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Summary
Gabi pedaled toward the field like a man on a mission, weaving through the usual evening crowd of dog walkers and families with strollers with a cheerful determination. It was engineers tonight, really the worst sort, a team they’d faced and lost to several times already. Fucking ruthless, all clinical precision and smile while you do it, too. But it didn’t hurt, did it, that they had a defender that was just about every one of Gabi’s fantasies all put together, all tall and blond with a quick smile and even quicker reflexes.
The first time Nico had laid him on his ass, Gabi had thought he’d died and gone to heaven, Nico looming over him like an angel, a very sweaty, very German angel wearing a wicked grin and a faded Thomas Müller jersey under his red pinny. It’d been game over for Gabi at that moment, like a final dagger at ninety plus five, no turning back now.