Emily nodded, but stayed silent.
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"Oh yeah! We had a wonderful morning.
I'll let Kinsley fill you in though," Becca said as she pushed up off the ground with Emily so they could head into the field house after the seniors.
"Kinsley, why the hell are you letting her treat you like this? I'm taking this to Coach Davis."
The last sentence spurred me into action.
"She knows," I began, but I could hardly get the words out through the emotion building behind my eyes. I was in way over my head and I couldn't see which way was up anymore.
Liam nodded, slowly grasping the seriousness of the situation. His hand reached down for mine so that he could help me up 453/890
just as Coach Davis pulled into her parking spot. She hopped out of her car and eyed us warily for a moment before heading inside.
Just fucking great. Her suspicion was the last thing we needed.
"I've got to go to practice. We'll talk later," I promised, turning on my heel and running inside before he could say anything else.
Our relationship was poison for my career. The media would spin us into whatever sold the most magazines and “happy soccer couple” wouldn’t sell shit compared to a soccer bad boy going after a naïve girl that he was supposed to be coaching at the time.
We were royally screwed.
…
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Liam: Is everything okay? Can you meet me tomorrow before practice? Call me.
"You're going to talk to him, right?"
Becca asked after having read the text over my shoulder. We were in my room later that night trying to come up with a plan on how to handle Tara.
"Yes. Of course. I just need to think about it for a second. If I go to Coach Davis myself she'll pull Tara into the office and Tara will throw Liam and me under the bus.
But if I tell Liam, maybe he'll have a better plan?" I chewed on my bottom lip like I'd been doing all afternoon.
"I think you should tell Liam because he has the right to know about what’s going on."
"Yes, god, I know that. I just don't want to get him involved if I don't have to. He has 455/890
enough on his plate without adding this, too."
"What about you?" Becca pointed out.
"You have just as much on your plate.” She had a point, but then I glanced at my clock. 11:00 P.M. Too late for a phone call considering I had practice at 6:00 A.M. the next day, right? That's what I told myself.
Kinsley: Yes, but we shouldn't meet before practice. Don't want to be suspicious.
Liam: What about after?
Kinsley: I have that interview.
He didn’t bother texting back. A moment later, his number illuminated my screen and I panicked. I swiped my finger across the screen and flew into my closet, shutting the door behind me. I felt like a secret agent. Albeit a very amateur one.
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"Hello?" I asked, not even bothering to turn the closet light on.
"Kinsley, tell me what's going on. How did Tara find out?" He sounded tired.
I sank down onto the carpet and pushed back behind the clothes so that they fell in front of me like a curtain.
"She and a few other people saw us go into your room at one of your parties and she said it was clear we'd just had sex. Coach Davis told me to stay away from you and I didn't listen."
Liam didn't speak right away. I could hear his steady breathing and then he finally groaned. "I've dealt with assholes before, but she's cunning."
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"Yeah, well you can tell her how ‘cunning’ she is when we're both kicked off our teams."
"I won't let that happen, Kinsley. Tara is the not the end-all be-all. She can’t do shit to me, and I won’t let her touch your career.
Let's just cover our bases at practice. Act normal and try to deal with Tara's shit for a few more days. I'll get everything figured out."
I nodded in the darkness.
“Sounds good, Coach.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry our relationship is such a fucked-up mess.”
“Hey! It’s our fucked-up mess, okay?” I joked.
“Do you remember when I asked if you regretted us?” he asked.
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I smiled at the memory. “Yes. I said I’d let you know in a few weeks.”
“Have you made your mind up?” Of course, I’d made up my mind. I didn’t regret us for a single moment— not even when my hand had slipped into some ques-tionable fluids in the field house bathroom that morning.
“Nah. I think I need a few more weeks to think about it still.”
“You’re just stringing me along, Kins.” I laughed. “Gotta keep you on your toes.” Then I thought of something that had been bothering me all day.
“You know, I don’t really understand what Tara has to gain from all of this. I’d understand if I was vying for her position or 459/890
something, but I’m not. She made Emily cry today.”
He sighed. “She hit on me last year at a party. Well, she did it a few times, but she finally came straight out and laid her invitation on the table. Obviously, I turned her down. I don't know if she's still pissed about that or not."
"Ew. Ew. Ew. I do not want to picture you and Tara together."
"There was no together.”
“She’s like the villain in a Disney movie.” He laughed. “Worse.”
I smiled for the fiftieth time since I’d answered his phone call, which brought my grand total of smiles for the day to fifty-one, because I was smiling then thinking about smiling.
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"Can we talk about something else before I go to bed? I don't want to dream about her."
"My mom is visiting in a few weeks," he said.
"Oh really? Where does she live?"
"England. My dad relocated for work when I was young.”
“Ah.”
“She is coming in for one of my games.
I'd like you to meet her."
I sucked in a breath of air. "Oh god, that was your way of calming me down before bed? Casually dropping the fact that I'll have to impress your mom in a few weeks?" I laughed.
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"My mom is awesome and laid-back.
You don't have to earn her approval. You'll already have it if I like you."
"Ooohh, so you like, like me?"
"I like you, like you."
"Do you like me more than M&Ms?"
"How do you know I like M&Ms?"
I laughed, thinking back to the drive-in movie. "Last night you inhaled the entire bag before I could even take some."
He chuckled into the phone. "Ah, my M&M blinders were on. Excuse my poor manners."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Kinsley, I've never liked any girl more than I like M&Ms."
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I laughed and let my head fall back against the wall. "Am I getting close?" I joked.
"I'd say I like you more than regular M&Ms, but you're going to have to really step it up if you want to beat out peanut M&Ms."
"I have a tough road ahead of me."
"I think you can do it," he joked, and I smiled against the phone.
"Challenge accepted."
Chapter Seventeen
The coffee shop was crowded when I arrived for my interview with Brian King the next day. I ran my hand down the front of my pencil skirt and tried to appear confident as I traversed the table looking for a smile that was bright enough to catch my reflection.
Brian King would be attached to it.
Becca had helped me pick out the perfect outfit. I was wearing a pretty silk blouse tucked into a modest skirt that was tight but fell just above my knee. My kitten heels clapped against the hardwood floor until I came to a stop in the back of the coffee shop.