Page 88 of The Penalty

Cade’s reassuring words did nothing to soothe my bruised ego.

Four goals.

Four fucking goals.

Two of them grazed my fingertips. I should have been able to stop them.

“Whatever.”

“This face is too pretty to pout.” He squeezed my cheeks before we started walking around the pitch. “It’s only a friendly. And it’s not like we lost.”

“A draw isn’t a win, especially when I played like shit.” I stopped short of saying the rest of the squad lacked any passion or commitment to actually want to win the fucking match.

“Not our best performance for sure.” Cade remarked unfazed, waving to the England fans. His love of attention and adoration often drowned out the more practical matters of football. Admittedly, so did mine.

After shaking hands and acknowledging members of the opposing team, we went back toward the England fans. Some held signs and jerseys. Others waved flags or scarves. At one point, a group started chanting our names, making an X with their arms.

“Hear that? They bloody love us.” Cade nudged me with his elbow. “Too bad you’re not available anymore. Look at these girls. We could do some damage tonight.”

I followed his hungry stare. It took me a second to latch on to whatever unsuspecting girl caught his eye. A trio of pretty young women leaned over the barrier, clamoring for our attention. Two of them turned so we could see the last name Gallagher on their jerseys.

The star striker noticed. “Excuse me. My audience awaits.”

I shook my head, watching my friend run over to bask in their attention up close.

“Well played, Maddox.” Liam clapped me on the back. “We’ll tighten up and be more prepared for the Dutch next month.”

“You better.” I faced him while I walked backwards to where Cade stood. “I’m still waiting to see what all the fuss is about you.”

“I’ll show you when you come to Newcastle and we beat your ass in November.”

Liam was a talented defender but excelled more at talking shit than actually performing well. His laugh faded slightly when something in the stands distracted him. Probably another overeager fan.

When I rejoined Cade, I fake-smiled my way through a stretch of vapid flirting. These girls were just like all the rest, batting their lashes, fawning over us, trying to act demure and mysterious.

Yeah, there was a time I enjoyed all of this. I took advantage of it on some occasions. There’s a reason I have the reputation I do.

Not anymore.

But Cade ate it up.

“Would you ladies be interested in joining us and some of the other lads for a little post-match party?” He flashed the girls his trademark smile. “We rented a chateau for the night.”

“Will both of you be there?” a petite brunette asked, staring directly at me.

“Of course,” Cade answered, ruffling my hair. I almost pummeled him on the spot. “Xavier loves a good party.”

“So does my girlfriend.” My words came out in a glacial tone.

“She’s welcome to join the fun if she wants,” the brunette purred, wrapping an arm around her blonde friend.

Cade muttered something vulgar under his breath. He eyed the young women like he’d been served the most decadent food on earth. A few years ago, I’d be right in the mix with him. Most men would do anything for an opportunity like this. All we had to do was exist.

I turned away, scanning the crowd for Victoria or Bennet. Both had been suspiciously quiet. Victoria wasn’t her normal flirty self when we exchanged texts before the match started. And Bennet only texted to say he’d be watching with some league executives.

I noticed Liam chatting with someone by the barricade near the stands. Mild curiosity got the best of me. I stepped back to see who held his attention with such rapt enthusiasm.

Intense jealousy paralyzed me.

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