I could feel the smile on my face wither for a second before I plastered a bigger one on top of it.
Well.
That was embarrassing.
I looked back over at Franz and Alejandro, unsure of what to do since Kulti was being weird. “Thank you guys for coming. I appreciate it more than you can imagine. If there’s anything I can ever do for either of you, please let me know.” The bright smile I gave them was genuine. I held my arms out, knowing that at least the Spaniard would give me a hug. He’d given me one before.
He didn’t leave me hanging. A little damp and sweaty, Alejandro stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a gentle hug. “Fue un placer ver te otra vez, linda.”
I looked up at him when he started to pull away and smiled. “Always,” I replied in Spanish. “Thank you again.”
We had barely pulled away from each other when Franz stepped forward and grabbed me for a big hug, lifting me off the ground. “Thank you for having me.” He set me back down, his hands splayed wide on my shoulders as he took a step back. “I’ll be at your game this evening. I’m looking forward to seeing you play.”
My eyes went wide, but I nodded. “That’s great and a little nerve-wracking. Thanks.” Glancing down at my watch, I made a face. “Speaking of which, I should really get going so I can get ready.” I took another step back and grinned at the two men before returning my attention to Kulti.
Kulti, who was standing there with his tongue in his cheek, had his arms crossed over his chest. He was pissed. I could recognize it by the way his eyes were narrowed.
What the hell did he have to be mad at? Was he mad because I tried to play around with him in front of his friends? It was fine in front of my family, but not in front of people he knew? I brushed it off and ignored his expression, saying, “Thank you for everything, Rey.” Because I was thankful, that much was true. I just wished he wasn’t acting strange in front of his friends.
* * *
A hand touched my arm as I made my way toward the locker rooms following our Pipers’ game that night.
I blinked and then grinned, still on a high from our win. “Hey, Franz.”
The older German stood on the other side of the railing that separated the stands from the players making their way down the ramp to the locker rooms. “Salomé,” he shook his head, smiling a gentle smile that made me feel so at ease. “Your videos don’t do you justice. Your footwork and your speed are fantastic.”
What was it with all these compliments lately?
Before I could digest it, Franz kept right on going. “You favor your right foot too much. I do as well. I know some tricks I could show you. Are you free tomorrow?”
Franz Koch wanted to show me some tips. I would never say no to someone offering to give me pointers. “Yeah, definitely. I’m free all day tomorrow.”
“Excellent. I’m not familiar with this city. Do you know where we can meet?”
“Yes, yes.” If I sounded too enthusiastic, I didn’t give a single shit. Not a single itty bitty one. I rattled off the name of the park and after repeating it twice, I typed it onto the smart phone he handed me.
The second German man to come into my life smiled as he took his phone back with a nod. “Tomorrow at nine if that’s agreeable with you.”
Oh. Boy.
On the inside, I was squealing with excitement; on the outside, I hoped I only resembled a little bit of an idiot. “That definitely works for me. Thank you.”
When I caught Kulti’s attention in the locker room, I almost opened my mouth to tell him that I was meeting up with Franz the next day, but from the look on his face, I decided to keep my mouth shut. He’d looked consistently angry since we’d said goodbye at the youth soccer camp, and I had no idea what the hell had crawled up his butt and died.
Needless to say, I decided when I was back at home that I wasn’t going to bother trying to figure it out.
I had tried to be playful with him and he’d been a bratwurst, so whatever. Whatever.
* * *
I was dying.
Oh my God, I was dying. Nearly three hours of doing various drills with and against Franz had almost killed me. Death was on the cusp, I could feel it.
“How old are you again?” I asked as we both sat cross-legged across from each other at the park closest to my house.
“Forty-four.”
“Jesus Christ.” I laughed and put my hands behind my back to recline. “You’re amazing, seriously.”
“No.” He mirrored my movement. “You are. With time and better coaching…” He shook his head. “Reiner said you don’t play for the American team. Why?”