Scoring Wilder by R. S. Grey

Author:R. S. Grey [Grey, R. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780990490401
Published: 2016-03-06T16:00:00+00:00

The three of us were focusing on pushups when I heard Liam’s harsh tone ring through the air.

"Tara, I thought I warned you about this last time? What the hell do you not understand about treating your teammates with respect?"

I paused mid push-up to see Tara turn to him with a conniving grin.

"Liam! Just the man of the hour..."

It didn't escape my notice that she called him Liam instead of Coach Wilder. She was proving how in charge she was in that moment. She held all of our fates in the palm of her pretty little hand.

"Excuse me?" Liam asked, standing to his full height. He looked lethal. He'd never looked at me the way he was looking at Tara. Unabashed rage masked his beautiful features, and for one moment I was scared something very bad was about to happen. I tried to shoot him a weary gaze that could somehow sum up how fucked we were now that Tara knew about us.

"We've got to go get ready for practice. Excuse me," Tara said, waving sweetly and walking away without bothering to answer him.

Liam eye’s followed her movements for a moment and then tugged his hands through his hair. He looked helpless and in a sense, he was. Going to Coach Davis was his only option.

Would he do that?

If he did, would Tara tell Coach Davis about our relationship?

"Are you guys okay?" Liam asked, bending down to where we were all sitting.

Emily nodded, but stayed silent.

"Oh yeah! We had a wonderful morning. I'll let Kinsley fill you in though," Becca said as she pushed up off the ground with Emily so they could head into the field house after the seniors.

"Kinsley, why the hell are you letting her treat you like this? I'm taking this to Coach Davis."

The last sentence spurred me into action.

"She knows," I began, but I could hardly get the words out through the emotion building behind my eyes. I was in way over my head and I couldn't see which way was up anymore.

Liam nodded, slowly grasping the seriousness of the situation. His hand reached down for mine so that he could help me up just as Coach Davis pulled into her parking spot. She hopped out of her car and eyed us warily for a moment before heading inside. Just fucking great. Her suspicion was the last thing we needed.

"I've got to go to practice. We'll talk later," I promised, turning on my heel and running inside before he could say anything else.

Our relationship was poison for my career. The media would spin us into whatever sold the most magazines and “happy soccer couple” wouldn’t sell shit compared to a soccer bad boy going after a naïve girl that he was supposed to be coaching at the time.

We were royally screwed.

…

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