Always on My Mind (Stanmore FC Soulmates #2)

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gray clouds hung low in the sky over the Hive, threatening to douse the women Wasps with rain on their first day of training in the new season. But even the clouds couldn’t dampen the spirits of a newly promoted team in the Women’s Super League. Hope surged through the air like electricity. Jamie felt it in the goosebumps erupting over her skin.

She had just gotten her practice kit on when a pair of tan, muscular arms engulfed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground. Jamie yelped with surprise and tried to wriggle free to no avail.

“Welcome to the Wasps!” the assailant said with a friendly squeeze before setting Jamie back down. She whirled around to see it was the goalkeeper, who loomed large with her broad shoulders and six-pack abs. Luckily, her smile was warm. “I’m Eliana. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jamie said after catching her breath.

“Jesus, Eli, you can’t just go around picking people up,” the woman two lockers down from Jamie interjected. Jamie recognized her—Neriah Price, an American defender Jamie had played against in international competitions. She shot Jamie an apologetic look. “You’ll have to forgive my girl. She’s overly friendly, but we’re working on boundaries.”

Eliana chuckled and kissed Neriah’s cheek. “Whatever you say, baby.”

A twinge of envy curled up in Jamie’s stomach, but she forced a smile. “Really, it’s fine.”

“Glad we’re on the same team, finally,” Neriah said, tying her locs behind her head. Then she offered her hand, which Jamie shook. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Jamie replied. Their kindness made it easier to forgive them for the ease with which they dated.

“Jamie!” a familiar voice called.

Jamie whipped around and grinned. “Paige!”

She flung herself into her England teammate’s arms and they laughed together. Paige Sutton was as reliable a defender as she was a friend, even if she was intense and opinionated at times. Jamie was thrilled to be her teammate on a club level as well.

As they swayed in each other’s embrace, another new signing arrived. Someone else Jamie recognized. Irish midfielder Niamh O’Hartigan, who had a friendly disposition, but a threatening one on the pitch. Jamie saw the news of Niamh’s signing shortly after her own transfer was finished.

“Jamie Hupp,” Niamh said brightly. “We’re on the same side at last.”

“And sharing the midfield,” Jamie replied as they exchanged a high five. “Happy to see you.”

“You too.”

Two other defenders, Salma Chafik from Morocco and Kiri Taimona from New Zealand, came over to say hello to the new signings as well.

“Oh no!” A young woman came around the corner, holding her hijab at her chin. “Does anyone have a pin? Mine broke.”

A collective groan went through the team, but they all moved toward their lockers.

“Got it!” Salma spoke up first. “It’s my turn, anyway.”

While she took care of it, the hijabi woman blinked her kind brown eyes at the newcomers. “Oh! Hi! I’m Zahra. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jamie Hupp,” Jamie said with a grin. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Here you go,” Salma said as she returned. “Need help with it?”

Zahra lifted her head. “Yes please.”

Jamie watched as Salma assisted Zahra and found herself smiling. “The whole team keeps pins on hand?”

“When your teammate is as accident-prone as Zahra, you learn to adjust,” Kiri said.

“I’m not that bad!” Zahra protested, and tried to turn her head before Salma grabbed her chin.

“Be still,” Salma warned. “I don’t want to stab you.”

“I’ll be adding some to my locker, then,” Niamh said.

“Me too,” Jamie added.

Zahra’s lips turned up, and she shot them a thumbs up from where she stood.

The door burst open and in walked three of the most stunning women Jamie had ever seen. They strode into the dressing room as if in slow motion. She also knew them from international competitions.

Sofia Salda?a from Spain, head-turningly beautiful with her long, dark hair in plaits down her back, a smile that could be in toothpaste commercials, and eyes like rich earth. Next to her was Mai Thu Phong, a Vietnamese national Jamie had met for the first time during the World Cup. Mai had the speed and accuracy of an arrow, with a disarmingly sweet grin.

And finally, from Germany, was Monika Deschant, a tall blonde striker, who Jamie had faced in Euros and World Cups. She was painfully familiar with the damage Monika’s left foot could do. The press constantly speculated why she wouldn’t sign with a WSL team before, or even move over to America and play for an NWSL team. But all Monika would say was that she loved Stanmore. Jamie had to respect that level of dedication.

The trio came to a stop in front of Jamie and Niamh. Sofia and Mai smiled, but Monika’s blue eyes raked over them, pausing on Jamie. Jamie could see the questions in Monika’s mind, but didn’t try to say anything before Monika spoke.

“Well,” she said. “You are here.”

Jamie lifted her chin. “I am.”

“Willkommen,” Monika replied and put her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie spied the captain’s armband on her sleeve. “You will be good for us, I think.”

“I hope so, thanks,” Jamie returned.

Monika patted her arm and then moved aside so Sofia and Mai could introduce themselves. They were decidedly warmer than the captain, but Jamie understood some skepticism. It was pretty much unheard of for an athlete to leave abruptly from a club they performed well with only to join a club everyone underestimated. She was sure the whole team had questions, even if they weren’t asking them outright.

“Alright, ladies, listen up!”

All eyes turned on their manager, Rebecca Nelson. Jamie read up on her when she signed with Stanmore. Rebecca was a legend of the US Women’s National Team and NWSL. Being coached by a woman, like she was when she played for England, excited Jamie. Especially after everything that happened with Manchester City.

“I want to start by welcoming our new signings, Jamie Hupp and Niamh O’Hartigan,” Rebecca said. “We’re happy to have you both.”

Jamie and Niamh nodded in acknowledgment.

Rebecca looked around at the group, locking eyes with each of them as she scanned their faces. “I also want to say, welcome to the WSL!”

Cheers and applause went through the room, but Jamie hesitated to participate. She’d always been in the WSL, and she certainly hadn’t helped this team get there. She let her arms fall to her sides.

“I want each of you to know, you deserve to be here,” Rebecca went on. “We worked damn hard to earn our spot. And I don’t give a shit what the pundits say, we belong here. Let’s plan to stay.”

“We’re staying up!” Paige shouted, and the team all cheered in agreement.

Jamie could get on board with that. Especially when Zahra slung an arm over her shoulder and squeezed. As if she was already a seasoned member of the squad.

“We’re not gonna let anyone intimidate us,” Rebecca continued. “We’re here!”

“We’re here!” the team echoed.

“We’re Stanmore!”

“We’re Stanmore!”

“And we’re gonna kick some ass!”

“And we’re gonna kick some ass!”

Rebecca beamed. “Excellent. Now, let’s get dressed and get out on the pitch.”

They did, and excited chatter went through the room. Rebecca touched Jamie’s arm.

“Jamie, could I speak to you in my office?”

Jamie swallowed, but nodded, and followed her new manager. Rebecca closed the door behind them and the sound died down. Jamie shifted her weight between her feet, unsure if she should sit down or remain where she was. She hoped this was a conversation that wouldn’t be too long. Being singled out on the first day was already tough. If she were late, she didn’t want anyone under the impression she was getting special privileges.

“Obviously, a lot of people are confused by why you’re here,” Rebecca said, tucking a lock of curly auburn hair behind her ear. “But from what I understand in my discussions with your agent, this was your choice.”

Jamie nodded. “It was.”

“Why?”

Jamie opened her mouth to give her carefully prepared answer, but Rebecca stopped her before she could speak.

“And don’t give me the bullshit you gave the press about wanting to prove yourself,” she said. “I want an honest answer from you. Why now? And why this club?”

Jamie chewed her lip, racking her brain. “Um. . . can I ask you something first?”

“Sure.”

“Has my father been in contact with you?”

Rebecca smirked. “As a matter of fact, he has.”

Jamie’s heart sank. “And did he tell you to ask me this?”

“He did.” She leaned against the desk and folded her arms over her chest. “But I told him to fuck off. This is my team, and how I deal with my players is my business.”

Jamie blinked, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You did?”

“Yeah. Sorry if that puts you in a bind.”

He’d be calling to complain, but Jamie shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“I’m asking you this, Jamie, because I want to know what your intentions are. As you saw, what we’ve accomplished means a lot to us. You’re a great footballer, and I have no doubt you’ll do well here. I want to know if you’re in this for you, or if you truly want to be a part of us. And what we’re building here.”

Jamie glanced out the window and watched her new teammates milling about. Neriah braided Kiri’s hair, and Sofia adjusted Niamh’s headband to keep it in place. Monika laughed with Mai while Eliana and Paige did some sort of secret handshake. Zahra and Salma were helping each other stretch.

“I want to be a part of this,” Jamie said, facing Rebecca again. “I’ll admit, I came here for selfish reasons. Something happened at City, and I. . . couldn’t be there anymore. I wanted to come home to London, and Stanmore said they wanted me.”

Rebecca’s brow furrowed. “Something happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I want to move on.”

“Understood.” Rebecca paused for a beat as her features relaxed. “I hope you know that you’re safe here. And anything you tell me or them—” she nodded toward the team. “It won’t get to anyone else.”

Jamie wanted to believe it. Desperately, she wanted to trust them. But her father had eyes and ears everywhere. One slip up, and he’d know.

“He Googles me every day,” she blurted out. “My father.”

Rebecca only smirked. “Do you know how long Neriah and Eliana have been together?”

“No, why?”

“A year and a half.”

Jamie blinked, taken aback. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. And believe me, they danced around each other with their flirting and blushing for at least six months before becoming official. It was nauseating.”

Jamie chuckled, but her mind was filled with questions. How did no one know? Neriah Price was a well-known figure with the US Women’s National team. If she was dating someone, especially for that long, it would have been in the press.

Rebecca continued. “But Eliana’s parents are devout Catholics, so they keep it low-key.”

Jamie watched Neriah and Eliana share a kiss and a high five as they prepared to head out to the practice pitch. Rebecca put her hand on Jamie’s shoulder, drawing her attention again.

“Nothing from this dressing room ends up on Google.”

Jamie nodded, but didn’t have words to reply. Her throat was suddenly tight.

“See you on the pitch,” Rebecca said, and left the office.

Jamie lingered only a moment longer before following her out.

After warm-ups, they ran some passing drills. Jamie found easy chemistry with Niamh and Zahra, which surprised her since they were all new to each other. But scatterbrained as Zahra seemed in the dressing room, she was focused on the pitch—accurate and alert. She helped Niamh and Jamie find a rhythm with the squad with the grace of an orchestra conductor. It was especially impressive given she was only twenty-two years old. Six years younger than Jamie.

When they played first team against second team, Jamie’s nerves were all but gone. She inhaled deeply and grounded herself in the moment. This was where she was at her best. With acres of green in front of her and the ball at her feet. In the first thirty seconds, she passed a ball through to Monika, who dropped a shoulder to avoid her defender and took a shot. The ball rocketed into the back of the net. Monika ran over and gave Jamie a high five, smiling at her for the first time.

“I think we will keep you,” she joked.

Jamie laughed. And realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed at training. Monika elbowed her playfully and jogged back out to restart. Jamie followed, feeling lighter than she had in years.

After training, once everyone was showered and dressed, Niamh stood up on the bench.

“Attention please, girls!” she shouted.

The room went quiet, and they all watched her.

“Thank you. Now, I wanted to let you know that you’re all invited to a housewarming party my flatmate and I are hosting. She’s a sweet girl, I think you’ll all love her. It’s this Saturday night, and the theme is the Spice Girls. How about it?”

The team exchanged surprised looks before collectively agreeing and pulling Niamh down into their arms. They created a group chat where she could send the details for time and place and what they all might bring.

“One note on the theme,” Niamh said. “You can’t all be Sporty Spice, so you’ll have to work it out amongst yourselves who gets to—”

She hardly had the words out before she was inundated with complaints. Even as they bickered with each other, there was laughter and smiles. Jamie was already planning her Posh Spice outfit.