Page 33 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

For whatever reason, the crowd becomes stagnant. The fans keep screaming and cheering, and I can barely make out what they are saying. If it’s an autograph they want, I am sure whatever paper they have must be torn by now.

The push of the crowd makes me feel like my ribcage is about to be crushed, and I gasp for air as I struggle futilely to navigate my way.

Just then, a hand grips my wrist. I almost jumped in fright. I don’t need someone else to scare me more than I already am. But when I turn to see who it is, I become even more confused. It’s the new player whose corner kick Raphael commented on earlier.

Before I can say a word, he gently tugs at my wrist. “This way.”

Like Moses parting the Red Sea, a narrow path leading to a room appears before him. He starts walking, pulling me gently behind him, and soon enough, I find myself in what appears to be the male locker room.

I heave a sigh of relief and fall into a nearby chair, struggling to catch my breath.

I hadn’t thought about how awkward it would be to be pulled into the male locker room until I raised my head. The players are throwing sideways glances at me, and embarrassment churns within my stomach.

I think of saying hello to them but then figure that my voice would likely sound like that of a toad. That isn’t likely to help with the embarrassment I already feel inside. Instead, I turn to my helper.

“Thank you.”

My helper is still standing, his gaze fixed on me, and this is when I study his features. His chiseled jaw curves upward into a smile. “Don’t mention it. It’s hard not to help a beautiful damsel in distress.” He sits down beside me. He says almost in a whisper, “And yes, I know ‘beautiful’ and ‘damsel’ sort of mean the same thing, but I figure that’s the only way to do you justice.”

Corny.

But I still can’t help but smile as his amber eyes beam at me. It must be because of how cute his eyes are.

“What’s your name, beautiful damsel?”

“Rachel,” I introduce, extending my hand. He grabs my hand and shakes it. “Collins.”

Gosh. He has a perfect set of white teeth, too.

“I might have been stomped to death if it wasn’t for your timely intervention.”

He appears to muse for a while. “Seems so. That means we can do ‘knight in shining armor’ instead of Collins, then.”

We share a laugh, and I also catch a smile on one of the players’ faces. He’s as handsome as he’s funny, and judging from the fact that he helped me, he must be kind as well. Is there anything else a woman could want?

“Hey there, Rachel. We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?” I hear Raphael’s voice from the entrance, and I turn my head. Standing beside him is Vaughn, his shirt slung over his shoulder. A deep scowl is etched on his face, and his well-sculpted body is glistening with sweat.

Sweet Jesus.

He looks like a god as he stands there. I gasp lightly before quickly averting my gaze to avoid embarrassing myself.

I force a smile at Raphael. “I am fine, thanks.”

I maintain the smile on my face as I look back at Collins, my mind blank. The only dominating thought in my mind at this point is that of time with Vaughn in his study.

Idiot!

I feel my face flush with embarrassment and annoyance. How dare his mere presence have such an effect on me? Is it because he’s shirtless? I have seen him shirtless countless times, so why?

Why does he get me feeling this way, even in the presence of a great guy like Collins?

From the look in Collins’s eyes, I can tell he senses something is off, as there isn’t much warmth in the smile he returns.

Chapter fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Vaughn

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