Page 121 of Close Knit

I laugh and reply, “You’re still a winner, tangled yarn or not.”

She grins mischievously as I get up from the couch. I grab a towel and gently clean her up, then fetch a glass of water and a piece of her favorite chocolate. “Here you go,” I say.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes filled with gratitude as she takes a sip and nibbles on the chocolate.

When she’s done, she slides off the couch and gets down onto the floor. “Now let’s see if you can stay focused on untangling this yarn again,” she challenges, handing me the mess we made of her project. “Because I’m going to make it very difficult for you,” she adds, a playful glint in her eyes.

I can’t help but let out a groan, running a hand through my hair. “You know, this is really unfair,” I mutter, trying to mask the smirk tugging at my lips. “I have no control around you.”

She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Life’s not fair, grumpy,” she teases. Her voice softens as her fingers deftly unbuckle my belt and pull down my jeans. “But I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“All right, you win,” I concede. “But just know, you’re making it very hard to focus.”

She grins, her eyes locking onto mine. “Good,” she whispers. Her breath is warm against my skin. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

And with that, our night is far from over.

Chapter 35

Cameron

January13

Influencer Daphne Quinn Knits a New Narrative on Cyberbullying Awareness

“Hastings!”Coach yells, stopping me on my way out of the locker room. “Come into my office for a second.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys in the parking lot,” I call out to my defensive line.

“Don’t keep him for too long; he challenged me to aMortal Kombatbattle.” Omar tilts his head, pointing to me.

“It’ll be the quickest fifty pounds you ever lost.” I scoff before following Coach to his office. “Hey,” I say, sitting in the chair opposite his desk.

“That new play you collaborated on with Sven in practice today is exactly what Ivan and I have been looking for.” Coach shoots me a toothy smile. “Great job utilizing his strengths.”

I can only nod. “Trying to work with the team.”

We came up with the play last week by rewatching the Parkside City match together. As much as I’ve fucking hated sitting on the bench, at least now I can watch tapes and beobjective about my teammates instead of mentally rewinding each of my fuckups.

Today, we executed a new play together. Tamu pushed forward, with Omar and Ibrahim closing in. He flashed his left pinky upward—the signal we made up. Jung got into position, and Sven readied for backup. Following my lead, Sven intercepted the ball with a header, sending it to Jung, who navigated it to midfield.

Another good practice in the books.

“You’ve shown good initiative over the last two weeks. Team says you’ve been warming up with them, figuratively and literally.” He laughs. “How do you think it’s going?” He stares at me, tapping his fingers over his desk.

My insides twist. I’m realizing that this guy is just genuinely nice, however much his constant grin freaks me out.

I suck in a breath, knowing my two-word answers and grunts won’t cut it anymore. “Good. Being benched reminded me what I have to lose—not just my place on this team, but my love for the game.”

Coach stands, leans over his desk, and clasps his hand on my shoulder. “There it is. The Hastings spark I glimpsed when you played in LA. That’s how I know you’re ready to start against Riverton tomorrow.”

I clench my fist.Fuck yeah. “I won’t let the club down.” I stand to shake his hand, but then he gives me a cocky grin and holds up his other arm like he wants to hug me.

Oh, what the hell?

I hug my coach for the first time since that last championship game in LA. “I’m proud of you, Cameron.”

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” I say, pulling away.

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