Page 80 of The Hellion and the Captain
A small smile danced on her lips as she stared at him.
“Us?”
“Yes,” he affirmed, his lips pressed together in determination. “Your fight is mine. You don’t take anything on alone any longer. Even if you do, I’ll be right there behind you.”
She nodded, looping her arms around his neck as she stared at him.
“I started playing with Manchester Central only because I wanted to find a place to play football, with those who could challenge me. But now I know how much the FA Cup means to you, Rhys. I will do everything in my power to help you win it. Whether that means taking the field and giving it my all or stepping down if the need for it arises.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t,” he said in a low voice. “I need you on that field, Emmaline. As yourself, and as Emmett. I needyouforyour support, and Emmett to help us win. Felix was right. You helped bring us together this season. You keep us all together and working toward a common goal.”
“That is very kind, Rhys, but?—”
“It’s true,” he interjected, sitting up. “I would never lie to you.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” she said, noting that darkness was already approaching. Between her family’s suspicions about her and now the ill-fated meeting with the Manchester Central Club committee her parents were bound to have heard about, she would be more closely scrutinized than before. “That is why I trust you, why I know that you will always have my best interests at heart. But you need to look after yourself, too.”
He nodded understandingly, stroking his hand over her cheek before kissing her forehead. She loved the affection he showed her, this man she never thought would show his feelings with touch.
“We will also find a way to make your women’s football club a reality,” he said. “Ipromise you that.”
She shrugged as she smiled sadly, not wanting to allow any more hope to rise within her at the thought, for she knew she might have to give up that dream at some point.
She focused on another instead.
“I cannot wait until we can be together for more than these stolen moments,” she said, her smile for him growing.
“Nor I,” he said, pulling her in close. “Now, let’s go win ourselves a Cup and get you a women’s football club.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rhys exhaled a huge breath as he stared at the stands around him.
They were in Pomona Park, which both his club and the Athletics called home on game days, although they played as the home team today.
The pale blue of the Athletics and Manchester Central’s own maroon patterned the stands in a mix of color punctuated by black cloaks, but with the warming air, many had paid their team homage by dressing in their colors. Rhys waved a hand to the one section of the crowd that was more solidly maroon, eliciting a cheer from those who stared back at him.
This was it. All he had worked for. He had thought that Emmaline would be a distraction on the team — even if it were to no one but himself. But here they were, further than they had gone last year, with Emmaline a key aspect of their roster.
So much rode on this game. The Cup, yes, but also knowing what—or rather, who—waited for him on the other side was like a reward.
He could only hope that no one would stand in his way.
Rhys watched his team take their positions, his heart pounding with anticipation. Emmaline, disguised as Emmett, stood ready at the midfield line. Despite her more diminutive stature compared to the men, she exuded an aura of fierce determination that Rhys couldn’t help but admire.
After Rhys lost the coin toss, which didn’t concern him for he had lost a fair amount in the past and still won the game, the Athletics took first possession of the ball and charged forward. Their burly forwards muscled past Manchester Central’s defenders, but Rhys’s men held strong, refusing to yield. The ball flew back and forth across the pitch as the two closely matched teams battled for dominance.
Rhys shouted encouragement and directives as he ran with them, playing his own game, analyzing every move. When the ball came to him, he sent it across the field to Emmaline, who wove nimbly between the opposing players, her footwork quick and precise. She passed the ball to Felix, who made a valiant attempt on goal, only to be blocked at the last second by the Athletics’ keeper.
The first half continued in a stalemate, as neither side could gain the upper hand. Rhys tried to breathe deeply as his frustration grew, knowing they needed to score soon.
With a few minutes to go in the half, Victor Reeves, who had been relatively quiet until now, barreled straight for Emmaline, a vicious glint in his eye. Rhys’s heart seized with fear, but Emmaline pivoted gracefully out of harm’s way at the last second, causing Victor to stumble and fall.
The Manchester Central followers erupted into cheers at her display of skill. Rhys couldn’t suppress his proud grin. That was the Emmaline he knew out there, showing to all watching what she could do, even if she couldn’t tell them who she truly was. He caught her eye across the field, and they exchanged a brief nod of understanding.
The Athletics countered quickly. Victor received the balland charged up the field. Rhys tracked his movement, anticipating a pass. But instead, Victor ran straight towards Emmaline. Rhys’s heart seized as Victor slammed into her with unnecessary force, sending her sprawling to the ground.
“Foul!” Rhys bellowed, but the umpire waved play on.
