Play With Me (6 page)

She blinked her eyes as rapidly as she could. The faster she did it, the fewer chances there were of her tears falling.

When she glanced back at the floor, Vasyl had just passed the ball to Damian, who barreled inside the paint, elbows out, preventing anyone from taking the ball. Behind him, Drew and Ivan were already positioning themselves below the ring, and Lace realized in shock that they were now doing what she had advised them to do—

Damian got the ball to Ivan, and the captain took a shot.
 

The ball went in smoothly, but only a second after the buzzer went off, signaling the opposing team’s victory.

Her heart sank.

They had done what she told them to do, but they had still lost.

Somehow, she managed to smile and shake the other coach’s hand, so depressed that she didn’t even mind the condescending look on the older man’s face. Normally, that would piss her off and get her in a shouting match, but right now, she didn’t even have the energy to be mad.

Right now, she was too busy kicking herself in the head. She should have devised another play, dammit. She should have taken their distrust into consideration, should have known from the start they wouldn’t carry out a risky play when they weren’t familiar with her strategies.
 

She tried to delay facing her team as much as possible, dragging her feet as she followed behind her team. Just before she made it to the dugout, someone shouted, “Yo, Wyndham bitch.”

Lace stiffened.

Looking up, she saw the players from Northwest College. Even now, the scorn on their faces hurt, and it didn’t matter if they were no longer on the same team. Lace had tossed and turned for so many nights, wondering what she had done to make them dislike her so much they hadn’t even given her a chance.

“You know they’ll keep losing because of you, right?”

A dozen retorts occurred to her, but in the end Lace just bit her tongue and let it go. They may hate her, but she didn’t hate them back, and she wouldn’t pretend she did. But she wished, she just really wished she knew what she had done to make them hate her. They had been nice guys at the start, but then something had happened that made them change overnight.

Ryan Jackson, Northwest’s assistant captain, sneered, “You’re delusional if you think you’ll be CU’s savior.”

The truth in his words made Lace flinch. Was it so easy to see through her? And was she really being delusional, thinking she could start over?

“Maybe you can still make them win,” Ryan was saying, rubbing his jaw. “You’re no good as a coach, but maybe you can still be in their team, and you can help them by spreading your legs.”

So many people were looking at her now, whispering, and it was like life at Northwest all over again. Humiliation made her want to run away, but she forced herself to stay still and meet Ryan’s gaze.
 

“I used to think you were a man, Jackson, but I guess not.”

Ryan turned red, but before he could answer, security suddenly came out of nowhere, flanking the six players from Northwest in every direction, the flaps of their jackets pushed to the back, revealing the guns tucked at their sides.

Before Lace could figure out what was happening, someone whispered from behind, “I’ll take care of it from here.”

Lace’s body jerked in shock.

Silver?      

Fingers twined with hers, gently leading her to the dugout. “Your team’s waiting for you.”

“How long have you been here?” She didn’t dare look at him as she spoke. She had a feeling if she did, she would break down completely. She had never thought of herself as a damsel in distress, but he made her feel like one, the way he’d always show up like a blasted knight in shining armor. And she didn’t like it. She
didn’t.

“From the very start.” His grip tightened, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles softly. “You didn’t think I’d miss your first game as CU’s coach, did you?”

She shrugged.

A
silvery
laugh, one that comforted and seduced her at the same time. “I’ll be waiting for you here.”

She took strength from Silver’s words, but when she reached the door to her team’s locker room, Lace stumbled to a stop, her stomach becoming queasy. Would they hate her as much as her players from Northwest did? And if they did, what would she do then?

Lace took a deep breath.
You’ve never cried over a lost game before, and you won’t start now, Wyndham. You’re a big girl. Just go face them and apologize for disappointing them.

Slowly, she opened the door—

Everyone was on their feet, and they were all facing the door, as if everyone had been waiting for her.
 

God, they must be really mad at her, so much so that hating Lace had turned them into an actual team.

She opened her mouth to apologize, just wanting to get it over with, but Ivan beat her to it.
 

“You did a good job.” The captain’s voice was gruff, but his gaze met her straight on, his dark eyes serious.

Her jaw dropped. “B-but we lost.” She hated the way her voice came out as a croak once more, but she couldn’t help it, could only be thankful she wasn’t crying yet.

“Not because of you,” Damian said.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, you spoke!” She had been practicing with them for more than a month, but it was her first time to hear his voice. “And you speak English!”

A dimple appeared on Damian’s face, and Lace almost had a heart attack at the sight of it. He not only knew how to speak, but he actually knew how to smile, too. He wasn’t a robot after all.
 

“Fluently.” Damian smirked, and the way all the guys in the team were smirking, too, made her want to kill all of them.

“And you even made me speak English so slowly to you, asshole.”

Damian laughed.

Vasyl said quietly, “We are truly sorry about the team’s loss.”

“It was my fault—”

Vasyl shook his head. “No. It was ours.”

Lace shook her head as well. “No, it’s mine. You did what I told you to do but—”

“We did it one second too late.” This from Alexio, who was scowling like always, but at least this time, it wasn’t aimed at her. Crossing his arms against his chest, he muttered, “It was our fault for not following your play.”

Drew nodded. “None of us really care about winning or losing, but when we saw your crying face—”

Lace turned red. “I was
not
going to cry!”

Her guys smirked in unison.

“I was NOT.”

“All right, all right, if you say so.” Clearly, Vasyl was the team’s designated mediator.

She caught sight of Ivan looking at the other players, and she had to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing right. Was that really Ivan, actually taking charge? Was he finally embracing his role as team captain?

Lace started when suddenly everyone turned to her.

“Coach?”

She swallowed. Fuck it, she was NOT going to cry. She was NOT. Even if her heart was singing like crazy at being called ‘Coach’ for the very first time by her boys, she was NOT going to cry.

“Y-yeah?” Fuck, but she hated the way her voice shook.

“Good game, Coach.” Ivan raised his fist, and she automatically raised hers.

Fist bump.

At Ivan’s nod, the players filed up, one by one bumping fists with her.
Assholes
, Lace thought even as she bumped her fists with them. All of them were assholes, the way they had pretended earlier not to see her wanting to bump fists with them.

“You guys.” She waited for them to look at her. “You know I’m going to make you pay tomorrow, right?”

They laughed.

“Whatever you say, Coach,” Damian said.

Vasyl nudged Ivan. “Look at her, Captain. She looks like she’s gone to heaven and back just because we called her ‘Coach’.”

“Shut up,” Lace snarled, but it was mostly reflex because right now, she really did feel like she had gone to heaven.

About an hour had passed by the time everyone had showered and left. She was the last one to come out of the locker room, and the first thing she saw was Silver, leaning against the wall, a patient look on his beautiful face. He was dressed in another beautiful suit, his hands deep in his trousers’ pockets.
 

He straightened from the wall the moment he saw Lace, and as he walked towards her, his gaze on her face, Lace’s heart started to beat faster and faster. By the time he stood right in front of her, she felt like she had just completed a triathlon.
 

He touched her face. “You look tired, little lamb.”

It was
torture
not to rub her face against his palm like a kitten. Her gaze captured by his, she said gruffly, “I’m good.”

“Wyndham?”

“March?”

His lips curved, and goddammit, she hated the way his smile had her feeling butterflies. Basketball was the only reason she had butterflies in the past, but not anymore.

“I’ll be in Europe for a week.”

She paled.
A week?
Wait – why did she care? She had lived nineteen years without him. Why should one week without Silver March matter? But really,
a week?
And…
Europe?

“That’s why I came to watch your game. I was hoping we could have dinner together, but I have to leave now to make it to tonight’s meeting.”

Her teeth gnashed together,
hard.
It was the only way Lace could keep herself from asking him not to go. And she was
never
going to do that.
Never.

“You won’t forget about me while I’m gone, will you?”

She would have laughed if he didn’t sound so serious. Looking away, she muttered self-consciously, “Are you kidding? It’s not even
possible.
”

“I don’t know.” The grimness of his tone exasperated and embarrassed her. How could he seriously think she’d be able to forget him? There wasn’t a guy she knew who could even
compare
to him.

“I’m worried about someone stealing you away while I’m gone.”

“I’m not a ball.”

His eyes suddenly gleamed. “I don’t know.” He pushed her back against the wall, and his hands spanned her waist. “You feel very round to me—”

Lace gasped. She tried to punch him in the chest, but Silver simply caught her wrist –
both
wrists – and suddenly she found her hands imprisoned behind her back.

Lace’s eyes widened. “
M-March
?”

“I want to bind you to me in another way before I go, little lamb.” The lightest touch on her lips and then he was trailing kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and then—

She stiffened. Was he—surely, he couldn’t—

But there was no denying that sucking sound, just as that sensation of her skin being sucked into his mouth was undeniable.

Was he trying to give her a
hickey?

That last word had her panicking, and Lace used all her strength to shove him off. “
March
,
no
—”

Silver lifted his head. “I need to make sure you’re mine.” His lips went back to her neck, but this time, she could feel his hands getting busy as well. She froze when she felt his hands go under her blouse. She immediately tried squirming out of his hold, pushing against his shoulders, but it was like trying to get an immovable boulder out of her way.
 

Her panicky gaze flew to the dugout’s exit as she hissed, “Someone might come, asshole.” But the last word came out more a whimper, her irritation vanquished by the overwhelming sensations his touch evoked. He was cupping her cotton-covered breasts, and she couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes closed at the sheer pleasure of it. Lace had always hated her breasts, had always thought it a stumbling block in her chosen career, but when Silver groaned, “You have the most amazing breasts, Wyndham—”

Having breasts might not be so bad, after all.

Silver’s mouth was moving down again, his fingers nimble as he unbuttoned her long-sleeved shirt, just enough to reveal her bra. He groaned again, the sound making her jerk as she was reminded that any moment someone could hear him and see them.