Pitched Off- Leah Williamson

Chapter 9

"We need to talk," I say pushing my way into her room.

"You're right." She says, closing the door before leaning back against it, her arms crossed against her chest. I pace the entry to her room, knowing very well that my face is completely flushed. An even mix of anger and alcohol tends to do that to me. "Y/N... are you drunk?"

"Barely."

"Well, I need to talk to you about your behavior at the game earlier."

"Can't that wait?" I clench my jaw, "I really can't talk ultimate soccer strategy right now." I use air quotations to mock the sentence.

Leah looks over me, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" She teases in a husky voice. "So you came over to my room, late at night... but don't want to talk soccer." She gets a devilish glint in her eye.

I ignored her comment, "You already interrupted the something with your stupid game."

"What?"

"You and your stupid games Leah! Marking my neck like I belong to you? Knowing that we had a game the next day. I had a chance with somebody, maybe even you could call it a date, now I am 90% sure that that they think I don't like them anymore because I had to rush out before they could see what you left on my neck." I run my hands through my hair in frustration.

"Well, you do." Is all she replied with.

"What?" is all I can get out in shock at the bold and completely absurd comment.

"I'm not saying that you belong to me... but you continue to put us in situations and let me do this. I have you wrapped around my little finger, and you seemed to really like the mark while I was making it" She scoffs before taking a step towards me. "don't blame your failed date on me Y/N. I guess this will just have to be a time you learn to keep your hands to yourself and stop trying to sleep with Katie. Or need I remind you of the rules of our agreement." She snaps at me.

I laugh at her, raising my hands in exasperation, "The rules? You don't seem so keen about keeping your hands to yourself, or your mouth off of me."

"Well, I made the rules didn't I Y/N. When you've worked as hard as I have, and put in the hours that I have, you're entitled to make and break any damn rule you'd like."

"Whatever Leah. Just... I don't know..." I continue pacing, my mind flying from thought to thought quicker than I can process any of them.

"Grow up, quit crying over your little girlfriend, and get your shit together. You're not a teenager anymore, this isn't your American team anymore, how many times do I have to remember the team that you've just had the opportunity to play for?"

I scoff, "Team isn't really all that it seems to be now is it? But no matter what you think Leah. You're not the coach. And you can't lie about my performance, I'm good at my job." She rolls her eyes at that.

"Keep your opinions to yourself, listen to what I tell you, and then maybe I will continue to help you."

"I think my stats could drop, my game time taken away, and you would still help me. Because as much as you try to convince yourself that you 'hate' me Leah, you can't help but touch me... can you Williamson... you want me don't you Leah?"

I glare at her, utter fury burning in my eyes, fueled by liquid courage and pent-up anger, but her confidence doesn't falter. Does it ever? She steps closer to me silently, looking me up and down.

I take in a deep breath as she walks even closer, now standing only inches away from me. Her index finger reaches out, running down from my navel, stopping right before the v-line between my hips and thighs.