Spencer
“Dude, you gotta come check this kid out. He’s like ten, but he’s got mad skills.”
Mad skills. How many times had I heard one of my coaches come to me with that line? Skills, work ethic, and desire don’t always go hand in hand in the world of football… or soccer, as Americans called it. I got it. I’d grown up in Cali calling it that too. But at fourteen, I’d found myself immersed in the European world of football, where it wasn’t just a sport. It was a religion. And by twenty-one, my teammates and I were fucking demigods.
“I got my hands full here,” I said, gesturing to my computer screen.
I was creating a new training program for the coaches who helped run my soccer academy. We had over six hundred kids enrolled, and keeping up with the demand was a bitch. It wasn’t like I needed the money. I’d made an obscene amount playing the sport I loved for ten years, but I needed something to do with the rest of my life, and soccer was the only thing I knew.
“The, uh, kid’s mom said she’d like to talk to you too. If you have a minute? Something about a payment plan?”
I groaned, wishing I wasn’t so soft. Payment plans meant more paperwork, and having to chase people down when they failed to pay or kick them out of the academy, which I hated doing. It was a small wonder my office manager hadn’t kicked me in the balls by now ‘cause I’d never learned how to say no to a hard luck case. Probably had something to do with the fact that my parents hadn’t had two nickels to rub together when I was growing up but they’d found a way for me to play the sport I loved.
“Can’t she talk to Leela?” I asked, referring to my office manager.
“She’s already left for the day, boss.”
I glanced at the clock. “Shit, it’s seven o’clock already?” I hadn’t had a bite to eat since that morning. Thankfully we had a restaurant inside the facility I’d had built. “Okay, I should grab a chicken sandwich or something. I’ll check this kid out and have a word with his mom on my way.”
I followed my coach, Leon, who’d had a good run in the North American league before a bum knee sidelined him for good. Most of my coaches were former players who couldn’t give up the game. None had gone all the way to the top, as I had, but many had played pro or semipro before earning their national coaching credentials.
“There he is.” He pointed at the kid, who was trying to impress him mom with step overs and keep-ups. She smiled indulgently, the smile of an overworked mom who’d probably seen the same series of moves a dozen times that day.
I watched the kid for a few more minutes, impressed when he did a rainbow. I knew grown men who’d played for years and still couldn’t do that. My eyes drifted back to his mother, who’d now shifted to make more room for her son. She was facing me, and when I got a good look at her face, my breath stuttered. Her hair was a different color, and she was a little curvier than I remembered, but I’d have known those blue eyes and that laugh anywhere.
“What did you say the mom’s name was?” I asked, watching her instead of the kid.
“Uh…” He checked a clipboard he carried with him during drills. “Hallie Monroe.”
Shit. She’s married. Not that I should have been surprised since she had a kid. My eyes drifted to her left hand. Huh. No ring. Why wasn’t she wearing a ring?
“You get the kid set up,” I told Leon. “I’ll talk to the mom.”
“You got it, Spence.”
I approached them, but before Leon could lead his charge to the circle of kids already warming up, Hallie’s son ran up to me. “It’s you!” he screamed, pointing at me. “You’re Spencer MacKay!”
I laughed as I bent down so we were eye level. At six feet two, I was used to towering over most people, but I liked to be on the same level as the kids when I talked to them. I’d had no idea when I started this academy five years ago that so many of these little guys would steal a piece of my heart.
“I am,” I said, offering him my hand. “And what’s your name, buddy?”
“I’m Christian Monroe,” he said, shaking my hand. “But my friends call me Chris.”
“Cool,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder while drawing him in to my side. “You think it’d be okay if I called you Chris… since we’re gonna be buddies now?”
He stared at me, wide-eyed. “We are?”
I chuckled. The hero worship never got old. There was something about knowing that you’d made an impact on an impressionable kid and they wanted to grow up to be like you that stayed with you long after they’d snapped the selfie or beamed over the autograph.
“Sure, we are. You’re gonna be playin’ here, right?”
“I don’t know.” He bit his lip, looking back at his mom, who was chatting with Leon. “I want to, but Mom said not to get my hopes up in case things don’t work out.”
I had a feeling this boy was no stranger to disappointment. I felt for him. I’d been that kid too. The one whose parents couldn’t afford new shoes and wasn’t able to go on cool trips with the rest of the team because it wasn’t in our family budget. I’d been the one left behind until scouts came knocking the year I turned thirteen and my fortune changed.
“I’m sure we can work something out, Chris. Don’t you worry about that.” It wouldn’t be the first time I’d let a kid play even though his parents couldn’t afford to pay. It was my way of giving back and making sure that a boy with talent didn’t miss his one big shot. “You just give it all you got tonight, and if Leon thinks he can find a spot for you on the team, we’ll make it happen.”
I stood up, holding my fist out for him to bump. He did and ran off to tell his mom the news.
Hallie looked up at me, and I was twenty-two again. A cocky kid who thought he could have anything he wanted… except the girl who wasn’t impressed by the fancy car or wad of cash in my pocket.
I’d met Hallie at a rock concert right here in our hometown of Fresno, the year after I’d signed my first big pro contract. I was already making more money than I knew how to spend, and I thought I could have anyone and anything I wanted. But Hallie was the first and only girl to shut me down. She made me work for it. And man did I. The entire off-season I chased after that girl. Only a month before I had to head back to England did she finally admit she was in love with me. I’d wanted to try the long-distance thing, but she told me it would never work. She said she’d always remember me, and the warmth that flashed in her eyes now as she walked toward me told me she had.
“Hallie.” I tested her name on my lips as I got a flashback. All the times I’d groaned her name when she’d been going down on me… riding me… making my head explode as I came so hard I thought my fucking heart would give out.
“Spencer,” she said, her full lips twisting in a coy smile.
Her hair had been light blond back then, but it was softer, more of a honey color now. Her makeup was subtler, her curves rounder, but man, she was still a knockout.
“Your kid’s good,” I said, trying to keep it professional in case her husband walked through the door any second and caught me reminiscing with his wife.
“Thanks.” Her smile stretched with pride as she watched Chris run circles around the other kids on the team.
“What position has he been playing?”
“Striker.”
I nodded as we watched him. “We could use a good striker in his age group.”
“Before we get too far ahead of ourselves,” she said, grimacing, “I should probably make sure I’ll be able to pay for it.”
I wanted to ask about her husband but knew that would come out in time. “Have you had a chance to eat yet?” I asked, gesturing to the restaurant above field level. It was panelled in glass, with a great vantage point of all the fields so parents could grab a bite to eat, or a coffee, while they waited for their kids.
“No, I just picked Chris up from his grandmother’s house and brought him here.”
Since I assumed she was referring to his maternal grandmother, I asked, “How are your folks?” They were good, honest, hardworking people, like my parents.
“My dad died of a heart attack about four years ago,” she said, falling in to step beside me as we walked around the fields and up the stairs to the restaurant.
“Damn, I’m sorry, Hallie.” She was a daddy’s girl, so I knew his death must have hit her hard.
Her smile was grim as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket. She was wearing faded jeans and flat, black lacy shoes, giving me a full head and a half on her.
“Thanks. It’s been hard, but at least he got to meet his grandson. I’m grateful they had that time together.”
“Were they close?”
She smiled. “Really close. They used to go fishing, watch NASCAR. In fact, he was the one who got him into soccer.”
“Huh, not his dad?”
Her blue eyes flashed with an emotion I couldn’t decipher as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “His dad’s not in the picture.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I was, for the kid’s sake, but I was selfishly pumping my fist in the air because… fuck yeah! She wasn’t married.
“Don’t be. We’re better off without him, believe me.”
I held the door open so she could walk into the restaurant ahead of me. A few of the parents waved, and a couple of the older kids, teenagers who’d been with me since I opened the academy, called out my name. I nodded and moved on. I knew my time with Hallie was limited, and I wanted to learn as much as I could about what her life looked like now.
She’d been an art student when we’d been dating, with dreams of opening her own small gallery. I wanted to know if she’d made all those dreams come true. I wanted to know if she’d been married to Chris’s father and if the experience had left her disappointed and disillusioned. But most of all, I wanted to know if she ever thought of me. Because I sure as hell had thought of her over the years.
We approached the counter, and I ordered two chicken wraps with a bottled water while she ordered a salad with grilled chicken. She reached into her purse for her wallet before I placed a hand on her arm.
“Please, let me get this.” It was a little thing, but I’d always enjoyed doing things for her. Whether it was flowers for no reason or a piece of jewelry that made me think of her, I’d loved spoiling her, mainly because no one else ever had and she deserved it.
“Thank you,” she said, looking shy as she bit her lip and looked away.
My heart clenched when I thought of how much this girl had once meant to me. She’d been the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought about when I woke up. She’d been the reason I kept my phone charged all the time and my excuse for turning down every woman who propositioned me for months after I returned to England.
“My pleasure.”
I grabbed a plastic tray and our food while she collected plastic utensils and napkins before leading me to a table that overlooked the field her son was playing on.
We dug into our food as soon as we sat down, smiling over our mutual hunger.
“It’s really good to see you again, Spence,” she said finally as she uncapped her bottled water.
“You must have known you would when you came here,” I said, watching her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. “You knew this was my academy, right?” I chuckled. “My name is plastered on the building.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know if you were hands-on or not.” She glanced down at the field, smiling when she spotted her son doing drills. “I thought maybe you were more of a figurehead.”
I smirked as I raised my hands, wiggling my fingers. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Her gaze drifted to my hands, and I wondered if she was remembering how good it felt to have my hands caressing her body.
“So you seeing anyone?”
She laughed as she covered her mouth to avoid spewing her water. “Subtlety was never your thing, was it?”
I grinned. “Why be subtle? When you see something you want, go for it, right?”
Her smile slipped as she shook her head. “We’re not kids anymore, Spence. What we had was a lifetime ago.”
“I know.” And she had a kid to think about now. One who’d already made it clear he worshipped me. “But does that mean you never think about it?”
She forked a piece of chicken and put it in her mouth, chewing carefully. “No, it doesn’t mean that. How could I not think of you? You were this larger-than-life…”
“What?” I asked, needing to hear more.
“I’d just never met anyone like you before.”