Page 58 of Snap

"It was before that," I admitted. "Before I knew who you were. You know the team isn't my thing?—"

He interrupted me. "So you bet against us?"

"At the time I thought I was betting against a team you were just a fan of," I argued.

"So this is my fault?" he snapped.

A flash of anger flared through me. "No. This had nothing to do with you."

"This is what I do for a living." His voice was low, soft, but furious. "I'd say betting against me winning the biggest game of my entire life is about me. You really hate the idea of being around us that much?"

I took a step back. "The team is your thing. My father's thing. Not mine. It's not what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"Have you told your father that?" he asked.

I slapped a hand to my forehead. "Fuck in a bucket, why didn't I think of that?" I lowered my hand. "I have. Repeatedly. It's his life's ambition to see me follow in his footsteps."

Ollie exhaled loudly. He took a few steps away from me, his expression guarded.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," I said. "It was just a silly bet. One my father was going to win anyway. Wasn't he?"

"I think you're missing the point," he said. "If we lose, your father will sell the team to fuck only knows who. If we win, we'll have an owner that doesn't give a shit about us. Do you know what that would do to morale?"

He paced a few steps away and back again. "You see how enthusiastic and passionate your father is. That pushes us harder and further."

"I'm not my father," I said coolly.

"That much is abundantly clear," he said coldly. "Look, I'm not expecting you to do cartwheels on the sidelines every game. But if your heart isn't in it…." He shook his head. "Maybe we'd be better off if we lost." He looked defeated.

"That is such shit," I snapped. "Knowing you has changed everything. If I take over the team, then we can see each other every day. Your enthusiasm, your passion is infectious." My breath made mist in the air.

"Even if the team isn't your thing?" he asked.

"I'm not too old to learn," I said quickly. After a moment of silence, I sighed. "You probably think what everyone else does. That I'm a spoiled brat."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Of course I don't. I think you're a strong woman who knows what you want. You don't want to deal with troublemakers, like Bam." He smiled slightly.

"I mean, you're not wrong," I said. "But as long as you're involved, then that's where I want to be."

He paused for approximately three hundred and twenty-two years. Then he shook his head slowly.

"My mother always said that love meant accepting the person for who they are, not changing them, not even trying to. I feel like if you took on the team, you'd be doing it to please me, and your father. The team deserves better than that."

"Your mother is wise," I said. He was right though, the team did deserve better.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I fully intend to do everything I can to make sure we win. After that…" He looked down at the pavement.

"Are you saying I shouldn't honour my side of the bet?" I buried my hands in my pockets and shivered. Only part of it was from the cold. The rest was from the expression on his face.

"I'm saying you probably shouldn't make any life decisions based on a bet." He looked up at me.

"Is that wisdom from your mother too?" I wondered what it would be like to have a close relationship with my mother, like he seemed to with his. I envied him that.

He smiled faintly. "No, that was all me."

"They do say the center is the smartest guy on the field," I pointed out.

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