Page 23 of Play Hard

The ball soared from Heather’s foot straight to Liam. He steadied it with a single touch, then took off, dribbling down the line again. When he saw an opponent approach, he passed to Colin and kept going. Colin ripped it back to him, and Liam was free to streak forward for ten yards, then more, until the Barrowfield right back was actually chasing him.

He’d beaten his opponent, but not by enough. To get by him and send in a cross in front of the goal, Liam needed just a bit…more…speed.

You can do this. It’s weird but also wonderful, and you can do it.

But he was running out of room. Near the end of the pitch, Liam stopped abruptly, keeping control of the ball, and doubled back two steps. The fullback followed. Liam changed direction again, going forward. Now there was room.

He planted his right foot and slammed the ball with the instep of his left, sending in the best cross he could muster. It sailed to the far post, where Shona appeared, her sweep of violet-and-blond hair gleaming in the sunlight.

Liam didn’t see Shona’s head hit the ball, but he saw the back of the net bend beneath the force of her strike.

“Yaaaaaasssss!” How odd it felt to be running from the side of the pitch to join a goal celebration. How even odder to be the one getting that special ”assister embrace” from the goal scorer.

“Brilliant cross, mate!” Shona hugged him hard.

“Beginner’s luck?” he gasped.

“I don’t care. Fucking hell, that was perfect.“ She turned to the bench and raised her fist to Katie, who was standing on one foot and waving her bright-blue ice pack.

The next minute went by in a blur, as every Warrior got in on the celebration. Then play kicked off again, but the whistle blew only seconds later, sealing the 1-1 result.

Liam took care to share handshakes or back pats with every Barrowfield player, who all looked dejected at having victory snatched from their grasp at the last instant.

The Barrowfield captain clapped his hands. “That was a precious away point, lads!” he shouted to buck up his team. “Could save our season.” He was right: A draw away from home to the Warriors, one of the division’s top teams, was not to be sneezed at.

“Still, beaten by a lassie,” Liam heard Mitchell mutter. “Cannae fucking believe it.”

Liam opened his mouth to say, “Guess they’re not so fragile after all, aye?” but Robert grabbed him before he could get the words out.

“Well done, mate.” Robert slung an arm over Liam’s shoulders, leaning heavily upon him. “Fuck, I’m shattered.”

Liam reached around his waist to support him. “You all right?”

“Aye, just…” Robert was clearly struggling to catch his breath. “Think maybe I could come running with you and Fergus Thursday morning?” He panted a couple of times. “I know that’s the only time you guys get to hang out, but—”

“Of course you can join us,” Liam said, “but what about your fancy Merchant City gym? Is it closed?”

“No.” Robert stopped and lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe the heavy sheen of sweat from his face. “I’m in the kind of shit shape that only friends can cure.”

“Gonnae no worry, we’ll run your arse into the ground until you beg us to stop.” He squeezed Robert’s ribs. “But right now, we need to see to those knickers.”

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