Kick Out of It (Needing to Score #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

RONAN

“ W e’ve been through this,” Russ huffs, “it was just an accident . I don’t have anger issues.”

Yes, we have indeed been through it… for the past six months . Group therapy video calls are mandatory by my football club’s manager. I chose this one because it has a diverse group of athletes—Will, the American football quarterback; Lucas, the Australian rugby hooker; and Russ, the Canadian ice hockey goalie. Then, there’s me, the odd man out; an Irish football striker in a new Premier League, just here for a good time. They’ve become more than a therapy obligation, they’re my mates. We talk several times a week, even though we only officially meet on Mondays at 4 a.m. my time. I should take it more seriously, but I don’t have the same baggage to unpack. I’d much rather talk to them in our group text chat, when it isn’t in the middle of the fucking night.

Since I started the calls, I’ve heard Russ’ story no less than twenty times. As a hockey goalie, there are not many opportunities for him to let out aggression on the ice; stuck between the pipes for the majority of the game. When he did, a player nearly died. We’ve all seen the videos and I can’t imagine having that kind of accident on my conscience. It doesn’t help that his suspension is hurting his team—their backup goalie is absolute shit.

I’m only half listening to his denial as I’m messaging Nora in a separate browser window on my computer.

Nora

You better win your match tomorrow.

What do I get if I win?

Isn’t glory enough?

I won’t say no to a strip tease.

Only if it’s from you. No links to porn.

You’re mad. I’m going to bed.

Sweet dreams, night owl.

Have a great day, early bird.

I hate the time difference. Nora‘s not going to bed for at least a couple of hours, likely reading her sexy as fuck romance novels. After buying a few that she mentioned she was reading, I only made it through a few chapters before my balls ached. I can’t help but wonder if she touches herself whilst reading them.

Why the fuck is that where my mind went?

I’m such an arsehole.

The thought of her reaching between her thighs with soft moans passing her lips has my cock hard as steel. I adjust myself, unable to hide my smirk, and startle when Russ groans, “What’s so fucking hilarious, Ronan?”

“Nothing,” I lie, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I wasn’t laughing; I was practically panting at the thought of Nora coming. On video, it feels as if all four sets of eyes are on me. I quickly school my expression and nod for him to continue before the doc has a chance to chime in.

“As I was saying?—”

“Actually, it’s not nothing. I have something I’d like to share,” I interject, saving my mates another rehash, as well as my sanity. “I’ve met someone.”

“Met someone?” Despite Russ’ genuine curiosity, his perpetual scowl still pierces me through the screen.

“I suppose I’m using ‘met’ loosely; I have been talking to them for over a year. This past month, things have been shifting between us to the point that I haven’t dated… anyone . No one interests me. I know this isn’t meant for dating advise, but I don’t know what to fucking do!” I rake my hand through my hair. “I’m like a damn teenager with a crush.”

“Ronan, we’ve been over this. We’d like to keep our f-bombs to a minimum here,” our therapist, Vicky, reminds me. She pushes up her black-rimmed glasses and adds, “This is a safe space. Russ, can we pause on your incident and circle back to it?” He nods. “Ronan, feel free to tell us about this woman.”

“How do you know it’s a woman?” Lucas, asks earnestly. He’s six-foot-six and a wall of muscle—a fucking beast. You’d never guess he is basically a marshmallow obsessed with Star Wars. His comment doesn’t surprise me; he falls in love with people for who they are, not based on what’s between their legs. And he falls often .

“True, a valid point, Lucas,” Vicky agrees.

I groan, “Yes, it’s a woman,” rolling my eyes and folding my arms over my chest. Though, I’m not offended, just annoyed at my situation. Nora’s off-limits; I almost wish she were a man, then I wouldn’t be fantasising about my face between her legs. “She’s my mate’s ex.”

Also, over half a decade older than me… and a mum… and a widow… and a journalist who will be covering Cork. Oh, and her ex? He’s also goalkeeper for the club. I sure know how to pick ‘em.

“No, nope, noooo! Run away, change your name, change your phone number,” Will demands. He has a thick Boston accent that I chuckle at every time he chimes in. As one of the top quarterbacks in American football, I imagine the gruff bark helps with his game. He was recently traded to New York, and after an altercation with a New England linebacker, he’s in the same boat as Russ—attending mandated therapy.

“It’s not like that. They dated over a decade ago, and we’re just friends. She interviewed me when I played for Ireland in the World Cup and we kept in touch. She’s smart, fucking beautiful…” Vicky gives me a knowing look at the curse. I blow out a long breath. “In the last month we’ve been… flirting? At least I am. She’s coming to Ireland in a few weeks for work. What should I do?”

Vicky smiles and offers, “You could ask her on a date when she’s there after discussing it with your friend? But as far as relationships are concerned, I’d highly recommend that any potential partners you gentlemen court are privy to the fact that you’re attending therapy. Don’t wait until eight months into the relationship to discuss your mental health.”

“I don’t have mental health issues,” Russ insists, folding his arms over his chest.

“ We know ,” Will, Lucas, and I say in unison.

“I say go for it,” Lucas suggests with a beaming grin. “What’s the worst that can happen? Single mums are hot.”

Hot doesn’t even begin to describe Nora, but I’ll let it slide.