Her sweet strawberry scent lingers in the air around us, her glossy hair gliding across her tanned shoulders as she asks, “What are you doing?”
Her pupils are dilated, and she takes a heavy breath.
My nostrils flare.
I want to tell her how fucking beautiful she looks. How tempting she looks. But there are so many reasons why that can’t happen.
She’s twenty-five, in the prime of her life. She doesn’t belong in a place like Missarali. She’s too good for it. Too good for me.
My fingers pull the cupboard open—my elbow just skimming the side of her head—and I grip a mug and step back. “I needed a mug,” I tell her, my throat thick.
Mae blinks, her lips creating an‘O’shape as she quickly steps aside, giving me space.
She hadn’t picked up on myverysubtle hint to move out of my way. And by subtle, I mean practically non-existent. I’m perfectly aware I could have made her do so with a quick, “Excuse me.”
But perhaps there was a part of me that didn’t want to—just to give me an excuse to get closer to her for even just a second.
“Sam, come on!” I yell across the field as he’s tackled to the ground, but he manages to pass the ball at the last second, giving Evan the opportunity to score a passing touchdown.
The crowd goes wild—flailing limbs and mouths so wide they could catch flies. The stands are packed. People have painted their faces red and white—our team’s colours. Banners and flags flutter in the air as the clock counts down to zero, indicating The Missarali Storks have won the game by a longshot.
Thank fuck. We needed this big of a win.
We’re crawling our way back up. It’s not exactly where I want us to be confidence-wise, but this is a huge step up for us. We’re showing everyone that we’re serious about this. We want to win. Football is our priority.
Bennett engulfs me in a bear hug, yanking out his mouthguard and whacking me on the back of the helmet as a friendlycongratulations.
I don’t bother scanning the crowd for my father. He’s not here today, and I know for a fact it’s the reason I’ve played well. I haven’t been put off by his scrutiny.
Once in the locker room, freshly showered and wearing dark jeans and a sweatshirt, Darrell enters, beckoning me with his finger.
“What’s up?”
“Riley’s asking for you.” There’s a big grin on my coach’s face.
Although we were playing against the Pittsburgh Pilots today, they’re a team we’re pretty friendly with.
Riley, their captain, is an asswipe, though. We have a cordial relationship with one another, but he’s too cocky for his own good, and he enjoys talking up our fake rivalry to the cameras, claiming it makes the game more entertaining for everyone involved. I, however, dislike the drama he enjoys creating.
As I exit the locker room, Riley’s sly, smiling form comes into eyeline.
“Slater,” he says, clapping his hand on my back. “You guys put up a good fight out there. Seems we weren’t lucky enough today.”
“I don’t think luck has much to do with it, Donovan.”
He booms with laughter. “Thanks, Nathan. You always know how to perk me up.” He pauses. “Listen, a few of the guys and I are heading out for a drink, so why don’t you and your teammates join us?”
Riley must sense my reluctance because he pushes my shoulder playfully. “Oh, come on. What do you actually do with your free time? You’re never seen out. Ever.”
I nod. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Riley, what the hell are you doing on our side of the stadium?” Bennett’s loud voice thunders from behind me, a broad smile on his face as he wraps his arm around Riley’s shoulder.
“Just trying to convince your captain here to come out for a drink with us.”
Bennett eyes me up, chuckling. “I’m down for that. As long as we promise there’ll be no football talk.”
I huff. Bennett can be impulsive sometimes, and I know he tends to say things he shouldn’t when he feels comfortable, so in reality, he needs someone there to keep him in check. “Ask Sam if he’ll go with you guys. I’d rather go home and do anything else.”
