Offside With My Enemy

Chapter 2

Angel's POV

I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself as I stood outside Blackthorne FC's training ground the following Monday morning.

I had accepted Adrian Vale's offer.

The money was good, the opportunity was even better, and the chance to investigate my father's past was too important to ignore.

Still, I could have chosen another assignment.

Unfortunately, my bank account didn't care about my hatred for Adrian.

"You're early," a familiar voice said behind me.

I closed my eyes briefly.

Please, God, give me patience.

I turned to find Adrian walking towards me in a black tracksuit, his hands tucked into his pockets. His hair was slightly messy, and he looked annoyingly attractive for someone who had probably just rolled out of bed.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm here to work."

His lips curved into a smile. "Good morning to you too, Angel"

"Where is your communications director? I need the schedule for today's shoot."

"You could have said good morning first."

"And you could have sent me the schedule yesterday."

He chuckled.

I hated that sound.

"Come with me. I'll show you around."

"I can find my way."

"Of course you can. But you don't know where you're going."

I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it again.

He had a point.

I followed him through the training complex, making sure to keep a reasonable distance between us. He showed me the gym, the changing room entrance, the press area, and the training pitch.

Several players greeted him as we walked past.

"Captain!" one of them called. "Who's the beautiful lady?"

I stopped walking.

Before I could respond, Adrian turned towards the player.

"Someone who is here to work. So get your mind out of the gutter, Malik."

Malik Drew grinned at me.

"Sorry, beautiful. I didn't know the captain was keeping you all to himself."

"I'm not keeping anyone," Adrian replied sharply.

I raised an eyebrow.

Interesting.

Malik laughed and walked away, but not before giving me another charming smile.

I turned to Adrian. "Does he always talk like that?"

"Unfortunately."

"At least he's friendly."

Adrian looked at me.

"Are you saying I'm not?"

"I'm saying you should try it sometime."

He shook his head, smiling as we continued towards the pitch.

The morning shoot began with footage of the players warming up. I interviewed several team members before Adrian's session started. He was focused and disciplined, moving across the field with the confidence of someone who understood exactly what he was doing.

I had to admit he was good.

Very good.

His teammates listened when he spoke, and his movements were sharp and controlled. When he scored during a practice drill, the players cheered.

He celebrated with them, laughing freely.

For a moment, he looked different from the arrogant man I knew.

Then he caught me watching.

His smile turned mischievous.

"Enjoying the view, Angel?"

I immediately lowered my camera.

"Don't flatter yourself. I was recording the training session."

"Of course."

"Would you like me to interview someone else?"

"No. I enjoy having your attention."

I stared at him.

He winked before running back onto the pitch.

Unbelievable.

By noon, I was exhausted. I had recorded hours of footage, interviewed six players, and endured Adrian's unnecessary comments whenever he passed my camera.

During my lunch break, I sat beneath a tree and opened my food container.

"Mind if I join you?"

I looked up.

Malik stood beside me, holding a bottle of water.

"Not at all."

He sat beside me and immediately stole a piece of chicken from my food.

"Excuse me!"

He laughed. "I was checking whether your food tasted as good as it looked."

"And what did you discover?"

"That I should have brought my lunch."

I shook my head, laughing despite myself.

We talked about football, journalism, and the challenges of working around famous athletes. Malik was easy to talk to, and unlike someone else I knew, he didn't seem to believe every conversation needed to become a competition.

Unfortunately, our peaceful lunch didn't last.

"Malik, training resumes in ten minutes."

Adrian stood a few feet away, looking directly at his teammate.

Malik checked his watch.

"We still have twelve minutes, Captain."

"Ten now."

I nearly choked on my drink.

Malik laughed, stood up, and winked at me.

"See you later, Angel."

"See you."

As he walked away, Adrian's gaze followed him before returning to me.

"Having fun?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He turned to leave.

I frowned. "What's your problem?"

He stopped.

"I don't have a problem."

"Then stop acting like a jealous boyfriend."

His eyes widened slightly before he let out a short laugh.

"Trust me, sweetheart. If I were your boyfriend, you would know."

Heat rushed to my face, and I immediately hated myself for it.

"That will never happen."

"Never is a very long time."

"Not long enough."

I packed my lunch and walked past him, refusing to acknowledge the smile on his face.

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly, until I finished reviewing my footage and discovered that one of my cameras had failed to record an important interview.

I groaned in frustration.

"Problem?"

I looked up to find Adrian standing behind me.

"My camera malfunctioned. I need to repeat an interview."

"With whom?"

"You."

He raised an eyebrow. "Lucky me."

"Don't get excited. I need five minutes."

"Anything for you."

I ignored the comment and positioned the camera.

The interview began professionally. I asked about his career, his leadership responsibilities, and his ambitions for the season. His answers were thoughtful, and for once, he didn't try to annoy me.

Then I asked, "Do you ever regret the decisions you've made in the past?"

His expression changed.

"Everyone has regrets."

"Do you believe an apology is enough to correct a mistake?"

"Not always."

"Then what is?"

He looked directly into the camera before turning his attention to me.

"Accepting responsibility. And being willing to face the consequences."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I wondered whether he was thinking about my father.

Before I could ask another question, the communications director called him away.

Adrian stood, then paused beside my chair.

"See you tomorrow, Angel"

"I'll try to survive."

He smiled.

"You will. You're tougher than you look."

"And you're more irritating than you appear."

He laughed and walked away.

I watched him for a second before returning my attention to the footage.

Six weeks.

I had to spend six weeks around that man.

And judging by the way my heart had reacted to his stupid smile earlier, I was beginning to suspect that uncovering his secrets might not be the only problem I would face.

Because Adrian Vale was arrogant, infuriating, and entirely too attractive.

And I had a terrible feeling that he knew exactly what he was doing.