“I call it determined.”
“Mm-hmm.” She took a sip of wine, the corners of her lips tugging up. She looked unconvinced. “And what if you don’t come back from this?”
I let out a slow breath. “Then I have to figure out who I am without it.”
A beat.
“I’ve spent so long chasing the next thing—trying not to let anyone down. My parents, Simon, the fans, management ...”You.
“And Walter,” she said.
A soft chuckle left me. “And Walter.” My smile faded. “I think he’s disappointed in me.”
“He’s proud of you,” she said quietly. “We all are. And it won’t change even if you don’t play ever again.”
The words sank in deeper than I expected.
“You too, Wio?” I teased, my voice low now.
Her lips parted, the tiniest hitch in her breath. “Of course.”
The warmth in my chest melted into a soft, unexpected relief—cotton wool wrapping a wound. I wasn’t used to being valued and wanted for myself. Because most people loved and appreciated the footballer, the fame, the money, the proximity to it all. Even my own mother.
Rio exhaled. “Can I ask you something?”
If it’s to take your virginity again, I’ll do it!“Sure.”
She hesitated. “You once told me that you couldn’t fail. And you never really have.”
I ran a hand over my jaw, feeling the weight of the words I rarely said out loud. “I love winning. But for my parents, winning was how you mattered. They always drilled it into me. My dad failed at business—more than once, in more than one country. My mom never let him forget it. Now she lives off my money in Spain, and he fucked off to Florida, only ever calling to ask me to ‘invest’ in his business.”
Her expression softened, but she didn’t rush to fill the silence.
“Failure ...” I exhaled. “I know it’s part of life. I just ... need it to mean something. To push me to do better next time. I can handle it when it fuels the next win, otherwise, I feel like I’m letting people down, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”
She was quiet for a long moment, then her voice came softly. “So what must you think of me?”
My brows drew together. “What?”Yeah, what, except that I can’t stop thinking about you lately—your smile, your eyes, your voice. I’d never felt this close to anyone before.And the way my heart was pounding now? I’d never felt like that for anyone.
My heart nearly split in two at the sudden realization.
“I’m not even good at speaking, Owen.” She swallowed. “Every sentence feels like a fight. You must think—”
My chest tightened, ached. I shifted closer, locking eyes with her. “I think you’re a rare force to be reckoned with, Rio.” My voice dropped, steady, certain. “I think that you’re the most courageous person I know. Courage isn’t being fearless, it’s pushing through despite the fear. You’re winning with every word.”
She blinked at me, something unreadable crossing her face. The dim glow from the nearby lamp made her eyes look darker, deeper—like pools of ink, hard to read but impossible to look away from.
She was so close. Her scent—soft and warm, like vanilla and cinnamon—flooded me, and I knew I should look away. That I should back up from this.
Inside the fort, it was almost easy to forget everything else. She wasn’t Simon’s sister. She wasn’t off-limits. She was just Rio.MyRio—at least in this moment.
Then she shifted, her thigh brushing against mine again, and suddenly, the fight I’d been waging with myself felt utterly useless.
I was going to lose the fight. Or win it. In the fog I was in—I wasn’t sure anymore.
One second, we were staring at each other, eyes locked, breaths intermixing, and the next, like a dam breaking, I was pulling her to me, tilting her face up toward mine, and crashing my lips against hers.
She didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned further in, the smallest exhale slipping past her lips into mine, sending a ripple of blood through my body straight to my cock.
