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Sounds like quite the arsenal.

Your return fire was formidable too.

It took some Googling lol

No shame in the Google game. I had my book in front of me.

Is that what happened? You read it and thought of me?

Yeah. Is that lame?

Not at all. I want the whole arsenal.

Well, some of them seem to be about men.

Gross.

Agreed. But I promise to send you any of the poems that make me think of you.

I’m looking forward to it.

Me too ;)

I’m having girl’s night with Billie, but feel free to send more as you read.

Enjoy your night. Tell Billie hello from me.

Will do. Night, Jamie.

Night.

With a sigh, Jamie brought her phone to her chest and let herself bask in the glory of a moment with Tessa. Digital or not, progress was progress. She was going to have to tell Lila she’d be holding on to her book for a while longer.

Chapter 13

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the weekend’s worst losers.” Peter O’Riley’s greeting was met with scowls as the women’s team joined the men on the practice pitch.

Jamie narrowed her eyes at him. None of them needed a reminder of their tough loss to Chelsea in their season opener over the weekend. That five-nil final score haunted them via headlines and social media. Comments were made about Jamie in particular since she had gotten an offer from Chelsea and had turned it down. Speculations about her supposed regret made her turn off her phone. Not to mention the slew of texts from her father about every step she went wrong.

“Fuck off, O’Riley,” Paige replied, throwing up her middle finger for emphasis.

“You’re not angry at me,” Peter shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re angry at yourselves. For getting absolutely fucking embarrassed on your first match day in top flight football.”

Jamie glanced at the touchline, wondering if the men’s manager might call the forward off, but found Donny deep in conversation with Rebecca, both of them with their phones in their hands. Jamie shot a glare in Peter’s direction.

“It’s early in the season,” she said. “We have all the coming matches to prove ourselves.”

“Yeah, to prove yourselves all the way back to relegation,” he scoffed.

“Chelsea are the defending champions, it was always going to be an uphill battle,” Neriah chimed in.

Jamie found herself charmed by how united they were. After the match, there had been some bickering in the dressing room about missed opportunities. But like people not allowing outsiders to disparage their family, this squad would not let some fuckboy get between them.

“Oh, please,” Peter said. “Just admit you’re shit.”

“Shut the fuck up, O’Riley,” Jordan interjected before Paige could charge at him. “You can’t talk shit when you hit the crossbar three times in our latch match.”

Peter gaped at his goalkeeper. “That was unlucky.”