known her, we've hooked up a few times, the last one three years ago at a federation party. Nothing serious. One night. End of story. We both know the rules, and we know what we want.

She looks me up and down without hiding it and bites her lower lip before pulling me into a hug.

“I've read about your mystery girlfriend. Is it real?”

“It's real,” I confirm.

“Too bad,” she teases, smiling, her hand resting on my waist longer than it needs to.

I play along for a couple more minutes. I do my thing. Iris Vance being Iris Vance: charismatic, approachable, a little flirty with everyone because that's who I am, that's who I've always been.

But Paula's face changes completely.