Chapter 1
If she’s being honest, Natalie Scatorccio probably doesn’t even like soccer that much. It’s very much whatever. She doesn’t really watch it on TV, doesn't own any jerseys, couldn’t care less about any of these men’s leagues, and truthfully just enjoyed playing it for herself. Selfishly, the silver lining is that it kept her fit and helped her clear her head when things were stressful because man can college really blow sometimes.
That, and she was kind of a fucking beast. Why would she ever do something that she's not good at? (A little toxic, she knows). Being an attacking midfielder was fun for her. Nat pulled the strings in the center - dishing out long crosses and peachy through balls and scoring the occasional banger, because that’s what you do when you’re a dawg.
One time, she wore her Apple watch throughout a match and afterwards found out she ran about 5 miles. So naturally, she treated herself to some fucking Taco Bell because she deserved it, Baja blast and all.
Soccer lets her eat whatever shitty food she wants, clock that as another reason for her enjoyment.
She was also flexible enough to play defensive mid as well, but that was because she reveled in the occasional opportunity to be a nuisance. You could count on Natalie to take a yellow card for cleating the shit out of someone in revenge for her teammate (warranted fouls only, of course), and this was the reason for all of her high school coaches migraines (and almost all of the reasons why she did extra laps for punishment). It was worth it every time.
Okay and speaking of bangers…she kinda liked hooking up with other athletes because let’s be honest, there were many fish in the sea in soccer, both men and women (much to her content). She could fuck whoever she wanted and see them again on the pitch and interact with them as little or as much as she wanted. Soccer didn't have to be a vocal sport. She liked being able to have that control, liked meeting people in an environment she was comfortable in. All that to say you could find her playing pickup on the weekends and more often than not picking up a one night stand right after.
Now, in general, one thing has to be clear: Natalie didn’t really care for people. She especially didn’t like to get attached, (hence the one night stands) as her last relationship was with a broody ass boy named Travis who wasn’t emotionally aware and could never make her come. Typical.
That was something, considering she'd have to lamely admit that that was probably her first real love, that being with Travis at first felt tender, but it also felt like she was always teaching him something, like how to be aware of his fucking feelings and how to express them in a manner that didn't just bottleneck into anger. Not to mention the sex part most certainly wasn't giving and when she finally started exploring her sexuality, damn, she really liked fucking and being fucked by women.
Opening herself up to others though? Hard pass, pun intended.
BUT — she did like her intramural teammates. She started playing her sophomore year of college, joining a women’s 7v7 free agent team called the Yellowjackets after finding competitive soccer on campus and made a handful of good friends. She remembers putting her information up on the free agent website like it was yesterday:
Name: Nat Scatorccio
Position: Midfield - CAM or CDM but down for wtevr offense you need
Notes: Looking for something competitive, coed or women's. I'm tryna win. Played all four years on varsity in high school
Intramural soccer...committing to a sport weekly to compete. Okay, so she liked (loved) winning. Or maybe she hated losing more. Or both. The "prize" at the end of the seasons if teams won the championship were these nice Nike sponsored shirts, and the designed changed every year. What college student doesn't love a nice, soft, and free t-shirt? She had a couple now, and there was just something addicting and fun about winning them.
While she did have to weed out the weirdos emailing her just to shoot their shot (some guy tried to recruit her for a co-ed team halfheartedly just so he could try to ask her on a date), finally she had stumbled on some decency with the Yellowjackets. She'd never tell anyone either, but she enjoyed being on a team because the best way to make friends, in her humble opinion, is to go through difficult things together. Sports usually gave all the ups and downs needed to foster forever type of friendships. It took the guesswork out of things too, there was no need to small talk. Soccer was the commonality. They all got together once a week at least to work together to win. Simple.
Though, it was definitely a fairly steep learning curve at first, trying to figure out everyone’s personalities and tendencies and how they would all mesh together.
First, there was Jackie Taylor, their captain, an outspoken striker who yapped a lot. Then, there was her right hand woman, Shauna Shipman. These two were essentially a packaged deal.
Both of them occasionally annoyed Natalie, but Jackie wasn’t so bad. She at least meant well, and she was always ahead in the scheduling/planning for their team. She stayed on top of the fees and sign-up dates which is perfect because nobody else wanted that responsibility. Plus Jackie and Shauna were good at soccer and threw some decent college parties, so that’s all that really mattered.
Jackie always scolded Natalie about her occasional cigarette, as if she was some fucking professional athlete or something. She'd always say something like, don't you know those will kill you? to which Nat always annoyingly replied with "that's why I fucking do it."
Then there was Laura Lee, the team’s classic perfect Christian girl. She was the most shocking of the bunch actually. The typical blonde haired goody-two shoes who went to church every Sunday morning but also later joined a sorority. Laura Lee was one heck of a right back, turning into a completely different person on the court (but still never swearing, at least not yet. Natalie secretly hoped to help provoke it out of her and was playing the long game).
Then there was Taissa and Van, the classic lesbians of the team. They had been dating for what felt like forever. Joined at the hip and the usual U-Haul story, Taissa was an extremely rational, no nonsense type of person, and Natalie liked that about her. She was always logic first and feelings later, if at all. A real straight shooter. Van was somewhat the opposite, but they just worked. Classic black cat and golden retriever combination.
Next there was Mari, their beloved #10 who oozed sassiness and maybe a bit of cockiness, and finally, Akilah, a sweet girl who was a flexible striker. That was the skeleton of their team, and Natalie liked everyone enough to occasionally spend time with them outside of soccer.
Otherwise, sometimes they had a few extra players here and there for bigger playoff games since it was exhausting. They seemed to cycle and pick up 1-2 new girls every semester who luckily almost always gelled well within the team. There was very little drama, and you could tell that everyone who was there wanted to be there. It was senior year now, and they had won a several intramural championships and had a solid routine down.
“Like this if you can out and play tonight,” Jackie’s usual group text said. Today it immediately got a response of Shauna (they were probably right next to each other when Jackie sent it), Tai, and Van.
Natalie ponders on doing literally anything else this Friday afternoon, but then later decides fuck it, she could use some exercise to stretch her legs after being cooped up studying and working nonstop.
She was usually good about joining weekend games for fun, because maybe Natalie actually likes soccer more than she admits, and maybe it’s because she enjoys breaking the ankles of random men who inevitably join their games. Almost nothing gave her the same satisfaction as sending a male defender the wrong way or ripping through a ball with her laces and making men gasp at her goal after severely underestimating her. She hated most of them because they were almost always ball hogs and almost never passed to any of the girls.
It was a little bit better now, since she only played pickup with her squad. Bringing a few badass women on the field tended to mediate things since they knew each other, and that essentially ensured they would be able to possess the ball and play.
Nat recalls of all the times in the past where she “went to go play soccer for fun” by herself and ended up basically running the beep test - back and forth for hours on the field, screaming for the ball, only to be ignored by all the sweaty men. That always pissed her off.
The Friday crew all arrive around the same time and lace their boots together. Nat scrambles in her bag to find a hair tie, and eventually Jackie just does her a favor and hands her one of hers. “Long week Nat?”
“Hell yeah,” Natalie grumbles, accepting the scrunchie. As she throws her hair into a bun, she realizes she forgot something else. “Fuck, I left the penny bag at home.”
“That’s fine, we can do shirts versus skins,” Jackie eyes the people already congregated near them to play. “Maybe I’ll go home with someone handsome tonight,” she winks cynically, and Natalie swears she can see Shauna clenching her jaw. They always had an…interesting, homoerotic relationship. Nat swears that Shauna is in love with Jackie but ultimately, it was none of her business. Not her monkey not her circus. The last thing she wants to do is get into some lovey-dovey drama that isn’t even hers.
They set up quickly, using cones to mark the boundaries of their smaller, designated field now interspersed with a bunch of random people. It starts originally as 7v7 but eventually grew uncontrollably bigger, and next thing anyone knows, they’re playing full field 11v11 with keepers which is downright exhausting. They cap it here, shooing away groups of people flooding in and asking to play.
The other team plays down a player for a while after a person abruptly leaves for a different game, and Nat is feeling it tonight. A couple good through balls to Jackie has her absolutely pumped.
Jackie scores 2 solid goals from her assists, the first being a 1v1 against a male keeper (hell yeah Jackie), and the second was a half volley which was inches away from being upper 90. Jackie runs back nonchalantly and high-fives Nat, and even the random men on their team give them kudos. It was always a good sign when Jackie was heating up. Today was no different.
After a while, everyone takes a quick water break. Nat pours some of her water onto her face to try to rid herself of heat exhaustion. 45 minutes later of fairly intense play, and she was winded. She makes a mental note to herself to resume her morning runs before class because holy shit, her lungs are on fire.
“I can’t wait for fall season to start,” Shauna says, pulling her socks back up.
“Can’t believe it’s senior year for all of us Shipman,” Jackie swipes the water from Shayna and chugs it before tightening her hair tie. "Two more semesters of stomping everyone."
That gets a choral roar of approval.
Nat catches her breath finally and is surprised to see a tall girl approaching Jackie. She glances around to see if she came with friends or a boyfriend or something, but nope, she's all alone.
It wasn’t super common to see a bunch of girls playing pickup, especially on a Friday. The good players usually played club or were professional, collegiate athletes, and the not so great players obviously never spent their time anywhere near a soccer field.
“Mind if I join?” Her voice is low, confident, almost raspy, and it catches Natalie’s attention immediately. She looks up to see a gorgeous, curly-haired brunette with a neatly tied up high ponytail, a bag slung over her shoulder with a soccer ball wedged in it, and black cleats. Nat was a sucker for some black cleats. The less flashy the better, in her opinion. Let your game do the talking.
She definitely had to be good. Nobody wears all black cleats and sucks, right?
“Not at all,” Jackie grins, sizing her up like she’s definitely planning to recruit her to their intramural team later. “What’s your name?”
Oh Jackie and her natural captain tendencies. Always scouting. If this girl wanted to play play, Jackie was definitely about to scoop her up after assessing her game first. While she may have lucked out with Nat and some of the other girls from the free agent page, it wasn't always like this.
When Natalie first joined, their team was struggling. In the spring semester of her sophomore year, Jackie had emailed two girls from the free agent listings who claimed to have played club in high school. She made the mistake of being too lackadaisical, allowing the randos to just show up for the first game instead of seeing them actually play during a practice or something first. One showed up in only running shoes (absolutely flabbergasting for numerous reasons, because why would you ruin your Hokas like that, and where are your cleats?), and the other kicked the ball like she had two left feet.
So now, Jackie was different. She'd have to see it first. She might as well be on a real professional team the way she was running this intramural thing.
“I’m Charlotte,” the girl replies with a small, tight lipped smile. “But my friends call me Lottie,” she extends her hand, and Natalie wriggles her eyebrows, trying to decide whether she’s also extending the nickname invitation too.
“Jackie,” she says matter of fact, reciprocating the handshake. “There are my friends and teammates - Van, Taissa, Shauna, and Natalie.”
The rest of the pickup people start to step back on the pitch, so the Yellowjackets follow.
“All right Lottie," Jackie picks up the nickname immediately. It rolls off her tongue like they've always been friends. "You have to be on skins since they've been down a player. Is that okay with you?” Jackie pauses as they all look over at the numerous clammy, shirtless men. “You don’t have to take off your shirt if you don’t want to. As you can see Shauna and Tai are also on skins and are definitely clothed. There’s never that many girls here, so we can always tell who’s on who’s team.”
“Yeah we don’t cater to the male gaze,” Taissa interjects.
“I don’t either,” Lottie slyly mumbles. It’s almost inaudible, but Nat catches it and wonders if it is indeed an innuendo.
As a bisexual, Natalie would like to think she has a good gaydar. She gets ~ a vibe ~ typically and isn’t wrong often. But right now, it could go either way. Jury's still out. She does her best to sus out the usual signs: Lottie's nails aren't exactly short, but they're not super long either, no rainbow anything - everything is neutral. Her bag is tan, her Owala water bottle is several shades of green and doesn't have any stickers on it, and she hasn't seen her keys to check for a carabiner. Very little to work with here thus far.
“Usually we have pennies too, but somebody forgot them today,” she playfully shoots Natalie a look.
Natalie responds by rolling her eyes and mentally choosing which expletive to fire. When she gets up to try to defend herself, the new girl is already casually throwing off her shirt and stripping herself of her sweatpants. “It’s cool, I don’t mind,” she says before jogging onto the field.
“Damn she has ABS,” Van recites the thought verbatim from Natalie’s head loudly to where Lottie had to have heard her. It earns her a playful slap from her girlfriend straight to the deltoid.
Nat tries her best not to ogle, but Lottie dead ass has a pretty well-defined six pack. Her legs are toned too, and Nat can see some sort of thigh tattoo. She tallies that into her maybe she is queer list. There’s a faded scar on her left knee, and Nat bets it’s likely from a post ACL tear. That had to be the most gut wrenching injury to athletes, and the amount of times she’s seen it in women’s soccer infuriated her.
“Eyes over here bud,” Taissa quips, motioning two fingers towards her face before jogging off to join Charlotte and the rest of the other team.
“You know I only have the hots for you babe!” Van yells back at her.
It turns out, Charlotte was a center back. It made sense, given how fucking tall she was. Had to be a center back or striker. And fuck was she a damn good center back.
When they start back up, Nat had become more explosive, more involved in the attack because she refused to let a man blow by her or give them any reason to belittle her. Trapping a nice switch from Jackie, Natalie’s first touch is positive and easily opens up space for herself. She saunters past one defender with her head up and thinks she’s in the clear.
As she takes one further touch to set up her shot, she feels her feet being taken abruptly from under her. The ball gets tackled away first, and she hits the ground hard. She's unable to break her fall in time, and the impact hurts. She ends up rolling a bit and skidding her shin on the turf. That's definitely going to burn in the shower later.
It being friendly pickup, everyone stops for a moment to assess the situation.
“Fuck,” Natalie mumbles to herself. As she blinks herself back to reality, she looks up to see a tall figure looming over her. It's none of her usual friends/teammates - which damn, thanks guys -
It’s Charlotte. Lottie. Whatever the hell her name is. And Natalie swears she’s almost…smirking?
“You good?”
The way her lips are curling devilishly right now is making Natalie’s insides burn, like she knows she got her nasty (because she lowkey did). As for the actual tackle, it’s the kind of challenge that you’d love if that was your teammate but absolutely be irate about otherwise. She’s angry, but she also has to admit that was kind of a bad ass tackle, risky but perfectly timed from behind. Not to Charlotte though. She’d never give anyone that satisfaction. Instead, Natalie makes a vow to get her back somehow - whether it be by scoring or being a menace. Whichever way the wind blows.
Evidently her inner monologue was taking too long because she heard Lottie’s voice again. “Uh, Natalie?” She extends her hand out to help the shorter girl up.
“I’m good.” Nat brushes off the turf beads that are clinging onto her knee and moves on, ignoring Lottie's hand and keeping her tone even-keeled.
After that, Nat’s anger only seems to continue bubbling. She’s frustrated. Every time she’d run in for a cross, Lottie’d beat her there and clear it out. If she was sending in the cross herself, Lottie also cut that off. She was reading her so easily, and she was all over her - always seemingly in the right place at the right time. Her speed was annoying, her recovery was even better when beaten, her tenacity, her grit, and she knew when and how to play just dirty enough to throw the offensive player off without actually committing a foul. There were elbows thrown, arms grabbed, and many, many tackles.
Everything for the remainder of the game was LottieLottieLottie.
She was also quite vocal. Lottie had no problem directing traffic and telling her teammates when to step versus when to drop. She had a high soccer IQ, reading the plays and squashing the attack before it could even have a chance to form.
“Next goal wins!” A guy calls, as they’d been going at it for over two hours now. Fatigue was quickly seeping its way into everybody.
Go time, Nat thinks. Something in her always shifts into overdrive when there is an opportunity to win. Simply because who the fuck wants to lose? Can you imagine standing there and letting a team beat you? Absolutely not. She thrived off pressure. It fueled her with adrenaline like no other.
Van sends a ball towards Jackie who cut inside before playing it through for Natalie into space. From there, she’s in a neck and neck chase against a guy. He's handsy, but kinda awkwardly coordinated, so she's able to get there first and cuts the ball quickly. He obviously won't go down without a fight, so he desperately sticks hit foot out, and Nat gets clipped a tad. She starts wildly stumbling but regains her composure by stabilizing herself with her arms and is ultimately able to stay on her feet.
In her peripheral, she sees two teammates on either side of her drawing out the two other defenders which meant there was one left: Lottie. She had transitioned into playing sweeper, allowing her other teammates to get forward even more before this final play.
I can definitely do this, Nat thinks, and she's almost giddy with the opportunity to get revenge AND win the game. It couldn't have been a better scenario. Natalie thrived under pressure. She often took the team's penalties unless Jackie or Akilah were really feeling it that day.
Lottie shuffles in good position to defend Natalie, almost taunting her to try something. She’s annoying in the best defender-y type of way, tugging her arm and trying to yank at her shirt. It's pesky, and she gives her a little bit more space than before, like she's toying with her, and eventually Nat pounces, thinking that she has a sliver of space to make her move. She does a right foot step over and feigns her hips left which almost fools Lottie, but the defender is able to recover and tackle the ball cleanly out of bounds again.
It’s so infuriating, my god. The goofy ass, satisfied grin on Lottie’s face afterwards is even worse. Natalie wants to claw it off her face.
“Sorry babe,” Lottie laughs. She says the pet name so smoothly Natalie almost feels her heart skip a beat. Jesus.
The other team then goes quickly, taking the kick in promptly and storming down the field in transition. They earn a corner, and everyone except their keeper comes forward to try for one last chance.
The next thing she knows, Natalie is trying to defend Lottie. She obviously doesn’t have the height advantage, but she’s certainly returning the favor of being all over her. Nat nearly hooks her arm around her, they’re pressed against each other shoulder to shoulder, trading jabs almost when trying to separate from each other, and she can feel Lottie’s sweat on her arm.
Despite that, somehow, someway, Lottie looks like she hasn’t even broke a sweat. She even still smells good. Like fucking jasmine and cedar wood or something from a $250 bottle of perfume. She also must have the world’s best conditioning because after almost two hours she’s still moving around like they just started. She's still everywhere, and her movement is mercurial, unpredictable, and inexplicably dangerous.
The ball gets fizzed in with authority; there's a perfect curve on it to where the keeper can't comfortably come and claim it, and Nat tries her best to contest as she soon realizes that oh fuck, she lost her mark. Her legs feel heavy, like she's stuck in quicksand. She tries her best to recover and make the goal scoring opportunity difficult, but the moment is quick, Lottie is explosive, and she gets her head on it to score and end the night.
Sometimes, soccer can be heartbreaking in the sense that it can be a game of margins. A missed chance can be millimeters away, or a championship can be won because of a minuscule, fingertip save from a scrambling keeper.
This goal? Definitely in by a long shot.
The center back had towered over everyone, commanding the space with her aerial prowess. She redirects the ball with accuracy and authority, and it nearly scorches the back of the net. The sound of the ball from cross to finish gives Natalie chills. Game over.
Taissa is high-fiving and hugging Lottie like they’ve played together for years. “Fuck that was such a good header!” There are some oohs and ahhs to wrap up, and everyone’s filing off the field after the facility announcement that the field lights would cut off in the next 10 minutes.
“Jackie, you gotta invite her to play with us. Unless she already has a team.” Van immediately says afterwards.
"Yeah, that would suck." Tai adds.
Jackie is definitely agreeable and wastes no time walking over to Lottie, patting Natalie along the way. A pity pat. It was just pick up at the end of the day, but it still felt shitty. Especially when you’re the cause of the goal essentially.
“Hey, do you…play intramural soccer? Why haven’t we seen you around at all?” Jackie's curiosity starts fueling numerous questions.
Lottie wipes the sweat off her body with a towel before putting her shirt back on. “Oh, yeah I play on a coed team. We play on Tuesday evenings. I’ve never been out for fun though, been pretty busy I guess.” She shrugs and is so casual about it, even though clearly she’s hot shit. Everyone has eyes on her like she's some sort of show pony, and she answers the unspoken question on everyone's minds.
“I used to play D1 elsewhere before transferring here.”
There it is. She's a whole ass fucking elite athlete. Something about it spurs something inside Natalie. Maybe it was how nonchalant she was about these things, or how confident she was on the pitch. Maybe it was her nifty footwork, the way she played defense so methodically, or maybe it was just Natalie being a hater.
“Any chance you wanna play women’s 7v7 with us? We play on Sunday nights. We’re pretty good. Reigning intramural women's soccer champs.” Normally, Jackie would add a bit more fluff to the pitch. Something like oh and we're really close on and off the field, we hang out a lot, everyone gets roughly equal playing time, and so on and so forth, but Lottie seemed different. She seemed about her business with soccer, so this was a no brainer. Jackie throws in her best smile, settling the ball was in Lottie's court now.
Lottie raises an eyebrow. “Can I do both?”
“Yeah of course. You could even play men’s if you wanted. You just can’t play on multiple teams in the same category.”
There’s a moment of pondering, like Lottie’s actually considering playing men's 7v7 too, and before long, she speaks. “Sure, why not.”
The rest of the girls celebrate in a commotion, but not Natalie. Instead, she's minding her own business trying to quietly taking off her boots. She’s secretly glad too, because Lottie is clearly a good defender. She just can’t help but beat herself up and perseverate over her mistakes. Classic.
She hates when she gets like this, this mopey cycle of repeating the same play in her brain again and again until it drives her mad. Clearly she hasn't found the best way to cope with it because why is she hung up over a couple plays from a random Friday night game of soccer that is essentially meaningless - man she needed therapy pronto - and clearly she has been trying to gaslight herself into thinking she doesn't care about soccer that much so that these moments would weigh less on her. Yeah, that was a fucking bust.
Lottie exchanges numbers with Jackie and gets immediately added to their soccer group chat.
“We were all gonna probably grab food and head to Tai’s place to drink if you wanna come,” Shauna offers as they've all switched to their slides and gathered their things.
“Oh, uh, I wanted to go home and shower,” Lottie hesitates. “But I can meet you guys after? Is it like…party vibes? Or—"
“It’s more like team bonding,” Tai teases, air quoting team bonding. “Pretty lowkey really. We just hang out. May or may not head out afterwards to the bars. We’ll see. The night is young.”
“Ah," Lottie nods, quickly understanding the vibes. "In that case how could I say no? Need me to bring anything?”
“Just yourself and maybe your favorite booze,” Jackie responds before hooking arms with Shauna. “See you guys soon.”
Their exit is in tandem with Tai and Van since they all carpooled. Living in the same apartment complex has its perks. They didn't ride together all the time, but it was nice to have the option. Nat didn't live far from them, maybe like 10-15 minutes, but sometimes she craved that easy camaraderie they had being apartment neighbors essentially.
Luckily, she liked driving, and usually didn’t mind being alone, so she never felt in her feels about it too much. Natalie had always been a bit of a lone wolf anyway.
Meanwhile, Natalie is giving her body a moment to cool down. She catches bits and pieces of conversation around her but briefly closes her eyes and exhales before downing the rest of her Gatorade, allowing herself to zone out for a bit. The breeze feels good against her heated skin.
Coming back to reality, she unlocks her phone and clears some pointless social media notifications before getting interrupted.
“Are you going to said team bonding?” Lottie questions, sitting down next to her. Her voice almost startles Natalie.
“Why do you care?” Nat replies. It sounds a lot harsher than she intended it to, and she feels a bit apologetic. She couldn't help the unwarranted snap to her voice. They just met after all, so obviously Natalie's guard was up. Not that it ever really came down.
She looks over and gets a good glimpse of Lottie now. Her dark, brown eyes are currently trying (and failing miserably) to hide a glimmer of mischief, like she has no intention of backing down from Nat no matter what she says. There’s a gold necklace on her with an iridescent, heart pendant that shines depending on what angle it catches light.
“Well, I was gonna ask you for a ride,” Lottie starts, scratching her head. “A friend dropped me off earlier, so I don’t exactly have a way home.”
Why didn’t she just ask Jackie? They’re the ones that hit it off. And what kind of friend just leaves their friend somewhere without transportation? This is exactly why Nat didn’t like most people.
“Sounds like you’ve got shit friends.”
“Maybe,” Lottie laughs. “You gonna add yourself to that list by depriving me of a ride?” She pretends to pout, and why oh why is it kind of cute…
Depending on who you ask, Nat may be kind of an asshole, but it has to be provoked. Not this time. How could she say no? She sighs, standing up with her bag and jingling her keys before motioning her to follow. “All right, come on before I change my mind.”
She sees Lottie bite back a triumphant smile. “Thanks Natalie.”
Her name seems to roll off of Lottie's tongue like it was meant for her to say, and Natalie decides maybe she can throw in a little something in return. A breadcrumb.
“My friends call me Nat.”
“Oh?” Lottie’s muses, matching her stride for stride towards her car just as the lights at the field cut off.
Natalie thanks whatever divine intervention above her that she’s already sweating and red after working out because she can feel her ears start to burn and her cheeks flush. There's something confident about Lottie even off the field, and it's kind of working her up. She does her best to shake it off and quickly unlocks her vehicle, throwing her bag into the backseat. Lottie follows suit, ducking her head a bit to get into the passenger side.
Her car is messy - extra cleats in the back, a ball pump, two textbooks, a crushed up seltzer can, and a pack of cigarettes, but at least it smells good. Nat prided herself on that. She wasn't a monster.
“Sorry I’m still sweaty,” Lottie half-lies after opening the passenger seat and throwing her bag in. She smoothly takes her shirt off again and slides it underneath her so the leg perspiration doesn’t seep into Nat’s car. It’s thoughtful maybe, or perhaps a little daring and flirtatious. Nat looks closer and ends up checking out Lottie's forearm in the process.
Either way, the shorter girl swallows because she has no time to even try to object, instead averting her gaze and changing the topic immediately. She's scrambling, trying to think of any but the half-naked goddess in her car.
“Where am I taking you?” It comes out as a hybrid of a murmur and a stutter, and Jesus. Natalie can only hope she doesn't live far away because this drive hasn't even started, and it already feels long. She was about to be a goner.
Lottie cooly gives her directions and eventually Nat pulls into a dark area that definitely looks nothing like an apartment complex.
She thinks back to every true crime documentary she’s ever seen and looks back at the brunette with sheer confusion, but Lottie’s already hastily unfastening her seatbelt and reaching over to push Natalie’s seat back.
“What’re you—" is all that gets out before Lottie straddles Natalie whose eyes widened and practically crushes their lips together, interrupting any and every train of thought she has.
Before long, Lottie's lips are attacking Natalie's jaw and slowly working down towards her neck. It’s agonizingly slow with an intermix of teeth and tongue, and Nat just knows that there are going to be marks and reasons needed for explanation tomorrow, but that was most definitely a problem for future Natalie and not at all an issue for current her.
The blonde can only manage a flurry of moans in response, and she can feel Lottie smirking against her. “I told you,” she takes Nat’s hands and slides them on her own hips, encouraging her to grip.
“I wanted a ride.”
And fuck, who is Nat to object?
This girl was gonna be a huge problem.