Out of Bounds

3. Ethan

Chapter Three

Ethan

“Please do explain,” Coach said with a shake of his head as he eyed me.

I sat on the opposite side of his desk, while he idly tossed a ball back and forth in his hands. Coach Bernie Hoffman was a good guy. He also used to be the lion of football, excuse me soccer, back in his day before he retired and started coaching. In the year plus since I’d signed with the Stars, I’d come to respect the hell out of him. Unlike my last coach back in Britain, he had little tolerance for shenanigans. But he wasn’t an a*s about it. He never was. Hence, I felt foolish. Again.

“Coach, it’s as I said. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I stumbled right into the middle of that fight. I’ll fess up I was a bit sloshed, which is why I wasn’t paying attention. But I swear, the other guy clocked me first. I can’t believe he’s pressing charges. Zoe suggested I could press charges in return, but that seems b****y ridiculous. Have you talked to her?”

The second I said Zoe’s name, an image of her flashed in my mind—her cheeks flushed and her green eyes dark when I teased her. I couldn’t help myself. b****y hell. That woman was so f*****g hot, I almost got hard now thinking about her. Coach interrupted my lascivious train of thought.

“She emailed me sometime before the sun came up.” He paused and shook his head again. “She didn’t even hesitate when I asked her to go to the station and meet you at one in the morning. I hope you thanked her.”

When he paused, I knew he expected me to say something. Affirmative, of course. As I mentioned, I had manners. “Absolutely. I thanked her several times.”

Coach nodded slightly before continuing. “So yes, she sent an email giving me a status update. She doesn’t seem concerned about your charges, and in fact, was pretty clear she thought you should push the issue with the police. She plans to go talk with them this morning when she can speak with a supervisor. My concern is this guy figured out who you were and might be thinking he can squeeze some money out of you.”

I bit my tongue to keep from swearing. Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. “Are you serious? I didn’t even think about that.”

Coach nodded slowly with a roll of his eyes. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit. Anyway, Zoe will take care of it. If it’s as you say, we shouldn’t need to worry.”

He stood and tossed the small ball into a basket in the corner. “Great work at practice today. Do me a favor and stay out of trouble, okay?”

I stood as he rounded his desk. “Of course. I won’t even go to any pubs for now,” I said, thinking it chafed to feel like some arse who’d been drunk and stupid.

I left his office and strolled down the hall to find my flat mate. I cornered the door into the locker room and almost collided with him.

“Eh, mate. Just coming to find you,” I said as I turned to walk alongside him.

Tristan Wells glanced to me, flashing a slight grin. For him, that was downright cheery. He was low-key, probably why he and I ended up such good mates. Tristan had signed with the Stars when I did, along with two other teammates from Britain. I’d known Liam and Alex back at university and ended up on a team in Britain with them after a stint with another that didn’t go so well. We’d done the university bit together, so we knew each other well. Tristan was the brainiest of us all, hence why he hadn’t been at university with us. Rather, he’d been at Oxford being brilliant. He also happened to be brilliant at football. At first, I’d considered him stuffy. He was b****y quiet. As I’d gotten to know him, I discovered he had a wicked, sly humor and wasn’t the least bit stuffy.

He stayed quiet as we walked down the long stadium hallway, our footsteps echoing as we followed the curve of the hall to the doors. We stepped out into a rare, sunny afternoon for Seattle. Only then did Tristan speak.

“How’d it go with Coach?” he asked.

“Eh, fine,” I replied with a shrug. “Said what I expected him to say. I shan’t be having any nights out until this all goes away.”

We commenced to walk to our flat. No surprise, but Tristan was quiet for a few moments. Every so often, I considered how surprising it might seem we’d become best mates. I’d be the first to admit, I was wild, flirty, teasing and generally out for fun however I could find it. Tristan, on the other hand, was somehow managing to balance a career in professional football whilst finishing his medical degree.

I loved women. b****y hell did I love women. Tristan, on the other hand, seemed too damn busy to find time for them. He reminded me of Alex Gordon, another of our mates from Britain. Alex had approached s*x like a business transaction back in London. An itch to be scratched and nothing more. Well, he’d gone and fallen like a rock for his girl Harper, but that was another thing.

Me? I loved s*x, and I loved women. As much and as often as I could find them. I hadn’t given myself the nicknames stuck to me in the press, but I didn’t mind them. Magnum followed me from London, an ode to the condoms a woman had quite publicly given to me after a night together. Golden Boy Brit had been added to the list when I moved here. That one amused me less so, nothing more than a silly play off my hair. My sisters, all four of them, loved teasing me with that one.

Tristan seemed mildly amused by all of this. He was the best kind of mate. He never hesitated to pick up the phone, including the other night when I needed someone sensible to straighten out my unintended mess. As we came to a stop at a cross street, he glanced my way. “Right then. You’d best find another way to meet women. Else you’ll drive me mad moping about the flat,” he said with a gleam in his hazel eyes.

I elbowed him in the side as we started walking again. “I don’t need a pub to meet women.”

He flashed another grin. “Aye, you don’t. So who’s the poor lawyer that had to go meet you there last night?”

By the time I made it home last night, Tristan had been asleep, understandably so. He’d been up and gone by the time I woke up, so practice today was the first place we’d spent more than a few minutes together.

“Same lawyer who handled Alex’s case. Zoe Lawson.”

Just saying her name made me jumpy. b****y hell. I wanted to see her again.

“Ah, the pretty redhead?”

The second Tristan asked his question, hot jealousy coiled inside. Hot on its heels was me wondering what the hell was going on. I didn’t get jealous. Hell, I thought all men should appreciate women. I’d even tried to set Tristan up with a few women who were down for nothing but a little fun. To no avail, of course. But still. I wasn’t that guy who growled about a girl and chased other guys off. I figured it was easy come, easy go.

Apparently not with Zoe. b****y hell.

I chided myself and told myself not to be crazy. Just because Tristan happened to notice Zoe was pretty didn’t mean much of anything.

“Aye, the pretty redhead. Legs that go on for days,” I finally managed, striving for casual.

We reached the steps to our building. Tristan glanced to me again, his gaze too sharp, too assessing. I ignored it as we walked into our flat. He tossed his keys on the table and kicked his shoes off. Our flat had an expansive living room and kitchen with sunlight spilling through the front windows and gleaming on the hardwood floors. To say our furnishings were minimalist might have been an understatement. We had a black sectional couch, a coffee table and a flat-screen television mounted on the back wall. The kitchen conveniently came with an island counter with stools for seating, so we didn’t even have to bother with a table and chairs. Otherwise, we had our two bedrooms and a bathroom. We were both tidy. I loathed a messy place.

I kicked my shoes off and headed straight to the kitchen. I was bone tired from not much sleep and practice, so I started up some coffee. Tristan followed me over and slipped into a stool, running a hand through his black curls.

“I’d say you might have a thing for Zoe,” he said. Out of the blue as far as I was concerned.

My pulse took off like a rocket, and I was relieved my back was to him. I bought myself a moment getting the water poured into the coffeemaker. Just enough time for me to talk my body down. It was b****y ridiculous the effect Zoe had on me. It occurred to me suddenly that last night, or this morning if that how you wanted to look at it, was the first time I’d actually been alone with her for more than a few minutes. My few and far between encounters with her before had always been in the company of Alex when he was dealing with his case last fall. Save when I’d impulsively kissed her in that hallway, which had been maybe a minute tops.

I tapped the button to start the coffee and turned to face Tristan, curling my hands over the counter as I did. It chafed at me to be bothered by his comment. Usually, I gave as good as I got, especially when it came to teasing about women. I’d managed to get my pulse to stop running about like a wild man, so I took that as a win. I met Tristan’s gaze and knew in a flash he knew perfectly well I was bothered by Zoe. f**k it. If I trusted anyone, it was Tristan.

“Perhaps I do,” I said with a shrug, unable to resist the urge to sound as if it was nothing.

Tristan idly twirled a salt-shaker in his hand as he eyed me. I’d say he looked thoughtful, but he always looked thoughtful because he was one of the most sensible, thoughtful men I knew.

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing to like a woman like her,” he said. “That said, I don’t think Zoe Lawson would fall for your fun and games. You’d have to take her seriously.”

Oh, he had no idea how seriously I took Zoe. I’d felt many things in life, but uncertainty was not one of them. I ignored it because there was nothing else to do about a feeling like that. At least, not that I knew.

“Of course,” I replied, bouncing my heel against the cabinet behind me. I took a breath and eyed Tristan, calling on the me I knew so well, the one who wasn’t rattled by any woman. “Perhaps she needs to stop taking life so seriously?”

Tristan set the salt-shaker down and pushed off of his stool. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you might need a change of pace.”

That left me speechless and unsettled. When I didn’t reply, he started walking toward the bathroom. “I’m hitting the shower. My arm took a blow at practice today, and I could use more steam,” he called over his shoulder.

I watched him walk away, annoyed with my irritation at him and at how unsettled I felt about his last comment. As soon as he disappeared from sight, I recalled Zoe’s flushed cheeks and the feel of her silky skin under my fingertip. That one touch—a drag of my finger down her cheek and neck—and just thinking about it got me hard. f**k it. I had good reason to go find her, so I would. I turned off the coffee and hollered to Tristan I was taking off.