Page 81 of The Penalty

“Yeah, well, figure United won’t win the league anytime soon so I’ll let you have this one.”

“Arrogant bastard. Just for that, I’m gunning for you this season. Mark my words. Back of the net every time.”

We started walking toward the strength and conditioning room.

“Back of the net. You know how often I hear that? More times than anyone’s actually scored on me.”

“I’ve scored on you,” he boasted. “Many times. You’re good, Maddox. But you’re not that good.” He paused. “You do have a killer left hook though.”

I laughed. “Been working on it since I was twelve.”

“Listen.” He stopped walking. “I shouldn’t have baited you like that, with the whole guaranteeing saves.” Zach studied me with caution. “We’re both hot-tempered assholes.”

Technically, he’s not wrong. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I say it to his face.

“Let’s leave it all on the pitch, yeah? Show me that so-called talent everyone keeps talking about.”

“I’ll do you one better,” he said with a smug smile. “I’ll show you what a great striker can do if you show me one decent save.”

We both laughed and went on our way.

The rest of the afternoon went much better than the morning. Even though most of us were rivals on the pitch, being around the guys and prepping for an international match together had a different energy.

After all the stress and anger and general unpleasantness from last night, this felt good. I felt more like myself. I loved this sport. Loved competing. Loved bonding with my teammates. Even the ones who got on my nerves.

This training facility was just as nice as our usual one near Birmingham. World-class, actually. The complex sat on nearly one hundred acres. It was lush and private and just what I needed to get focused. Ashton wanted us to stay closer to London for this trip. I wasn’t complaining. Plus, we all had rooms in the hotel on the private campus tonight.

My improved mood carried me through dinner. Cade invited a bunch of us to his room to watch a movie before curfew. I went for a little while and excused myself early to hopefully get some time with Victoria. We haven’t spoken since last night and I couldn’t stop thinking about her all day.

I sent her a text before walking into my room.

Me: How’s Miami?

I kicked off my trainers, grabbed some water and stood by the window.

Tori: Hot and humid. How’s training?

Me: I’ve had better

Tori: Give me a sec. I’ll call you

I sat on the couch, phone in hand.

“Hey,” I answered after one ring. I heard muffled conversations in the background.

“Why have you had better?” This voice. It sounded even brighter and more soothing tonight. “Did someone score a little goal on you?”

“Maybe.”

“Poor boy. How will you survive the embarrassment?” I could hear her moving around, as though she were walking to a more private place to talk.

“Where are you?”

“Some fancy restaurant downtown.”

I heard heels clicking. She must be walking down a hallway. Then I heard a door shut. Was that a lock snapping into place?

“Did you just lock yourself in a vault?”

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