Page 35 of Wild Pucker

"CHASE IS YOUR PICK. HE'S GOT A BIGGER… "

I chuckle at the last one. Though I've never seen either of my dates’ equipment, I have heard, via women on the internet who love to overshare, that Chase is well endowed.

A few players are kicking balls around on the field for warm-ups. Sam and I wave to the fans and Holly motions for us to head out onto the pitch when an FC player in red jogs over. I recognize him from interviews with reporters. He's the team captain, Joe Alaric, and he has the most beautiful brown skin I've ever seen.

"Hey guys," he says with a thick British accent. Joe came to Toronto after playing Premiere League in the UK. "Glad you could make it. Want to throw on some boots and kick a few?"

Sam's eyes go wide as saucers. He's totally fan-boying right now, and it's adorable.

"Yeah! Absolutely," Sam practically squeals, shaking Joe's hand. "I'm Samuel McCrae, and this is Lily Valentine."

"Nice to meet you. The team's been following you guys and not just this dating thing you're doing. We've been checking out your meal plans too."

Joe and Sam start talking about nutrition as we are led to a bench where cleats in our size magically appear along with some socks. It's been a few years since I've played, so I'm out of practice. But kicking and passing a soccer ball is like riding a bike.

We jog onto the field where a few guys pass me the ball, and I pass it back.

"Hey, look here," one guy shouts. "We've got ourselves a pro!"

"Hardly! I doubt house league and varsity soccer count. If you're looking for the athlete in my family, it's my brother."

We stay on the field for about ten minutes, kicking balls around, fans cheering the entire time. Massive TV screens stand at both ends of the pitch, and cameras follow Sam and me.

Just as we go to make our way off the field, Joe calls us back over. I don't realize he's holding a microphone until his voice booms over the stadium speakers.

"Oye! Don't run off just yet. The fun is just starting. How about we play a little game before kick-off? Are you two a gambling sort of couple?"

A shiver of apprehension washes over me. I'm unsure how to answer his question, but with fans watching and chanting, I'm kind of obligated to play along. Before I can respond, Sam answers for both of us.

"Of course," he smirks, lapping up the attention. "What did you have in mind?"

"Let's take some penalties," Joe says, pointing to the Toronto keeper warming up between the goalposts. "A shootout between Lily and Samuel. Best two out of three, the winner claims a prize of their choice."

The fans go wild, cheering and blowing air horns.

"What do you say, Lily?" Sam asks. "Think you can beat me?" He waggles his eyebrows, making me laugh.

"Oh, I know I can."

Holly's probably died and gone to heaven. She couldn't have planned this date any better. Viewers are going to eat this shit up like Lindt chocolate.

We walk to the penalty dot and shake hands with the goalkeeper, who jokingly asks us to take it easy on him. I jump up and down a few times to loosen up, trying to expel all my nervous energy. I can do this. I used to take penalty kicks all the time in high school. It was my job. I was the team's designated kicker for penalties and corners.

"Who's first?" Joe asks into a mic.

"Ladies first," Sam answers, motioning me toward the penalty dot. I grit my teeth. Of course, he would make me go first.

"Get ready to lose Samuel McCrae. I hope you don't mind losing to a girl."

The trick to taking penalties is to keep your body as straight and centred as possible. The net is too big for the keeper to cover all of it, so he needs to make an educated guess where he thinks you'll shoot the ball. If you lean to one side or the other, it might tip him off. Unless you're bluffing. Next, you avoid eye contact for the same reason.

Out of habit and superstition, I lean down and slap my shins twice each before straightening. Then I lift each cleat one at a time. Left tap, right tap. It's the same ritual I did in high school. I take three steps back and one to the right, pick a corner, then shoot.

I'm surprised at the force and accuracy that I kick the ball. It's been a while, but I don't seem too out of practice as it flies swiftly into the top left corner. The keeper guessed wrong and dove right. The crowd goes crazy. Joe's playing commentator and everyone laughs at his jokes about the goalie needing to up his game. Then Sam takes his turn. He scores, tying us at one each. We both score on our next shots, too, which means it comes down to our final kick.

I pick a bottom corner and kick. The goalie dives, this time guessing the right, and deflects my ball away from the goal. The crowd sighs.

"Oh, so close! Finally, Johnny Ho makes a save," Joe teases his teammate. "Well, Samuel, it's all on you for the win. No pressure."

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