DESPERATE & DIVINE

13. Tension

December is proving to be a hectic month for the team, with the possibility of winning the league now within reach after a rocky start. Our focus is on the upcoming big games against Chelsea, and all tactics and training sessions are geared toward preparing for those crucial matches. The pressure is mounting, and I know I should be fully committed to improving my performance, focused on the job at hand.

But no matter how hard I try, my thoughts keep drifting back to Leah. Specifically, to that kiss last week. It's consumed me, taking root in my mind like a distraction I can't shake. In quiet moments, I find myself scrolling through Zara's social media, searching for any subtle signs, any indication that they might have broken up. It's ridiculous, it's unhealthy, and I know it's unfair to Leah. I promised her space, but I can't help it. I'm obsessed with the idea that maybe, just maybe, things could be different now.

This morning is one of my many chaotic moments, with me so engrossed in playing with Win the dog that I completely lose track of time. By the time I glance at the clock, panic sets in—I'm already 15 minutes late for our tactics meeting.

Out of breath from sprinting across the training ground, I burst into the meeting room, clutching a half-eaten banana in my hand like it's my last lifeline. Jonas shoots me a disapproving look, his silent warning clear: don't let it happen again. I mumble a quick apology, my eyes scanning the room until I spot an empty chair near the back.

I suppress a grin when I realise it's next to Leah.

As I slide into the seat, Leah meets my gaze, her eyebrow raised in amusement, a sly smirk playing at her lips. The way she looks at me sends my heart racing, and I do my best to maintain some level of composure, though my mind is far from tactical discussions. The subtle scent of her perfume hits me, instantly reminding me of how close we'd been, how electric that kiss had felt.

I cross my legs, turning my body ever so slightly toward her, feeling the pull I've tried to ignore. She doesn't say anything, but there's something in the way she watches me—a shared tension, a quiet understanding that lingers between us. I steal glances at her, a soft smile tugging at my lips, knowing I should focus but finding it impossible.

"What time do you call this?" she whispers, her voice low and secretive as Jonas turns his back to the board.

"I got held up," I reply, my eyes flicking to the front where he arranges counters in various formations, the rest of the girls fully absorbed in the tactics.

Leah leans in toward me, her breath warm against my ear. "By who?" she asks, and I can feel the edge of jealousy in her voice, not even an attempt to hide it.

"By a stunning brunette," I murmur back, letting my voice drop into something teasing. She goes quiet at that, her expression suddenly clouded with disappointment. I steal a glance at her, and the sight of her face falling tugs at something deep inside me.

Without thinking, I move my hand closer to hers, letting our pinkies brush across the gap between our seats. It's subtle, but enough to spark a connection. I lean in, my lips barely grazing her ear as I add, "You might know her. Goes by Win, loves belly rubs and kisses."

She scoffs, rolling her eyes, but there's a playful glint in her gaze now. The tension between us shifts as her lips curve into a smile, betraying her amusement. And then, without hesitation, she slides her hand fully into mine, effortlessly intertwining our fingers.

The simplicity of it, the ease with which she holds me, sends a surge of warmth through my chest. I glance down at our hands—linked together beneath the desk, a secret only we share—and my heart pounds. Her thumb begins tracing soft, soothing circles on the back of my hand, each movement grounding me in a way that's impossible to ignore.