Chapter 13

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When when we all got off the bus, it was about dinner time. The team was chattering about how exhausted and hungry they were. I was lingering behind talking with Jules and Con when I got dragged away by someone, then they pinned me against a wall on the shady side of a building in with their hand covering my mouth. I looked up to see who it was and it was Olaf Sanderson. He was cautiously looking around the area when I slapped his hand, making him uncover my mouth.

"What the hell kinda move was that?! Fucking drag me to the shady side of a damn building." I brushed myself off as he stood inches in front of me, trying to keep my face concealed with his body.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't risk anything. If we were seen together, both of our heads would be on a silver platter." He then stepped back, giving me space.

"Well, ya could have been a bit more discrete with dragging me away instead of acting like an ax murderer going to chop me up in a God damn alley." I then pulled down my light wash jean shorts a bit before looking up at the blond to get a good look at him.

"Well I'm sorry, but I really wanted to say sorry about your friend's wrist-" He folded his arms over his chest, making his muscles pop out slightly from his black Polo button-up with Iceland's flag on the chest pocket.

"Ya, that was a real dick move of you, ya asshole!" I snapped at him, hitting his chest with my hand, then I balled it into a fist.

"Is he alright at least?" He cocked his head, every time I insulted him, he'd slightly scrunched his face.

When Olaf asked that question, my attitude changed quickly, "Yes," I said softly, placing my hands on my hips, nodding slightly. "He's alright, but that doesn't change shit!" I started softly, then changing back to my aggressive attitude. "And I don't think I can ever forgive you either," I said lowly, clearly pissed off at him then I examined him further.

Olaf was wearing that black Polo shirt, quarter sleeves, khaki pants being held up by a black belt with a silver buckle, and Converse. His body was well sculpted because his muscles could be seen through his Polo shirt. His arms, I found, were something I found very attractive, well-chiseled, big, they probably felt protective, and warm too if I was wrapped in them. Same with his hands, big, protective, and warm.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a low seductive chuckle coming from Olaf, "See something you like, darling?"

I looked at him and clenched my jaw, "Not really."

He clicked his tongue, "Shame, I have many great physical qualities women find attractive and sexy," He then brushed through his light blond hair while slightly flexing his muscles which made me sigh from his actions and roll my eyes. "Anyway, to make up my incident to you, how about you pick and day, time, and place you would like to go to-"

I was a bit flustered at what he was proposing, "Is Olaf Sanderson asking me on a date?" I raised my brow, cocking my head a bit before placing my hands on my hips, tapping my foot anxiously on the ground.

"Maybe." He then winked at me before putting his hand on the wall behind me, smirking down at me.

"Ok," I slightly nodded my head, biting my lower lip. "I'll think about it," Then looking up at the towering blond who was smiling widely at my response. "I have to go, we have a game against Germany to win."

"Right, right," He nodded and stood up straight again. "I'll be seeing you again very soon, Vicki." He then picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles while his eyes were fixated on mine.

Then he slowly started kissing his way up my hand, stopping at my wrist, letting his bottom lip slide against my skin before walking off. He left me speechless and my hand still in the same spot.

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 - 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 - 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘 2Where stories live. Discover now