Dirty Little Bastard

31

I was definitely not a natural.

I hadn't a clue as to how I'd let us get into this situation; how I had let things escalate so far.

"Slowly, Scarlett," he told me carefully, eyes moving between the football at my feet and my eyes, "pass it to me. You're doing great."

A nervous breath left my lips, and I retreated my right foot. Theo was only a few steps away, but it would still be a miracle if I got the ball to him.

I squeezed my eyes shut after my foot made contact with the ball, too afraid to see what direction it had decided to roll. Before I had closed my eyes, I could have sworn it began moving to the side, and not at Theo.

"Open your eyes, love," he chuckled, and I did what he'd told me. I saw him standing there, with the ball at his feet.

"You passed it straight to me. You're a natural."

A part of me knew he had just gone to quickly get the ball from wherever it had rolled and brought it back to where I had been supposed to pass it. All to make me feel more comfortable playing football.

The only reason - after he had returned from the press conference and I was done with my studying - that I had been the one to even suggest football as an activity for us, was because I wanted him to be happy.

Even if he wouldn't show it, I knew he felt low considering he'd be missing the first week of games in Russia, where his team already was. I couldn't be sure if this was the best way to take his mind off it or make him feel better, but I was still willing to try.

"I knew this wouldn't be too hard," I smiled victoriously, "I mean, you score during every game..."

I was feeding his ego, hoping that he knew that a small sprain didn't change the fact that he was one of the top football players in the world.

"Football isn't just about scoring, birdie. Team work and communication are very important, too," he shook his head at me a bit, grinning lightly.

The bandage around his sprained ankle was still on, but I could already see improvement in the way he walked. I was still making sure he would continue applying ice onto it daily, as well as switching the bandage.

I was still wearing his sweatpants and hoodie, and he was still wearing the clothes he'd had during the press conference. All in all, I looked like a hobo while he was nothing short of undeniably sexy.

"I want to learn how to score, though," I shrugged, "I want to be just as good as you."

I had been expecting us to go out onto his backyard to kick a ball around, but instead he had brought me to the lowest level in his house, where he - I kid you not - had a full on country club going on.

Well, not literally. He did, though, have a full gym, a swimming pool, sauna... countless other facilities and activities I had no idea he would even have time for.

There was an opening where a small goal stood by the wall, where we were now.

"I'm going to pass the ball back to you now, alright?" He was making sure I was still following him.

I was focusing on the way he was effortlessly and casually moving the ball with his feet, staying in the same spot a few steps away from me.