For the Win (10 page)

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” she responded before walking away with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey, Lukas!” Gabe waited for her to turn around. When she did, he gave her his most seductive smile. “So you were starting to think I'm great, huh?”

“Argh!” She threw her arms up in the air and spun around.

Gabe chuckled as he watched her flounce toward the parking lot. He probably shouldn't enjoy teasing her as much as he did, but something about the woman sent his competitive streak into overdrive. Whether she knew it or not, Lainey Lukas was in for the challenge of her life tomorrow.

TWENTY-SIX MINUTES AND
thirty-four seconds. That's how long Lainey lasted with the rowdy youngsters, Gabe noted gleefully after checking his watch. She walked over to the far byline where Gabe and Johnny were calling out instructions, with a small girl wearing a crown of dandelions clutched tightly around her neck.

“Giving up already, Lukas?”

“Tears! You never said anything about tears,” she said, rubbing the crying child's back, which only seemed to make her wail harder.

“What's the matter, Ava?”

The girl sniffed and rubbed her nose on the shoulder of Lainey's long-sleeve white shirt. “Mason says princesses can't play soccer.”

Gabe pulled the girl from Lainey's arms and looked her in the eyes. “Well, Mason is wrong,” he said solemnly. “Princesses can do anything they like. That's the fun of being a princess.”

“So I can do cartwheels instead of playing soccer if I want to?” she asked, earnestness bursting from her big brown eyes.

“Absolutely,” Gabe said, lowering the girl to the ground. “In fact, I'll come do some with you in a few minutes. Go on. I'll be right behind you.”

She took off like a bullet. “Maaaaaasooooon! I told you soooooooo!”

Gabe smiled glibly at Lainey. “See, I—”

“If you say ‘I told you so,' I'm going to junk punch you,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“I was going to say I don't think you should feel bad about failing so spectacularly with the misfits. You're an amazing coach with the kids who are motivated to learn.” She raised her eyebrows. “Fine, I was going to say I told you so. But I still think you're doing a good job.”

Not that he was going to admit it to her, but a couple of the kids in his new group whined about not having Lainey coaching them that morning. Then again, she could be lobbing rocks at the kids and he'd still be thrilled she was here. Tessa was so happy to work with Lainey that she'd actually talked with him on the ride home last night, instead of giving him her usual silent treatment. Heck, for that gift, he would've hugged Lainey and kissed her smack on the mouth if he didn't think she'd actually junk punch him for it.

Instead of acting on his impulses, he reassigned Lainey to work with Johnny and the advanced kids for the rest of the week. At the end of each day, Gabe dutifully cleaned Lainey's cleats while she worked with Tessa to perfect her diving header. He made sure to be on his best behavior, and by the end of the week, he and Lainey had managed to achieve a high level of civility in all their interactions. No more tantrums, no more arguments, no more name-calling. He appreciated that she didn't seem to be holding on to quite as much disdain for him as before, yet it was all very . . . dull. He wanted more than just benign tolerance from her. He wanted to feel that spark ignited between them again. Unfortunately, there was only one way to do it.

He was going to have to piss her off in a major way.

10

What's my secret for scoring so many goals? You need to get inside the goalkeeper's head. Just when she thinks you're going to go left, make her doubt herself and wonder if you're going right. And then blast the ball into the net before she has a chance to make up her mind.

—
Lainey Lukas's advice to the Seattle Lil' Kickers Recreational Soccer league players (six-and-under division)

IT HAD BEEN ONE
of the best weeks of Lainey's life. Working with the kids and all their unbridled energy had reinvigorated her. Each kid was given a participation ribbon at the end of the week. Lainey couldn't imagine being happy with a ribbon that didn't have a big, gleaming “1st
”
emblazoned on it, but these kids seemed to be thrilled with any sort of recognition. It was infectious. She didn't remember the last time she wasn't focused on winning or on pushing her limits to the extreme. But just following Gabe's motto of making sure the kids had the best week of their lives was in itself a great reward.

Lainey waved good-bye to Tessa, who was earning another twenty bucks for dragging the ball bags to Gabe's van. As with every other day that week, Gabe was sitting alone on the bleachers long after everyone else had gone home. She rubbed her arms, telling herself the frisson she felt was from the gray clouds creeping over the horizon and the threatening rain, not from the man who'd cleaned the mud from her cleats and was currently wiping them down with polish.

Gabe held up the gleaming black leather shoes for approval as she approached. “You surprised me with how well you did with the kids this week.”

“Well . . . thank you,” Lainey said tentatively as soft droplets of rain made their escape from the clouds. “I'm willing to admit that you were right. Having fun can be just as important as winning. And thanks again for cleaning my cleats. You really didn't have to.” She'd had no intention of holding him to that bet, seeing as the Falcons didn't exactly win the cook-off, thanks to her aunt and his mother. But who was she to say no to the luxury of watching Gabe Havelak act like her servant?

“Of course I did. The bet was whoever lost the cook-off has to pay up.” The gleam in his eye and mischievous grin set Lainey on edge. While they'd been cordial to each other all week, he was being a little too nice for comfort right now.

“I'll just take those from you now. It's getting late.” She reached a hand out for her shoes.

Gabe grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against his body. She looked into his hungry blue eyes and gulped. He licked his thick, lush lips. Her skin felt scorching hot, as though each drop of rain sizzled as it connected.

“Like I said, we made a deal that whoever loses has to pay up,” he said in a hushed, seductive voice that even someone as inexperienced as Lainey knew meant he had sex on the brain. A tingling, surreal warmth wrapped itself around her lungs, tightening until she felt like she was imploding. “And technically, we both lost.”

Before Lainey had time to react, he slipped his hand along her nape and brushed his lips against hers.

His lips were soft and warm, and he smelled irresistibly good. That was the only excuse she had for allowing him to deepen the kiss and run his hand down her back until his fingers were grazing the top of her butt. When his tongue delved past her lips, she came to her senses and pulled back, still caught in his embrace.

She tried to raise her wrist, but he caught it instantly. “Don't even dream of slapping me, sweetheart. You enjoyed that just as much as I did,” he said with a dreamy expression that suggested he wouldn't be opposed to another round.

“Fine.” She twisted her wrist to pinch the ticklish spot on the side of his waist. Considering the man had the chiseled body of a Greek statue, it was quite the feat.

He yelped and let her go, but kept the smile on his face. Lainey grabbed her cleats and stuffed them into her soccer bag. She stormed off toward the adjacent lot where she'd parked her piece of shit '98 Civic, pretending all the while that her legs hadn't melted away from the heat of their kiss.

“So I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight for the charity dinner?” he called out to her just as she slipped her key into the driver's-side door.

She rolled her eyes and watched him amble over to his van, where Tessa was waiting. “I'll meet you there.”

“It's a date!” he called back.

“It's not a—” she called back, but Gabe had already jumped into his van and pulled out of the stall. “Date.” Nope, not a date. Not at all.

11

What's my beauty routine? Scoring goals so breathtakingly gorgeous that no one gives a shit what I look like.

—
Lainey Lukas, quoted in
Sport Fitness Magazine

LAINEY LOATHED ASKING ANYONE
for help, but she nevertheless found herself typing those very words into her phone. With a deep breath, she hit the send button. And then waited.

Twenty-five minutes later, a demanding knock rapped at her thin plywood door. “Open up. Your fairy slut-mother is here!”

Lainey unlocked the dead bolt and swung open her door before Jaime could say anything else that would further degrade her reputation with her nosy neighbors.

Jaime was standing there with her hip cocked, a smirk on her face, and a bunch of garment bags tucked under her arm. “Nice outfit. Why don't you just wear that?” she said, pointing to the ratty blue bathrobe Lainey was wearing, complete with a white towel wrapped around her hair.

She thrust the bags at Lainey, marched straight into the kitchen, and pulled open the fridge door. “No coolers? I told you I work much better after a drink or two.”

“Let's just get this over with,” Lainey said, slumping onto the couch. She really hoped she wouldn't regret this. The charity gala was in an hour, and she had nothing to wear. She usually borrowed clothes from Aunt Marnie when she needed to look respectable, but none of her aunt's short-sleeve floral polyester dresses were appropriate for a formal gala.

“Did you at least remember to shave your armpits?” Jaime asked, crossing her arms and looking down at Lainey with doubt.

“I asked you for help getting dressed, not with my personal grooming habits.”

“Fine,” Jaime said. “I'll take that as a no. Let's see if I brought anything befitting the style of hairy-ape chic.”

Lainey threw her arms up in frustration. “Of course I shaved my armpits! And everything else, for that matter.”

“Good, try this on,” Jaime said, unfazed. She unzipped one of the navy bags and revealed a slinky black dress with a V-neck cut down to there.

“I might as well go naked.”

“Just try it on. The straps might be a bit loose on you, but it'll look great,” Jaime insisted. With a sigh, Lainey stepped into her bedroom and pulled the dress on. It was made out of a deliciously soft material with black jewels embroidered along the neckline, giving it a subtle touch of sparkle. It was the most luxurious and beautiful item of clothing Lainey had ever put on—with the exception of her first Team USA jersey. The hem hit at mid-thigh, which was shorter than Lainey was comfortable with, but she didn't mind showing off her legs. She'd worked damn hard for them. The fact that the dress exposed almost the entirety of her chest was the real problem.

“See, I told you it would look ridiculous on me,” Lainey said as she stepped back into the living room, feeling like an insecure twelve-year-old playing dress up.

Jaime whistled. “Here's the thing, Lukas. On me, the dress looks trashy, and that's just how I like it. But you have no boobs. It's all sternum, and sternum is classy. You're wearing it, so stop arguing. Now sit. I need to do your hair before it dries.”

Lainey parked herself back on the couch and let Jaime work her magic.

“I'm going to put a simple braid across your forehead and leave the rest down. That way, it won't be a big mess the next morning if you don't have time to take it out before falling into bed,” Jaime said with a wink.

“I'm not going to sleep with Gabe. I just want to make him crazy. Fight fire with fire,” Lainey said, resigning herself to the fact that she'd just put herself entirely in Jaime's hands. Against her better instincts, she'd told Jaime about the kiss the day before and her theory that Gabe was trying to throw her off her game by seducing her.

“Has it still not occurred to you that he's genuinely interested? You're smart, you're successful, and you're gorgeous.”

Lainey tilted her head to look at Jaime. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Jaime harrumphed and retilted Lainey's head downward to finish the braid. “Because we're friends, dumbass. That's what friends do.”

“We are?” Lainey hadn't meant to say that out loud, but she was so shocked that Jaime, one of her fiercest rivals at the World Cup last year, considered them to be friends.

“Of course. We're a team, and that means we stick together no matter what. Okay, your hair is done, and it looks awesome, if I do say so myself. I'm going to start on your eye shadow while you tell me all the details about that kiss. Was it good? Did he slip you the tongue?”

“It wasn't a real kiss. He was just trying to unsettle me. The only thing he cares about is winning the competition so he can avoid some stupid, fictitious curse. He doesn't care that our entire franchise is facing the real risk of collapse.” Lainey sighed, sinking back into the memory of Gabe's hard body and soft lips. “But yes, it was a very good kiss.”

“It doesn't matter what his intentions are. If you're attracted to him, why not just get your rocks off? It would do you some good to loosen up, make you a bit more relatable, you know? Now look up.”

Lainey glanced at the ceiling and tried not to blink while Jaime brushed mascara onto her lashes. “I don't need any more distractions. Our team is struggling and I'm failing as captain.”

“Dude, our team kicks ass, and you're not failing. A good captain leads by example, and you work harder than anyone else I've ever known. It's inspiring.” Jaime paused and bit her lip, as though something was on the tip of her tongue. Lainey raised her eyebrows, encouraging her to continue. “Sometimes you're too good. We've all busted our asses to get to this level, but you're in a class by yourself. No one has the discipline you do, so the rest of us figure, why bother trying? If you slipped up once in a while, or acted more like a human than a robot, then maybe we could rise to your level. Right now it's like you're untouchable. Dumping that drink on Havelak's head was the best thing you ever did as captain. Haven't you noticed how much our team has gelled since then?”

“Maybe you're right,” Lainey said noncommittally. She wasn't sure what to think. Her strict discipline and unwavering determination made her what she was. If she deviated now, everything could fall apart. Who knew what would happen if she started to slack off, even just a little bit? Maybe just one sliver of temptation would cause her willpower to crumble away, and she'd end up as a beer-bellied couch potato spending her waking hours watching reality TV reruns. No, she couldn't risk that. Until the season was over, her eyes were strictly on the prize she'd been working toward her whole life.

“Of course I'm right. And you're done. Off you go!” Jaime slapped a clutch into her hand, then scooted her up from the couch and out the door before Lainey had the chance to look at herself in the mirror.

Jaime followed her to the street, where Lainey's car was parked. As Lainey was getting into the Civic, Jaime said, “And remember to have fun! F-U—”

“I know how to spell!” Lainey called back through her open window as she turned on the engine.

“Fine! We'll just leave it at F-U, then!” Jaime waved her off and stuck out her tongue.

LAINEY GLANCED AT HERSELF
in the rearview mirror. Just as she expected, she looked like a high-class hooker with that heavy black shadow encircling her eyes. She had to admit, though, the smoky look was kind of pretty and made her normally dull brown eyes stand out. Still, she found herself unable to get out of the car until she grabbed the oversize cardigan she kept in the backseat and threw it over her dress. Feeling a touch more confident, she headed to the glass doors of the museum where the gala was being held.

Gabe was waiting for her just inside the foyer. His smile lit a tiny spark inside her, and she couldn't help but give a shy smile back. Previously, she'd believed the man was born to wear a soccer uniform, but she was wrong. He was definitely meant to wear a tuxedo. The dapper suit highlighted the broadness of his shoulders, teasing at the sculpture-perfect muscles hidden beneath the black material. Whereas Lainey used to think of him as cute and goofily charming, in a tux, Gabe was heart-stoppingly sexy.

“You look unbelievable,” he said, offering his arm. For a brief second, Lainey wondered if he chose an ambiguous compliment on purpose. “Stop doubting yourself; I can read it all over your face. You look unbelievably gorgeous.”

“Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself.” She took his arm and let him escort her to the registration table.

“Of course, only you could look so good while wearing something that makes it look like you upchucked your morning oatmeal all over yourself,” he said as they waited in line to register.

“The. Sweater. Stays. On,” she said in her most authoritative voice, pointing her finger at him for extra effect. He chuckled.

“Coat check, madam?” the registrant offered as they approached the skirted table.

“No, thank you,” Lainey replied politely.

The registrant gave her a smile so fake he could've passed for a wax figurine. “Please, madam. I insist. The event does have a strict dress code, after all.” He pushed a token at her.

Begrudgingly, Lainey stripped off the sweater and handed it to the registrant. She flashed a look at Gabe, intending to cut off any snide remarks at the pass, but he was standing in dumb silence with his mouth agape.

After a few beats, he managed to mouth “wow.” She straightened her shoulders and uncrossed her arms. Without even saying a word, Gabe managed to make her feel a little bit more confident in her near-naked state.

“Will you be making your donation to the Hearts and Hands Charity by cash or check tonight?”

“I'll be paying for our donation in cash tonight,” Gabe said.

Lainey cleared her throat and pulled a check from her clutch. “That's not necessary.” Lainey had too much dignity to let Gabe pay her way. She may not make so much as a fraction of his salary, but she could darn well afford to make a charitable donation. Besides, she really didn't want to give him the impression this was anything other than a mandated publicity appearance. To his credit, he backed off with an easy smile.

Lainey grabbed a pen and wrote in $200.

“Ahem. I'm sure you're aware the minimum donation is $500,” the registrant added coolly.

“Of course,” Lainey replied, knowing full well that a mottled flush was spreading across her cheeks and neck. Since the stupid clutch Jaime insisted she bring was so tiny, Lainey had only brought the single check and left the rest of her checkbook at home. With a trembling hand, she added an extra zero.

Two thousand dollars.

What the hell had she just done? That was two months' rent. By the time she signed her name and slid the check over to the registrant, delirium had set in. She'd adjusted her budget to afford the extra expense this month, but there was no way she could donate two thousand dollars without clearing out her entire bank account.

Damn her pride.

There was nothing she could do about it now. She used her visualization techniques to “park” her inevitable freak-out about the money for a later time. Right now, her focus needed to be entirely about getting through the gala without incident.

Gabe escorted her into the reception. Thick crowds of beautiful people were laughing and chatting in every corner of the room. Waiters were flitting about with trays of champagne and canapés. Iridescent chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling and were complemented by dazzling blue-light projections on the walls. Bright orange and yellow blown-glass centerpieces sat on each of the round tables. It was a scene that almost every little girl who fancied herself a princess grew up dreaming about. A scene that could trigger a panic attack in someone as shy and socially awkward as Lainey.

“You will not let your fear get the best of you. You will walk into this room and smile. You will strike up a conversation with strangers,” Lainey whispered to herself with her eyes clenched shut.

“Crowds make you nervous, huh?” Gabe asked her in an equally hushed voice.

Lainey opened one eye and nodded, continuing her rhythmic breathing and chanting. “Envision yourself smiling at people as you walk in the room. You will say witty things to people when they speak to you. You will not hide out in the bathroom for three hours faking a stomach bug.”

“How about I just promise not to leave your side for the entire evening?” Gabe slipped his hand around her waist, settling his grip possessively along her hip bone. The butterflies dancing in her stomach snapped Lainey out of her trance. “Better than having everyone assume you're in the midst of a schizophrenic episode.”

She nodded, grateful for his promise to stick close even if it meant blending personal space bubbles with him all night. Lainey could never seem to read the smile on Gabe's face. It was a weird mixture of gloating and sincerity that she didn't think was humanly possible, but there he was beaming it at her. Lainey couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to always project such unwavering confidence in oneself outside of a soccer field.