The Striker (Gods of the Game, #1)

by Ana Huang

I could practically see Tamara unclenching her butt cheeks after every practice, and I didn’t hear any more mutters from the rest of the staff.

If I died, I had the relief of oblivion. I wouldn’t experience pain or sadness; I would simply be gone. But if someone I loved died, I’d have to live without them forever. The pain of that would eclipse anything else I’d ever felt—especially