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CHAPTER TWO

KENDRA

“ I think we need to talk about that header. Seriously though, girl, you rose like a freaking salmon.”

My lip throbs as I bend down and unlace my cleats.

I face my goalie and closest friend, Jenna, and point to my lip. “And in the process, I took one for the team.”

“Yeah, well, you might’ve taken an elbow to the face, but you kept the ball out of the net and my run of clean sheets going, so drinks are on me tonight. Even if it is just Diet Cokes.”

Standing from the bench, I slip off one cleat and then the other. Swiping them underneath with my foot, I don’t respond to Jenna or even look at her. I’m not ready for the inquisition about to come my way when I tell her I don’t want to go out.

“Okay, I’ll upgrade it to a Mountain Dew,” she continues, pulling off her jersey and hanging it on one of the hooks lined up above our heads.

I remain quiet, undressing as quickly as possible so I can make it to the showers and then back home to my apartment across town.

When I wrap my towel around me and pull out a shampoo bottle from my wash bag, I make to leave right as a manicured hand lands on my upper arm.

“You are coming out tonight, right?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It was a nil to nil draw. There isn’t much to celebrate, and I’m tired.” I pull the topknot out of my hair, and several blonde strands come away with it, more than the usual amount. “I didn’t sleep well last night, so I was planning on going home early.”

Jenna’s eyes fall to the black tie in my hand, covered in blonde. “We could do pizza night at your place instead?”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, trying to leave again.

“He didn’t show up last night, did he?”

I close my eyes and swallow thickly, my mind traveling to Tyler’s text, still unanswered on my phone. It was our fourth anniversary, and he promised me an uninterrupted night together. Just us. Turned out, he couldn’t even make it past my front door.

“He messaged me to say he needed to report for preseason really early and he couldn’t come over.” I leave out the picture I saw posted of him at Lloyd’s Bar later that evening. “He’s got a lot going on, and so do I with the soccer season in full swing. I’ll see him later in the week.”

Jenna makes a humming sound like she’s about as convinced of that as I am. I’ve been center back for the New York Storm for an entire season since leaving Seattle with Tyler, and in that time, I can count on one hand the number of date nights we’ve had together.

Sure, I knew dating an NHL player would be tough; the season is grueling, and there’s a lot of traveling involved. But no more than what my dad did when he moved to England for his pro soccer career. Since we stayed in the US to be around Mom’s family, he was backward and forward across continents. He always had time for my mom, always made the effort to put her, my brother, and me first.

“You cooked for him and everything though, Kend.” Jenna’s voice sounds sad as she releases my arm, and I let it fall to my side.

The anger, which was overpowered by adrenaline during the game, returns when I remember saving what I could of dinner and throwing the unsalvageable food into the trash. I earn sixty thousand dollars a year, unlike my boyfriend, who makes well over ten times my salary. Probably way more than that, but since he doesn’t tell me, I go with the minimum. The National Women’s Soccer League and NHL are very different worlds—not that I train, travel, or play any less hard.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply, twisting my long hair around my wrist, my towel still wrapped around me as the chill of the locker room hits my cooling body. “I don’t have the capacity to get upset with him again.”

“You can do way better, babe. Truly, you can.”

I flick the lid on my shampoo bottle and bring it to my nose, the honeycomb scent comforting to me and a reminder of my dad’s beehive back home in Ohio. “You’re still in your honeymoon phase with Lee. We’ve been together for four years.”

Jenna’s brows pull together. “And how long have your parents been married exactly?” She waves a hand in front of her. “Forget mine. My dad was a dick. But yours—they have been together since forever, right? I don’t think time has anything to do with it.”

I have zero comeback or justification to her logic, but I’m saved from the conversation when our center forward and captain, Hollie Browne, approaches me with a bright smile. “Nice work out there, Hart. I thought they’d snatch the three points right at the death, but you showed us exactly why we’d signed you.” She takes in my height—I’m not exactly small at five feet eight. “Genuinely, I’ve never seen anyone as good in the air. All their right back had to do was make any kind of connection with the ball, and we would’ve been done.” She offers me another smile and spins on her heel, making her way back to the other side of the room .

Jenna turns back to me. “I hope you gave him a good piece of your mind.”

“I haven’t replied yet,” I say, biting down on my bottom lip. “I have nothing to say to him right now.”

She nods in understanding and then toward the showers. “Come on. Let’s grab a shower and head out for a while. Even if the game was nothing to celebrate, I say we slip in a cocktail or two. Fuck men.”

A laugh bursts out of me, but I can’t help the feeling of sadness as it coats my insides.

When I reach the showers, I turn the faucet and throw my towel over the top of the door. I stand back from the cold spray, but small droplets hit my skin as I wait for the water to heat up.

I know exactly what Jenna is thinking—I’m being too soft on a guy who has made little to zero effort on maintaining our relationship since we moved here last year. I can’t say that I disagree with her since all the signs point to it being one-way traffic. It’s me who texts first in the morning. It’s me who invites him over for dinners, which he then cancels on at the last minute. It’s me who suggested we move in together when we came to New York. It was him who said no and he wanted to take things more slowly, that we were young, and he didn’t want to get too serious, too soon.

And you know what? I believed him.

The water is warm, bordering on too hot when I step under the stream, but I don’t adjust the temperature. The jets act like a hug around my aching body.

I spent all of last night trying to remind myself of the reasons why I’d gotten with Tyler in college, but I came up empty. He was the star center and the popular guy around campus, and I was the impressionable girl who got overexcited when he showed even a little bit of interest in me. If I’m really honest with myself, I don’t think much has changed since I got with him. If anything, his absence from our relationship has only grown worse. I might’ve put up with it when I was eighteen, but at twenty-two, I’m increasingly convinced I’d be better off single. I thought we were forever, and each time we talked about the future, I interpreted his lukewarm responses as way more enthusiastic.

And that’s why I followed him to New York.

Squirting way too much shampoo into my hand, I begin massaging it through my hair, more strands coming away easily—my body’s response to stress.

I’ve clung on to whatever it is between us for so long that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be wanted. And that’s not me—that’s never been me.

These days, staying with Tyler is as much about proving to myself that I made the right decision in turning down a pro contract in London, playing in front of Super League crowds, as it is hoping that I haven’t been kidding myself all these years.

“Hey, babe. Have you got that massage bar you brought with you last time? My calf is aching like a bitch!” Jenna shouts from the other shower stall.

I drop my shoulders, remembering that I left it back on the bench. “In my gym bag!” I reply back.

It’s even down to things like this—concentrating so much on what’s going on with Tyler, like what he does on nights out that he doesn’t tell me about, that results in every aspect of my life and career coming a distant second to him. And not in the good way, like with my mom and dad.

My life shouldn’t revolve around a boy who doesn’t seem to be concerned about me at all.