They were too close for comfort and even as I started my car, they were brave enough to stand directly behind my car’s bumper. Little did they know I wasn’t above backing over nasty reporters. Spoiler: the rest of this story takes place from a jail cell.

“I can’t believe that,” Becca said from the back seat.

“When they want to talk about our soccer skills I'll be more than willing to give 161/890

them an interview,” I huffed, clicking my seatbelt into place with a bit too much force.

“Agreed,” Becca said with a scowl.

As I backed up out of my spot, I turned around to see Tara still standing with the reporters. I’d forgotten about her during our trek to the car. All of the cameras were trained on her and she had a smile that practically engulfed her entire face. I think the girl had found nirvana.

…

"So do you guys want to come with me to the spa?" I asked Becca and Emily later that afternoon. We’d survived the first week of practice and now it was time to celebrate.

"Yes!" Becca yelled, jumping off the bed.

I knew she'd be game.

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"That'd be fun, but my boyfriend is coming into town for the weekend and I have to go get him from the airport," Emily frowned.

"Is he staying at the house?" I asked as she leaned against the doorway that separated my room from our shared bathroom.

"Yes," Emily began lightly, "if that's okay? I know it sucks to share a bathroom with a guy, but you say the word and we'll go get a hotel."

"Of course it's fine. Becca and I won't be home until late tonight and then there's that party tomorrow, so take advantage. You can have full-on kinky bathroom sex, just clean up afterward.” I managed to say most of that with a straight face.

All right, yes, I purposely crossed the line with Emily because it was just too fun 163/890

making her blush at the mention of sex. I still couldn't believe that out of all of us, she was the most sexually active.

"I bet you're a freak in the sheets," Becca said with a suggestive wink.

Emily's face was now officially on fire.

"Oh my god, you guys can't talk like that! His dad's a preacher and David is really shy."

Becca and I gave each other a knowing glance. "Yup, they definitely have kinky sex.

Preacher-son-kinky-sex," Becca said, and we lost it for another minute.

“I bet he’s the only boy who could ever teach her,” I said with a devious smile.

Becca shot me a sly grin and then added,

“yeah… I think that’s because he’s the son of a…”

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“PREACHER MAN,” we both sang in harmony before cracking up.

“Guys!” Emily stomped her foot on the ground, making the entire situation ten times funnier. But eventually, I pulled myself together, stood up, and put my hands on Emily's shoulders.

"I swear to go easy on him.”

"Yeah. Yeah. See you guys later, have fun at the spa!" Emily called as we tromped down the stairs.

"I'll definitely split it with you," I promised as we pulled up in front of the fancy building.

"Don't worry about it. My mom doesn't mind if I get a massage every now and then.

She knows it helps work out the knots from soccer."

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"Awesome, then we can splurge on other stuff."

"Let's get Brazilians," Becca suggested with a straight face as we hopped out of the car.

"A Brazilian wax? Hell no."

"What? You don't get them?" Becca asked, clearly surprised.

Sorry, but I don’t need my hair ripped out by some rando in the back room of a sketchy waxing place.

"Nope."

"Oh my god, you're getting one! You have to try it at least once and it'll be good to get one now while it's summer. We can even go to the beach tomorrow and show them off."

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I gave her a pointed stare. "How do you show off a Brazilian wax, Becca? 'Hey everyone, check out my shiny vagina' ?"

Becca burst out laughing. "Okay, that sounded dumb. But seriously, I'm making you get one. If you hate it, you don't have to get another one."

I knew she’d end up getting her way, so I didn’t bother fighting it. I was mildly curious about it anyway.

I knew the spa would be high-end, but when we stepped inside, I felt like we were out of place. Soft music played from hidden speakers as water trickled down the side of an intricate fountain built into one of the walls. There was no one else in the waiting room except for a receptionist stationed behind the front desk wearing a calm smile.

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“How can I help you two?” she asked with a sugary voice as we crossed the room.

“Oh hi. I have a gift certificate that I’d like to use to get an hour massage and a waxing session, please.”

“What type of wax would you prefer: a Standard Bikini, Brazilian, or a French Wax?”

I coughed and swung my head over my shoulder to check if the waiting room was still empty. It felt like I was screaming about getting my anus bleached or something.

“She wants a Brazilian wax,” Becca filled in for me with a conspiratorial smile.

"So an hour massage and one waxing session," the zenned-out woman repeated from behind the counter. Her face was stoic and completely pore free. I bet she got a 168/890

facial twice a day, every day. "Would you like to do the waxing session first?"

"Oh, good idea.” I wouldn't be able to enjoy the massage otherwise.

"Same for me," Becca smiled, and the woman worked us into the system.

Since we didn’t have appointments, we were told to change into robes and slippers, and then “calm our chakras” in the relaxation room until they were ready for us. I didn’t know if my chakra needed calming, but before we headed toward the room, I paused.

"Becca, go on ahead, I'll be right there,” I said, holding up my phone as if I had to make a call. She nodded and went on without me. I felt a tinge of guilt about lying 169/890

to her, but I had one last thing to do before heading to change.

I turned back toward the receptionist with a warm smile.

"Could I ask you for a favor?" I asked gently.

She glanced up from her computer and mimicked my smile. "Of course."

"I was given this gift certificate a while ago and I can't remember who gave it to me.

I'd like to send them a thank you card...

Could you help me find out the name?"

I’d thought about what the best approach would be while we were heading over, and I didn't think that question set off any red flags.

"Oh certainly, I can give you the last name on the card that was used to purchase 170/890

the certificate. Would that help?" she asked with her same calm smile.

"That'd be great," I answered, handing it over to her. She typed away on her computer for a minute before smiling.

"All right, it looks like a Mr. Wilder purchased the certificate, but that was only a few days ago. Were you mistaken about when you received it?"

Her voice drifted out after the name

“Wilder” passed her lips.

I couldn't even process the second half of her sentence.

Holy.

Mr. Wilder.

Liam-freaking-drop-my-panties-Wilder had taken the time to give me a belated birthday present.

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My breathing sounded awkward when I finally muttered a response. "Oh, ha-ha, I guess I was confused about another gift certificate. Thanks."

I didn't even wait for her to say anything else before darting toward the changing room. I fumbled through the process of changing into a robe and slipping on the spa's sandals. My brain felt frozen in shock; like that bit of information had thrown a cog into my whole system.