Page 89 of Hotshot

But Ella wasn’t in the mood to speak right now.

She wasn’t sure when she ever would be.

CHAPTER33

Three weeks later, Sloane walked into Salchester’s training ground, giving receptionist Beth a wave as she passed. Her feet knew the way to the locker room, but they curled in her sneakers as she walked, knowing they had to pass Ella’s office on the way. When Sloane did, she held her breath. Just as she had the previous three days, too.

Ella’s Bodum coffee mug was on her desk. Her jacket was on the back of her chair. But she wasn’t there.

Sloane picked up speed as she walked by, just in case Ella was in the bathroom and about to exit. She wanted to get to her peg, change, get out on the field and run off all her worries. As soon as she crossed those white lines, the rest of her life faded into the background. Some people meditated. Some did Tai chi. Sloane’s happy place, the one that kept her balanced, was the soccer field.

Or at least, it had been, until Jess showed up and shredded her life.

The international camp had gone okay, although her coach had noted how subdued she was. Sloane hadn’t told her why. However, Sloane had got assurances that if she kept progressing from her injury, she’d make the World Cup squad. Good news, at last. Now she knew what she had to do, she was up for the challenge. A bigger challenge, however, was getting Ella back on side.

She’d sent her a number of messages, but Ella had told her to give her some space. Sloane knew when to back away, she was good at that. She’d had practice with Jess. So she complied. But she’d been back from camp for a few days now. She’d given Ella weeks of space. Those hours and minutes had dripped all over each other. Surely space had an end date?

Sloane kicked herself for the photos of her and Jess saying goodbye after the friendly match, but that was all it was. Nat had dragged her into the English team’s locker room to meet a couple of the England girls, and Jess had been there. Somebody had snapped them hugging, saying a final goodbye. Jess had even wished her luck sorting things out with Ella. She’d told Sloane she might take some time out of relationships for a while.

How could she make Ella see there was nothing going on? Soccer was a small world, and Sloane couldn’t avoid Jess forever. The World Cup was this year, and she had no doubt they’d see each other. She had to convince Ella it would mean nothing. Ella was intertwined with Sloane’s life now. When Sloane woke up, she was the first thing she thought of. How she missed waking up with Ella’s wild hair on the pillow next to her. She stared at the ring on her finger, the catalyst for their current standoff. She had to let Ella know she meant everything to her. That her relationship with Jess had taken place in another life. Now, she was just somebody that she used to know.

But even as she thought that, Sloane knew it wasn’t true. The reason she’d been so reluctant to let go of Jess was because, in the absence of blood family, Jesswasher family. She’d provided the first stable relationship in Sloane’s life. The first where she felt loved for who she was. That was hard to let go of. And perhaps, in some twisted way, when Jess treated her badly, she expected it. After all, it’s what family did.

Sloane sat on the locker room bench. She put her head in her hands. Her relationships with family and with Jess were fucked up. Her relationship with Ella hadn’t fared much better. She had to change that, and fast.

“You okay, Patts?”

Sloane looked up. Layla. She blew out a breath and jumped up. “Yeah, good. Just a bad night’s sleep.”

Layla stared at her. “That all?”

Sloane nodded. “Just want to get out there again.” She’d played one game for Salchester since she got back from international camp. She’d been slow to the ball, sluggish. The only way to remedy that was back out on the training field.

“Ready to slay like the queen you are?”

Sloane stood and nudged Layla with her elbow. “Don’t overdo it,” she replied with a smile.

“You look like you need cheering up.”

Sloane stripped off her trackpants and climbed into her shorts. “Let’s go kick some balls.”

Show time.

* * *

Sloane wasglad when the training session finished. She’d been off her game again. To make amends, she grabbed Becca, then placed the ball on the spot. She imagined a game situation as she always did. The roar of the crowd. The itch of anticipation on her skin. Then she went through her practice routine, one ball at a time. It was always that way, just like life. Live in the moment. Take each second as it came. Only, these kicks weren’t going in quite as planned. Twenty-seven out of fifty. She even missed the target eight times. Layla practised beside her, and she scored more than Sloane. Unprecedented.

“You feeling okay today? Or are you just saving yourself for when it matters?” Becca asked as they walked from the field.

Sloane shook her head. “Just one of those days.” Or one of those weeks. Perhaps the whole month.

When Sloane got into the training centre, she checked the time. If this was affecting her penalty taking as well, she had to sort it out. To catch Ella before her next session. She took off her boots, slipped on her white sliders, and wandered down the corridors to the offices. Lucy clocked her as she walked past, and frowned. Sloane glanced into Ella’s office. She was at her desk.

Sloane rapped on the door frame with her knuckles.

Ella looked up, and stopped whatever she was writing. Her face was as blank as a winter sea. She wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Can I come in?”

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