“You won’t get that many chances, Trace and Kaos. You either bury those goals, or we can kiss qualification goodbye,” Kire warned when Kaos kicked a shot right into the opponent’s goalie’s open hands.
Minutes later, Bowell skidded past the five-man midfield and added one more goal to make the score line three to nil in their favor.
“Hey! Call Trace,” Amberly yelled at Kire from the touchline.
“Trace! Amberly wants to talk to you,” Kire called to Trace.
“Hey, baby,” said Trace, beaming. He jogged across the field as Bowell celebrated their last goal.
“Kiss me,” Amberly ordered.
“Well, that’s a girl who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants,” Kire muttered to himself when he saw the steely gaze in Amberly’s blue eyes.
Trace leaned down and kissed her. She then pushed him away roughly
