A straight guy who keeps fantasizing about sucking dick again.
I deleted Grindr off my phone. No way I’m risking another random hookup.
But that just makes me go back to fantasizing about Troy. He’s a massive grump. It’s not like he’s softening up. But after our meeting about my contracts, I know that I can push his buttons, mess with him a little bit, and he doesn’t balk.
I like that about him.
And like I told him, I know if we did hook up again, he’d keep the secret.
A sharp whistle pulls me from my thoughts. The stadium is full around us and the field alive with energy. Quickly, I pull myself back into focus, letting the energy pour into my game.
Zeke appears beside me, goalie gloves already on. “Be ready for your breakaways,” he says, fully in captain mode. He grasps my shoulder and gives it a rub. “You’ve been unblockable lately. Let’s keep it up.”
I nod, glad for the confidence. “I will.”
His expression eases as he nods toward the front midfield seats. “Gotta appreciate an agent who makes so many games,” he says and releases my shoulder. “Stay alive, Onassis.”
His words penetrate my brain as he walks away. When I look, I see that he’s right. Troy is right there up front, back straight as he watches the field.
My pulse jumps.
It doesn’t matter if the stadium is empty or full. I’m here to win, and everything that matters happens on the field.
But as I jog out toward center circle, my brain is alert to the fact that Troy is right there, watching me.
I’m going to impress the hell out of him, I decide.
The Philly Force launches into the game strong, but Boston is just as fierce. Control of the ball goes back and forth until I manage an early steal, racing down the field. We’re closed off down the middle, but I get off a pass to Syed. I’m dripping sweat and exhausted, and moments later, the ball is back to me.
I outmaneuver one defender, but I’m about to be cornered. The only shot is a wide, looped volley, and I throw all my power behind the kick.
The ball soars just out of the goalie’s reach, pushing us one point ahead.
I pump my fist as the rest of the offense pulls me into an embrace. Scoring a goal is an incredible sensation. Excitement roars through the stadium, swallowing me up.
We ride the momentum, holding off any gains by Boston for a couple of minutes. Right before halftime, though, a whistle pierces the air.
“Off-sides,” a ref calls out after I make my move for the ball, and I realize it’s me. I haven’t been paying close enough attention, and the defense has caught me in an off-side trap.
My gut sinks as I come to a halt.Fuck.
The next thing I know, Boston’s best offensive player scores on the indirect free kick that my mistake has given them. We finish the first half tied.
Zeke frowns at me as the team huddles up. “Watch the off-sides,” he says. “They’re trying to bog you down.”
I nod. Everyone’s eyes are on me, and I can’t doubt myself. We’re still going strong, and I’m on fire. “Got it.”
It’s the risk that comes with keeping the offense right on the knife’s edge, but I know I can walk that line. I’m going to win and show my best today, and every muscle screams to get back on the field.
Right at the start of the second half, Syed blasts through the defense and sets me up to score another goal. Soaring, I look out at the stadium, flashing a smile Troy’s way. But our lead only lasts for a few minutes of play before I’m called for another off-sides offense, leading to Boston’s second goal.
My face burns. Syed gives me a frustrated look, but nods. “You got this,” he tells me with confidence. “Don’t let it shake you.”
Except the magic from the first half is already gone. I’m unsteady. I lose control of the ball when I normally wouldn’t. And so it’s not long before Coach pulls me out, replacing me with Anthony.
My heart pounds while I watch the rest of the game. The team holds strong, but Boston pushes us into overtime. It stays close, and we lose it in the end.
Disappointment is thick in the air, and my shoulders are heavy with the responsibility.
