The Striker (Gods of the Game, #1)

by Ana Huang

To loving every version of yourself, even the ones you want to leave behind.

He commanded attention the way no one else did. It was dangerous.

“I’m afraid flirting is part of my nature, darling.”

“Wow,” Carina said once we were out of earshot. She didn’t have to elaborate. For better or worse, I knew exactly what she meant.

“Don’t call me darling.” “What about honeybun?” “No.” “Madame?” “No.” “Tinkerbell?”

“We’re also, pound for pound, some of the strongest athletes in the world. So believe me when I say I will kick you and it will hurt.”

She’s fine. She had no reason to lie, and even if she wasn’t feeling well, she was capable of taking care of herself. So why did I feel worried?

When I was onstage, I didn’t overthink; I simply moved.

“I have other things I could do,” he said. “I wouldn’t say they’re better.”

“That wasn’t dizziness. You were in pain.” Asher’s eyes darkened. “Are you still in pain?”

It was funny how a life-changing moment for one person was nothing more than a blip on the news for someone else.

He wasn’t my brother’s nemesis or my trainee—he was the person who’d carried me up three flights of stairs, stayed with me until I regained consciousness, and didn’t make me feel like an object of pity when I told him about my accident. And that’s exactly why he’s dangerous.

The most unexpected thing I’d encountered today wasn’t our impromptu trip to Asher’s house or the contents of the new studio; it was his thoughtfulness.

“I could handle it if they were just coming after me. I know what I signed up for,” Asher said. “But you’re getting caught up in this mess, and that’s not fucking okay.”

“Every brave act is stupid until it succeeds.”

If her smile was a burglar, her laugh was a fucking thief because I was pretty sure she just stole a piece of my heart from right out under me.

She was letting her guard down, and I’d be damned if I did anything to ruin that.

“What are you afraid of, Scarlett?” The question slipped out, quiet yet filled with certainty. Her physical limitations weren’t her biggest obstacles; her fears were. I’d known someone who’d let his fears control him. I couldn’t get through to him, and he took those fears to his grave.

I didn’t care if she was livid with me. I’d let someone I cared about down once; I wasn’t going to do it again. Scarlett wasn’t my best friend, girlfriend, or family, but I didn’t need a label to know that I did care about her.

“The point is, your injuries don’t define who you are. Maybe you’re not the same dancer anymore, but who says you have to be? Growth isn’t always linear, and I’ve seen you in the studio. I think you’re still pretty damn incredible.”

“I think you’re capable of more than you give yourself credit for,” I said. “But at the end of the day, you have to ask yourself what you’d regret more—trying and failing, or not trying at all?”

That wasn’t true anymore, but a girl could dream. Sometimes, dreams were all we had.

Oh, one more thing.” Asher paused and looked her straight in the eye. “Disrespect her again, and I’ll make sure this is the last event you’ll ever work in London.”

My knee in his groin. I wasn’t a violent person, but when it came to Scarlett being hurt, my values unraveled. I get why you’re so twisted up about her. If he only knew.

“I’ve only called one woman that and meant it.”

I wanted to be anywhere else, as long as I was alone with her.

I wanted Scarlett. She wanted me. Yes, our relationship would have obstacles, and yes, overcoming them seemed impossible, but fuck it, how would we know unless we tried? Impossible things happened every day. Look at Eldorra’s royal couple. They overcame a centuries-old law to be together.

Every problem had a solution. I was determined to find ours. But in the meantime…

Heart: one. Mind: zero. No one had ever looked at me like that, like they could see past all my shields and pretenses to the imperfections I fought to hide. Like those imperfections didn’t matter, and not only did they not matter, but they were a reason for appreciation instead of an obstacle. It was the first time anyone had seen me for me.

“I came back for you.” Simple. Honest. Raw.

He wasn’t trying to care; he simply did.

Asher’s company made my bachelorette flat feel just a little less lonely. “What are your plans for the day?” I asked, taking what I hoped was a casual sip of tea. “Hanging out with you,” Asher said easily. “If you want me to, of course.” Oh, he was good. Not only that, he was genuine, which made it that much worse for my poor heart.

I couldn’t control the messes in my life, but I could clean them up at home.

“I would hate to lose you.”

“But not everything needs to be rational to be true.”

That morning, he said he liked seeing the unguarded version of me. The reverse was also true. This was the Asher the world didn’t get to see. The raw, vulnerable one who hurt and felt like everyone else.

We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. Sometimes, actions were enough.

We meant we were in this together. I wasn’t alone.

“This is a pre-date.” Asher’s darkly amused stare crept under my skin, flustering me. “When I take you on our first date, you’ll know.”

He always knew what I was thinking without me having to say it.

“That’s my girl.” That’s my girl. Three words shouldn’t have the power to undo me, but they did.

“A cooking class.” Asher’s eyes sparkled. “You love structure, and there’s nothing more structured than cooking. Look at any recipe. It’s literally a step-by-step guide.” His reasoning was so unexpected yet so perfect that I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

didn’t feel any pressure to be “witty enough” or “charming enough”—not that I ever felt that pressure with Asher, but it was nice to spend time with him in an intimate yet casual environment.

Physical attraction and romantic feelings aside, I just liked hanging out with him. Some people drained my energy if I was around them too long, but he lit me up.

“I’m sorry, darling. You’re beautiful, talented, and wonderful in so many ways, but ever since you told me you thought it was impossible to overcook shrimp…I figured it was better to be safe than sorry.”

It wasn’t about what he did so much as how he made me feel—like I was safe, worthy, and cherished. Like I could share my deepest secrets and ugliest thoughts without diminishing myself in his eyes.

And beneath that picture, written in neat, blue frosting cursive, were three words. Justice for Pluto.

I hated that I’d played a part in her discomfort. I’d pay any amount of money to take away her pain—not just her physical ones, but the mental and emotional ones too.

She’s fine. Like she said, she’d tell me if she wasn’t, and I didn’t want to assume I knew her body better than she did. If there was one thing Scarlett couldn’t stand, it was people pitying or babying her. She didn’t need that. Regardless of her physical condition, she was one of the strongest people I knew.

It wasn’t about what we said or did; it was about what we felt.