Page 36 of Offside Play (Love The Game #1)
Jude
T he first touch of the springy grass beneath my football boots felt like coming home.
“I want you to take it easy.” Jorge, the physio who’d been in charge of my treatment plan, was watching from the sidelines, scrutinising my movements as I moved through the warm-up routine. “Remember, it’s your first day back.”
“I know.”
He gave me a thumbs up. “You’ve got this.”
Just running down the pitch was enough to make me smile. I’d been hobbling around for the past fortnight, taking care not to put too much weight on my ankle as I religiously stuck to the rehab plan, and it seemed like it had paid off. My ankle felt completely normal, with no twinges or instability.
Harvey nodded at me as I joined the rest of the squad for passing drills. “Looking good, lad. How’s the ankle holding up?”
“It’s great. Feels like I’m fully recovered.”
“Brilliant. We’ll ease you back in over the next few days, and I’ll check things over with Jorge, but all being well, you should be available for selection this weekend.”
“Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” He smiled before clapping his hands together. “Now, get back to it.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him with a grin.
Jordan sidled up to me during a break in training, a bright blue isotonic drink clasped in his hand. “What’s the verdict? Are you gonna be back for the next match?”
“Looks like it. Hey. Speaking of the match… Do you wanna come over after for a house-warming thing?” Hopefully, Cody would be okay with me inviting everyone to our new place, three days after we’d moved in.
We’d spoken about having a house-warming but hadn’t made any solid plans.
He had to be used to my spontaneous decisions by now, though, didn’t he?
“Fuck yeah, as long as I don’t have to make a cake.”
“No cake. And no PowerPoint presentations, please.” I grinned when he gave me the middle finger. “I guess I should warn you that we won’t have much furniture. There’s garden stuff that the previous owners left behind, but not much inside until our deliveries turn up.”
He glanced up at the sky. “Pray for sun. Or borrow Grant’s waterproof gazebo. That thing’s massive.”
By the end of the training session, I felt like myself again. Match fit and ready to prove myself to the team. And ready to show my new house to my teammates, who had unsurprisingly all said yes to my impromptu house-warming invite. Who turns down a chance to poke around someone’s house?
When I was heading to the car park, my gym bag slung over my shoulder, my phone buzzed with a text from Cody.
Cody:
How did training go? How’s your ankle?
Me:
Great. My ankle’s fine. It looks like I might make the squad on Saturday
Hope you don’t mind but I invited people to ours for a housewarming
Cody:
People? When? The removal team probably won’t even finish until tomorrow evening
Me:
I know. Don’t stress. It’s just gonna be our friends from the team and their families. Saturday after the match. They know about the furniture situation
Why don’t you invite some of the Cheltenham Storm people?
Sixty minutes into my first game back against Crystal Palace, and I was flying. On top of the world. Unstoppable. And Cody was there in the stands, in his rightful place with the partners and families of the players, wearing a football shirt with my name on the back.
I knew the cameras would focus on him, given that this was the first match he’d attended since he’d run onto the pitch, but he’d assured me he didn’t care.
Here, his profile was much lower than it had been in Canada, and even there, the media were apparently losing interest due to the fact that he was no longer an active NHL player.
There’d been an unexpected upside to this whole thing, too.
Although we’d only made a few waves internationally, locally, it had been a whole other story.
Cheltenham Storm, originally a struggling hockey team languishing at the bottom of the EIHL, had been pulled into the spotlight thanks to their connection with Cody.
They’d never managed to sell out their arena before, but not only had record numbers signed up for their season tickets, but they’d also completely sold out of jerseys and merch on their web store.
According to Ross, they were having to put in an emergency order for more stock.
Who knew that my Canadian boyfriend’s illegal one-man pitch invasion would have such a positive effect?
“Jude!”
I spun around to see Lars setting up for a goal kick, and I nodded, bouncing on my feet.
When the whistle blew, he passed the ball straight to me, and I booted it to Grant.
He was tackled by one of the Palace midfielders, but he managed to dribble the ball around him and sent it flying towards Reuben, perfectly set up for a shot at the goal.
I held my breath as the leather connected with Reuben’s boot, and then he smashed it straight into the top corner.
“Yessss!” I ran for my teammates, piling on top of them as the crowd went fucking wild.
Best. Feeling. Ever.