Page 36 of Dangerous Play

The ball flew in one straight line, landing in the left corner, missing the goalie’s hand by mere inches.

Suddenly, my teammates collided with me and jumped on top of me, their happy shouts echoing in my ear.

It wasn’t a win, but at least we didn’t lose.

A tie was better than losing.

Hell, anything was better than losing.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should have taken the first chance I got to score. Then we would be winners.

“Hey, Captain.” Ivy knocked on my bedroom door and walked in before I could reply. “Why the sour face? You played well.”

Her green eyes glimmered with concern as she took me in, while I drank in her outfit and had to swallow hard when I noticed that she wasn’t wearing jeans. She was wearing jean shorts that molded onto her hips and ass like a second skin. She was wearing a jersey with my name on it.

The sigh of her in my jersey, my name and my number made the ache in my chest deepen, but I quickly reminded myself it wasn’tmine. Just like she wasn’tmine.

“Did I take the post too far?” she asked, concern lacing her words as she lifted her phone.

I shook my head again. Her post of the team jumping on me and hugging me, and the picture of me shooting the goal shot were amazing. Her sweet caption praising my talent was heartwarming.

But nothing eased the disappointment brewing in my chest.

I let the team down. My team. The one I was responsible of.

“Max?” Ivy asked, stepping closer.

“Sorry,” I groaned. “I wasn’t in the mood to party.”

“You guys tied, it was a great game,” she tried again, her voice thinner than before. “You played well.”

I looked up at her, and whatever she saw in my tortured gaze made her close the distance between us.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she whispered, her hand landing on my shoulder.

The weight of her hand got me curving my shoulders inwards, and I let my head hang again.

“You don’t get it,” I muttered. “I should have shot the first goal instead of giving it to Derek. I made a bad decision and it cost us the win.”

“Titans lose as a team and win as a team,” she reminded me, and I let out a tortuous laugh.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean I can’t give myself feedback.”

“You are beating yourself up,” she said, her voice suddenly harder. “Everyone makes mistakes, it’s what makes us human. You made the best decision you could with the limited information you’ve got on the field. You placed your trust in your teammate. It doesn’t make you a bad leader, Max. Not even a failure. It makes you a team player.”

I let out a shaky breath, emotions running high in me since the game. I was a perfectionist, and I held myself to an impossible standard.

Today, I messed up.

“I’m just… hard on myself,” I muttered the lamest excuse. “Sorry… you probably want to party. Let me get my shit together, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Ivy sat beside me on the bed. “If you don’t want to party, we can stay here. Watch a movie. You don’t seem in the mood to talk.”

A shake of my head was the only response I gave her before I picked up the remote control and handed it to her. “You pick.”

I moved all the way up on my bed, propping the pillows up for both of us and leaned against it. I was still wearing my faded blue jeans and a Titan’s hoodie that I threw on after showering earlier.

Ivy followed my initiative and positioned herself next to me, her gaze fixed on the TV.

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