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Chapter Fifteen

Darien

S hantal is in deep thought, I can tell. Her little ponytail swishes as she jogs over, already plotting her path to the ball.

‘Just us,’ I tease her, dribbling back towards the net. ‘No one to connect with.’

‘No need,’ she replies.

In one swift move, hooks her foot round mine and steals the ball. The way she crosses me so effortlessly is pretty damn amazing. Her ball control is insane. I’m trying to catch her, but she’s a winger – she’s got to be fast, too. I’ve never played on a team or in any particular position, just kicked the ball around till I grasped the sport, like most kids growing up here. Shantal, though, is serious.

Once I compose myself, I’m able to get around her to stick out my leg, and the ball slips my way, letting me gain possession. Unfortunately, I’m now darting around an aggressive Shantal.

She hops back a few steps and flaps her T-shirt, trying to keep cool. My eyes unconsciously travel to her exposed midriff, the waistband of her Nike Pros peeking out over her football shorts, as she wipes her face with the hem of the shirt. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before, because she’s clearly built like a footballer. Strong, sculpted legs, toned arms and abs: she is literally knock-me-out wow.

Meu Deus . This is unexpected.

Something warm floods my chest and creeps lower than that, even though I try to concentrate on getting this ball past her, you know, just your average football one-on-one.

So naturally, collision is inevitable when Shantal swoops in and fights me for possession. She brings her leg over mine and tosses the ball behind us with the tap of a cleated foot whose spikes are maybe an inch from leaving scratches on my skin. Even when I fight back and succeed in stealing it at such close quarters that my back is almost against her chest, she keeps chipping away at me. She is merciless and takes no breaks for ‘are you good’ and ‘you okay’. She is a little too good at this. She has beautiful footwork. She has a beautiful body.

Shantal takes advantage of my distraction, sweeping the ball from beside my foot. She smacks an absolute cannon into the top right of the net. I’m shocked to the point where I can barely tell my own legs to move. Well, either shocked or in complete and utter awe. Why isn’t this chick playing club football?

‘Fuckin’ hell, Shantal,’ I manage when she returns to centre pitch with a dimpled grin and the ball at her feet.

‘Keep up,’ she quips, executing a flawless drag-back. She uses her size as an advantage rather than a drawback, darting away quickly. I’m still in the fight, but as I snatch away the ball and dribble around her, she tries her level best to keep me from getting away with it. If I nudge her arm away, she nudges mine back. We go shoulder-to-shoulder, the proximity marked enough to make out the baby hairs on her forehead. I couldn’t care less if I won or lost. At this point, I’m just making excuses to so much as breathe the same air as her. I can’t do much else other than admire this woman.

It’s my slide tackle to step in and rein in a slightly long ball that ends the frantic scramble for control of the game. All of a sudden, we’re lying in the turf, laughing both at and with one another. I’m so close to Shantal now that I can count the barely discernible freckles on her nose, that I can feel her breath on my cheek as she loses her composure with her eyes squeezed shut, burying her head into my shoulder. She snatches my voice away so even when I try to laugh, I can’t get a sound out. I feel like it’s ridiculous. Yeah, it’s ridiculous.

It’s immaculate. It’s a moment that ends as soon as it had begun.

‘Hey! Dar!’

Shit. It’s Celina’s voice, and not too far away, either. Shantal pulls away with a gasp as we scramble to our feet in an attempt to amend the situation, but coming our way with a smirk on her face, my trusty trainer’s seen it all.

She stops before us, cocking her head, interrogating us in turn as if she can glean some information from our very demeanours. ‘Hmm. Well, Darien, I’m here to let you know the mayor called. You do recall you’ve got civic duties today?’

‘Wha … civic duty?’ I groan, grateful at least for a distraction on which to focus all my emotion. ‘Noooo!’

‘Sorry, but you know these things. You’ve got to go talk to him, shake hands, other niceties,’ says Celina with a shrug. ‘You have fifteen minutes, and I,’ she holds up a backpack, ‘have good clothes. Go look pretty.’

She shoots a wink and a smile at Shantal, but our steady technology genius just looks slightly more irritated than usual.

Forget that happened. Her eyes throw a silent piercing glare at me.

I nod her way. Okay , I imply with a widening of my own eyes.

‘See you guys,’ I actually blurt, before grabbing the backpack, turning, and nearly bolting to the locker rooms.

My heart is beating double time. I’m grinning stupidly. But that’s for no one to see or know except myself.