“Planning to use your chest as a backboard?” Mattie asks, but he’s grinning.
We move into a practice game, and suddenly, muscle memory takes over.
The ball comes to me off Declan’s shoulder and my foot finds it perfectly. I manage to thread between two defenders into the space where Declan’s already sprinting. He doesn’t even have to break stride before slotting it past the goalie.
“Yes!” Declan pumps his fist.
The next twenty minutes fly by. My body apparently remembers everything—when to check my shoulder, how to weight a pass, the exact angle to approach a defender.
Sweat drips into my eyes, but I don’t care because, for once, nobody’s looking at my scars. They’re watching the ball at my feet, tracking my runs, calling for passes.
Then Jared sends this perfect cross arcing through the air, and I don’t think. Instead, I just jump. The ball meets my forehead with that satisfying thunk, and suddenly, everyone’s shouting.
“Get in!” Scott yells.
The ball obeys him and slots perfectly into the back of the net.
Before I can process what happened, Jared’s arms are around me, lifting me slightly off the ground in a hug. He smells like grass and sweat and citrus, and I have to lock every muscle in my body to stop myself from clinging to him like a koala with abandonment issues.
“You’re amazing,” he says against my ear before letting go, leaving me standing there trying to remember how joints work.
Scott’s already pulling off his training bib. “Blue Dragon?”
A chorus of agreement goes up, and just like that, I become part of the post-practice ritual.
It turns out The Blue Dragon is a pub next to the sports fields. The Rainbow Rascals have clearly claimed a corner of the pub as their own.
I end up squeezed into a booth between Jared and Declan, trying not to notice how Jared’s thigh presses against mine. Why does Jared always smell so good even when he’s been running around for over an hour? It’s criminal.
“So, Felix,” Scott says, sliding a beer across to me, “Jared says you’re new to Auckland?”
“Yeah, I’ve only been here a few months,” I say. “I moved up from Hamilton.”
“What brought you here?” Tim asks, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“I’m training to be a vet nurse. And I needed a change of scenery.” I don’t elaborate on why, but I’m pretty sure the understanding in Tim’s gaze means he’s worked out the reason.
“The other day Felix had to deal with a puppy who ate so many paperclips he needed his stomach pumped,” Jared jumps in, seamlessly redirecting the conversation.
“I once had a dog who ate my grandmother’s hearing aid,” Declan says.
Everyone starts sharing weird animal stories, and the knot in my chest loosens. These guys are actually…nice. Normal. They’re treating me like just another player, not a curiosity.
But I’m still hyperaware of Jared next to me. The way he laughs with his whole body. How he automatically orders me a cider when the next round comes because he knows I prefer it to beer. How his hand occasionally lands on my shoulder or knee.
But then I catch a glimpse of Tim and Jamie across the table. Tim leans into Jamie when he laughs, and Jamie turnsto whisper something in Tim’s ear. It’s so natural, so obvious they’re together.
That’s never going to be Jared and me.
I’m sitting here, surrounded by gorgeous, fit men, accepted into their group, and all I can think about is the paramedic whose thigh is pressed against mine in a completely platonic way.
And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I need to stop waiting for something that’s never going to happen. Maybe I need to prove to myself that someone else could want me, scars and all.
“You good?” Jared asks quietly while the others are debating whether Scott’s goal from the last game was offside.
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“About?”
