Free The Boyfriend List by R.S. Novelle, Renee Novelle Page B

found herself being lead
down the long maze of hallway corridors that took her deep into the back of the
building toward the practice fields. When they finally stopped in front of the
metal double doors, her heart began to thump hard against her rib cage at the
handwritten sign posted there.
    Soccer practice in main field today .
    The
woman stopped and looked at Reagan, her expression clearly anticipating
something from her...if only she could figure out what. Reagan, however, merely
looked back at her with a blank face. Then she glanced at the sign with arched
brows, then back to the woman again. Her confusion was becoming evident, as was
her internal concern that this reporter she was playing was expected to have
something to do with the soccer team today. She hadn’t prepared herself to get that close to Brett when she’d
formulated her plan. Everything had just gotten incredibly real.
      “Through there, then out the door at the
back.” The woman finally answered to Reagan’s silent question.
    Reagan
blinked at her, staring blankly. “What’s through there?”
    “The
team you’re going to interview.”
    She
knew what the answer would be before she even asked the question. “I’m
interviewing the soccer team?” Her voice was just a little more nervous than
she would’ve liked, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d just had her worst fear
realized.  
    “The
paper didn’t give you your assignment?” It was the woman’s turn to be confused.
    But
all Reagan could do was stare at the sign, unable to tear her eyes off of it as
she summoned the courage to see this act through to the end. “Not exactly.” It
wasn’t a lie at least.
    “Well,
the team’s out there, and they’re waiting for you.” With that, she turned and
walked back down the hall with her silent shoes, leaving Reagan to figure out the
rest on her own.
    “Thanks.”
She said, more to herself than for the woman’s benefit. Sighing in
determination, she pushed her way through the double doors, which led her
through to a weight room that screamed with the school colors and mascot. A
quick look around proved it to be empty, so she followed the administrative
lady’s directions and scurried quickly through to the other side where she
spotted the second set of doors that would supposedly lead her out to the main
practice field.
    And
right on cue, a voice from behind her – rough and obviously male this
time – stopped her in her tracks before she had time to slip through unnoticed.
    “You
there.” The voice declared. Though startled, Reagan stopped and contemplated what
exactly she’d done that’d messed up her karma so badly this week. “You’re that
reporter, right? You’re early.”
    It
was easy to determine that the squat man standing in front of her must have
been a coach of sorts – the ill-fitting gray t-shirt and blue shorts,
along with the infamous whistle that hung on a long cord around his neck was a
dead giveaway. The farmer’s tan from hours spent in the practice field was just
an added bonus.
    “I’m
sorry?” She wasn’t sure if the apology was necessary or expected, but she
offered it nonetheless just to be safe.
    “Good
trait.” He stated with a confident nod, ignoring her response. “Wish my players
would learn it. Well, don’t just stand there, let’s go.”
    Afraid
to do anything but follow him, she
stepped into his path, through the doors and out into the blinding sunlight
where several groups of guys had congregated around the field to practice
various techniques. All of it looked foreign to Reagan, and she was most
definitely, undeniably outside her comfort zone now. Scanning the crowd
quickly, she found half a dozen individuals with blond hair racing across the
field. All were too far away to see clearly, but she was hopeful at least one
was Brett.
    “All
of my boys aren’t here right now, it’s that time thing I told you about.” He
explained with a wink. “But you can start with the lead