I follow my teammates onto the pitch and take up my post like a sentinel preparing for war. Warming up with a couple of tuck jumps, I catch a glimpse of Razzi in his team’s huddle, his eyes fixed on me. My lips tug into a smirk, and I lift my shoulders as if to say,bring it.
Satisfaction shoots through me when he scowls and looks away.
“Looks like you’re in his head,” Noah says, walking past me to get into his position.
But I won’t let him distract me.
This is my game.
I roll my shoulders,bouncing on the balls of my feet as I keep my eyes locked on the ball. Razzi caught a break with some fancy footwork to outturn Ritter, who’s scrambling to chase him down.
The crowd roars as the opposition striker charges towards me. We’re one-on-one, with only a couple of minutes left in the game. My knees bend as I watch him intently, looking for anything that will tell me where his shot will go.
Despite Ritter and Noah chasing him down, he dribbles the ball to the corner of the box. Noah’s player is wide open to my left, but Razzi has a point to prove. My gut tells me he won’t pass it off.
Noah reaches the striker a split second too late, using his body to try push him off the ball, but Razzi has already taken his shot.
It soars towards the left side of the net, and I dive, arms outstretched. Time stands still as my body soars throughthe air. The ball hits the tip of my gloves, and I hold my breath, unable to blink as I watch the ball ricochet. It scrapes past the outside of the post and over the line for a corner.
My heart races as I scramble to my feet, shouting directions at my teammates. This is the last play of the game. There’s no way I’m letting them score. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder to the top of the box, I see Noah marking Razzi, and I return my full attention to Macquarie’s left wing, who’s jogging over to set the corner.
He lifts both arms in the air— he’s going back post, I know it—then he slices the ball, but I wait, knowing I need to time my jump perfectly. Players scramble for position around me, but I keep my eye on the ball.
Taking two steps to my right, I leap into the air, seeing Razzi coming at me. My gloves close around the ball, and I bring my arms down, cradling it to my chest as three sharp blasts of the ref’s whistle signal the end of the game.
Fuck yeah.
A clean sheet.
We just won our first game of the season four-nil—I didn’t concede a single goal.
Razzi and his teammates drop their heads, and I toss the ball into the air with a whoop. My team rushes in, and no one is more surprised than I am when our captain throws his arms around my waist, lifting me into the air.
My body pulses, thrumming to life everywhere he’s touching me. All my synapses fire at once, and I squirm out of his hold, thankful that the rest of my teammates gather around us, slapping me on the back and distracting me from the way my body responded to Noah’s.
No. Fucking. Way.
Not going there.
Chapter 10
Noah
“Drinks at Carter’s,” someone shouts over the noise in the change rooms.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face as shouts of affirmation fill the room. Drinks at the campus bar is the perfect way to celebrate.
We fucking won.
Not only that, but it was a clean sheet. Kincaid was on fire tonight, saving everything that came his way.
My pulse spikes as our eyes meet across the room. There’s no doubt he’s my type—tall, blond, chiselled—but while he’s out and proud, I’m firmly shut in the closet, still coming to terms with how to navigate this.
I feel like a dick over the way I’ve treated him this past eighteen months, all because I couldn’t get past my hang-ups with my dad. If I’m honest with myself, the reason for my animosity was straight-up jealousy. I’m jealous he can be who wants and fuck who he wants with no fallout. I’ve had to hide who I am my entire life because it doesn’t fit with my family’s narrative, and I’m tired.
My thoughts drift to my Romeo from the club. He’s safe. A mystery stranger who doesn’t know who I am orwho my family is. A hidden secret who won’t judge me for only being myself within the walls of Euphoria.
Does only seeing him once a month suck? Yeah, but I can’t risk what happened back in Perth happening here.
