Ryan Hunter Read online

  By the evening, I couldn’t bear being with myself any longer and decided to give Mitchell a call.

  “What’s cracking?” he answered the phone.

  “Nothing much. Bored as hell. Wanna come play some Call of Duty?”

  “Sorry, can’t. I’m meeting Cloey in twenty.”

  Pacing my room, I growled but with my palm placed over the phone so he wouldn’t hear me. Then I said, “How did things go with Matthews? You cool now?”

  There was a little pause and a weird Tony-sigh. “I guess, but I can’t tell for sure.”

  Now that made me curious. I slumped into my desk chair, stacking my feet on the corner of my bed. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing, really. I went over, we watched her favorite movies, and then suddenly she threw me out.”

  “She did what?” Oh my god, could it get any better?

  “She seemed totally distracted all day, which is totally untypical for her when she can watch Hugh Jackman in action.”

  I took a look at myself in the mirror on the door. A smile slipped to my lips as I had a pretty good imagination of what might have been distracting her.

  Tony continued, “Sometime in the afternoon she found a lame-ass excuse to make me leave without hurting my feelings.”

  “But you are hurt.” No chance to miss that even over the phone.

  “Damn, of course, I am. I mean, she never did that before. Something’s totally off with her recently.”

  Dipping my head back, I studied the light spots on ceiling. “I told you she’d find out what’s going on. Maybe that’s it. If you don’t come clean with her soon, you might only make it worse.” And as soon as he did, Liza would be mine. Dammit, I didn’t want to wait any longer.

  “Yeah, I know that. I’ll tell her tomorrow after training. Also because I don’t want to sleep with Cloey before I’ve got things straight with Liz.” He gave a bitter laugh. “And Cloey seems to have reached her patience limit where that is concerned.”

  And here I was talking to my friend again, but I swore to myself it would be the very last time. “You still sure about that?” I sighed. “I can just picture how you’re going to be single after that one night.”

  “Totally sure. Cloey is the right one for me.” There was a short silence, then he went on, “I know you only mean it in the best possible way, but believe me, she won’t dump me.”

  “All right. You’re on your own then, dude. I hope it’s worth it for you. See you at training, tomorrow.”

  I rang off and went to do some needless nonsense just to kill time until it was late enough to go to bed. With the news of Liza being a bit rattled today hanging in the air, I couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow.

  Three p.m. on Tuesday was a long time coming. While I usually came to training just in time to start, today I found myself on the ground early, scanning for Liza. She stood at the middle of the field, waiting for Tony, who’d just jogged over to her. I walked up behind her, but he beat me there and said, “Hi, Liz. Are those shades new?”

  Ah, so she’d brought my sunglasses. “Nope, they’re mine,” I said as I stepped around Liza and pulled them off her nose. She didn’t protest but gifted me with the sweetest smile that made my day. I didn’t get around noticing that not even Tony had gotten such a nice greeting today. And it clearly confused him.

  Liza noticed his puzzled look, too, and quickly explained, “He gave them to me after the party. Hangover and sunlight—not a good combination.”

  I remembered the moment when she’d knocked into my chest because of the blinding light and laughed. With the warm sun on our backs, we walked over to the other players, and I couldn’t be happier to have Liza at the soccer training today. Two of the best things in my life combined—what more could I wish for?

  Out of this cheerful mood, I asked Mitchell, “Up to play captain of the other team today?”

  “Sure. Want to pick players in turn?” he replied and his gaze skated over to Liza. When he winked at her, I knew he was going to pick her first.

  But I couldn’t let this happen, so I laid a possessive arm around her shoulders and told Mitchell, “Yep, you can pick first. But not her.”

  Liza stopped abruptly, and since I didn’t let go of her, I was dragged to a halt, too. The two of them stared at me like I’d just told them that aliens had landed on the school’s roof. It didn’t bother me. I had plans. Pulling my arm away from Liza, I made sure to skim my fingers through her soft ponytail. Then I gave her my sweetest you-have-all-my-attention smile. “Play with me?”

  Tony looked seriously surprised, but the dude better shut up now and let her answer.

  She seemed a bit uncertain, but finally she drawled, “O–kay.”

  Holy cow, that was it! She’d chosen my team over Tony’s. I felt the urge to victory-punch the air.

  Tony clapped his hands once, obviously approving. “Cool. Let’s play some ball, guys,” he exclaimed and ran ahead, starting to pick his players.

  We followed him at a slow stroll, and I took the chance to ask, “Do you know how to play soccer, Matthews?”

  She shrugged and gave me a wry smile. “Kick the ball into the goal?”

  “Yeah, that and a little more.” I chuckled. So we were facing a small problem here. I rubbed my neck, feeling a bit lost because there was not enough time to lay out all the rules to her. “For now, just don’t touch the ball with your hands and try not to kick it past those white lines.”

  When I pointed out the boundary lines to her, she frowned at me. “You know, I’m not a complete imbecile.”

  I knew that. But I also knew that she’d never played soccer before. But the hell with it, today it wasn’t about winning. It was only about having Liza on my team. And to my shocked surprise, she played a good game. Her kicks were hard, and she didn’t catch the ball with her hands, when it came racing her way. In fact, she ducked twice to avoid getting hit instead of stopping it, but that was okay.

  After the first half, Liza even did a solo-run toward the goal parallel to Susan Miller, who played for Tony’s team today. The book lover dropped back, and several guys shouted, “Offside!”

  Liza stopped before the goal, her sweet face knitted with confusion. I headed over, grabbing the ball, and gave her an encouraging smile. “Never mind. I’ll explain this tomorrow.” Kicking the soccer ball to Ramirez, I cast a glance back over my shoulder and praised her, “Nice shot.”

  She didn’t take that last incident well. Actually, it seemed to have taken all the spirit out of her, and she kept a low profile somewhere at the back of the grounds. With some kicks toward her, I tried to get her back into the game, but she didn’t make it easy for me. And then a collision with Cloey did the rest.

  I didn’t see exactly if it was an accident or a deliberated foul, but Liza dropped to the grass, holding her shin, moaning something awful.

  “Come on, guys! Play fair!” I shouted, staking Cloey with a hard glare as I jogged over to Liza. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her up. “You okay?”

  She only nodded, but her eyes were glistening with tears. I knew if I tended to her now, she’d just feel all the more embarrassed, so I let it go. But I kept a close eye on her.

  It didn’t take long until Cloey fouled her again, but this time Liza let go of a round of cussing that made the toughest guys on our team turn her way, looking impressed. Me, too. It was clear that Cloey went after Liza for a reason, so I grabbed the girl by her arm after the game and told her in no uncertain terms that fouling team members was off the mark and that she’d be off the team if she didn’t take my advice. Seriously pissed, Cloey went straight for the parking lot, driving off with screeching tires, which was fine with me. She was a good player, but if she caused a riot in my team, I wouldn’t hesitate to kick her out.

  I guessed Liza had left while I dealt with Cloey and returned to the bench to grab my backpack, but luckily she hadn’t. She came walking my way when I turned around, but she also had company. Tony was with her, and I wondered
if this was my fault. If Cloey hadn’t been off so fast, he might be leaving the grounds with her and not with Liza. I gritted my teeth, cast a quick look at her leg that had already taken on a nice shade of blue, and said, “Put ice on that ankle. I want you fit tomorrow.”

  Jealous to a point where I hated myself, I didn’t wait for her to respond, just walked off to my car and drove home. I told myself that they wouldn’t be hanging out all evening, that they probably just rode home together. But in my head I couldn’t get rid of the image of Mitchell tending to her hurt leg. Touching it, rubbing it, giving her a soft massage. One that I wanted to give her.

  I took a long shower, trying to burn those thoughts away with the hot water, but it didn’t work. During dinner with my parents, I could hardly concentrate on my meal.

  “Is everything okay, son?”

  “Hm?” I looked up to find my dad’s concerned eyes on me. “Nah, all’s fine,” I said quickly and finished my meal.

  Heading upstairs back to my room, I only wanted this evening to be over, so another day with Liza would begin. And then I saw my cell phone blinking with a new text coming in. It was from an unknown sender, which was strange considering I had over three hundred contacts saved on my cell. Slumping on the bed, I opened the message.

  DON’T NEED TO TRAIN TOMORROW. AND I WANT OFF THE TEAM. LIZA (MATTHEWS)

  Bloody hell, she had my number and I didn’t have hers? This was a first for me. But when the initial joy about her texting me dimmed, I frowned at the words on the screen. She wanted off? No!

  I already typed in a reply. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT GETTING—But then I broke off, studying the blank wall above my desk. Why did she want to leave the team? Maybe I should tell her that I talked to Cloey and she wouldn’t have to suffer any more attacks from Tony’s new sweetheart. But damn, what if it wasn’t that? Her leg had looked really bad. Maybe she was seriously hurt.

  I deleted what I had started to type and wrote instead: DOES IT HURT SO MUCH? Then I hit send and, like a stupid preschooler, I kept staring at the black screen, waiting and hoping for another text to come in. I even got excited when the display started to blink again without making any noise.

  NO, LEG IS FINE. I’M JUST DONE WITH SOCCER. THANKS FOR YOUR HELP. BYE

  What the hell? This was bad. And I refused to let her get off just like that. Not by sending a damn message. If she wanted out, she’d have to face me first. And suddenly it hit me like a stone on the head. Mitchell. He’d let the bomb go off.

  I thumbed through my contacts until I found his number and called.

  “Hey,” he answered after the third ring.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “What you mean?”

  “I got a text from Matthews,” I snarled into the phone.

  “Oh.”

  Oh? Was that all? “What have you done?”

  “Um…what did she say?”

  “She wants out of the team, and it’s not because of her leg hurting. You broke it to her, didn’t you?”

  Mitchell sounded more than just a little depressed when he said, “Yeah. I told her I’m dating Cloey. Guess she didn’t take it well.”

  “Why do you have to guess? Didn’t you stay with her to find out?” This was the least someone would expect from his best friend, I thought.

  “She left me standing outside. I didn’t follow her in. She looked really miserable, and I don’t think she would have liked me there.”

  “I see.” Didn’t mean I had to understand. I would have gone after her if she’d wanted it or not. But for now it was all I needed to know. And it was probably no use in trying to make her change her mind about playing soccer.

  Mitchell cleared his throat. “Hey, listen, dude. You two seem to get along really well these days. I mean with the training and all. Would you mind taking care of her a little?”

  Fuck, yes! There was no need to ask me. I was all set to give her the strong shoulder she needed to lean on.

  But apparently, that wasn’t what Mitchell meant. “It would help if you could steer her thoughts into another direction for a while. You’re cool with girls, and I think she’d appreciate your charm. Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to get personal with her. Just a little flirting, so she wouldn’t keep thinking about Cloey and me all the time.”

  “You want me to distract her?”

  “Yeah, just for a while. Until she gets over it.”

  How seriously bad was that from someone who claimed to be her best friend? But then I intended to be around Liza, if he had asked me to or not. That he approved was just a bonus. “Okay, I’ll do it. She’s a nice girl, and hanging out with her is fun.” I paused for a moment then added, “And I still think she’s a way better choice than Cloey. Just don’t come whining when it doesn’t work out between the two of you, because by the time you realize it, Liza might have chosen someone else.” Me.

  “All right.”

  We rang off, and I sat there in my room for a long moment, wrapping my mind around the shit that was going on. Distracting Liza. What a douche bag. I’d distract her all right. But I’d do it my way, and only because I intended to get her mind free of Mitchell and ready for me. Could turn out to be an interesting adventure. And nothing was left to stop me. A slow smile crept to my lips as I keyed in another message for Liza.

  OKAY. TALKED TO MITCHELL. SO THE CAT’S OUT?

  No answer came to that text, and after a few minutes I considered calling her number. But then I had a way better idea. Yeah, it was just the right thing to get her mind off her misery. I typed a new message. CAN YOU SLIP OUT AFTER DARK?

  It didn’t take long until one came back this time. I PROBABLY COULD. BUT WHY WOULD I DO THAT?

  I smirked at the phone while I punched in: DISTRACTION ;-)

  She was quick to reply. REALLY, I’M NOT UP TO MORE TORTURE.

  That wasn’t quite encouraging, but neither was it a definite no. I pushed off the chair and headed to my wardrobe, skimming through the many dress shirts in there. A white one would be just fine for what I had in mind tonight. I rolled up the sleeves, slipped into tattered blue jeans and light gray tennis shoes, and grabbed the Indian’s cap from my desk lamp. The ball cap had always brought me luck in the past, and I wouldn’t leave it behind tonight.

  Loping down the wide, winding stairs, I told my mom, who just came out of the dining room, that I was off to see Rachel and Phil and that she didn’t need to wait for me. Then I headed out into the garage and started my Audi.

  It was already dark when I reached the avenue where Liza lived. There was light in her room, and the window was open again with some depressing music drifting out. I thanked God for the high temperatures in California as I said a bit louder than usual, “Get down here, Matthews!”

  The volume lowered, and a couple of seconds later, Liza appeared in the window, dabbing at her cheeks. Yeah, the crying wasn’t yet over. “Why did you come?” She narrowed her bloodshot eyes at me. “Can’t you read? I said no.”

  Her tone didn’t quite match her annoyed message. In fact, there was this eighty to twenty percent chance that she was actually happy to see me. “You said no torturing you. I’m not going to. Now get into some nice clothes, wash your face, and come out.”

  “I’m not in the mood—”

  Blah, blah. I jumped, grabbing a thick branch of the tree, and hoisted myself onto the shed. That shut her up. And it didn’t matter in which mood she was. I’d make sure to get her into the right mood if she only gave me a chance.

  “May I come in?” I said through a smirk as I balanced on the roof of the shed toward her room and climbed inside without waiting for her invitation.

  Obviously trying to catch her breath, Liza stumbled backward away from the window until she landed on her butt on the bed that was centered in the room with the headboard attached to one wall. There was a cool desk with a computer and tons of book, and a Hello Kitty poster stuck on the door opposite the window.

  I sat down on the windowsi
ll and grabbed the edge. “Nice room,” I said, then I narrowed my eyes at her and added, “You look miserable.”

  “Gee, thanks for the news update,” she snarled back.

  Okay, I wasn’t really prepared for seeing her down like this, though I should probably have known. This made me a bit uncomfortable, and I wished we weren’t in a dimly lit room with the soundtrack from The Lord of the Rings playing. Lifting my cap, I raked a nervous hand through my hair. “Listen, I totally suck at this whole want-to-talk-about-it crap.”

  “Then why are you here?” She clearly tried to stake me with her cynicism, but I wouldn’t let her have it.

  I gave a cool shrug. “Perhaps because I’m good at having fun and taking your mind off certain things,” I suggested. “So what do you say? Want to come party a little?”

  “I think I’ll stay home and listen to some music instead.”

  At this precise moment, she looked like another party with me was the last thing she wanted in her life, and I saw my plan vaporizing. Damn. I needed her to come with me, because I knew she’d like it once she stopped thinking about that douche bag, Mitchell.

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” I begged. “No guy is worth it.” And before I knew it, I had walked over to her, took her hands, and pulled her up from the bed. “Come on, Liza.” It felt like the right thing to use her first name, just to get us on a more personal level.

  And when this really small smile tugged on her lips for a millisecond, I knew I scored. But she stopped it immediately and made a whiny face instead. “I really don’t know—”

  “I do,” I said firmly, and since she’d always given in to my pushing in the past few days, I added, “And now stop arguing.” We stared at each other’s eyes for the length of a breath. It was hard not to reach up and stroke her rosy cheek and that silky soft hair.

  In the end she let out a deep sigh. “Can I shower first?”

  “Oh please, do that,” I said. She really needed some pepping up before we went where I had planned to. I dropped onto her bed, all set for waiting until she was ready to leave. But then my gaze fell on a pile of photo albums.