Colten closes the distance fast. He may be nearly a foot shorter than me, but he’s quick, and when he tries to hook the ball away, I have to spin to shield it with my leg.
“If you want me to be your hostage, you have to ask nicely!” I tell him.
Colten tries to kick it out, but I dribble it backwards, watching him the whole time.
“C’mon, Freeman,” I tease, grinning. “Make me an honest man.”
Colten stumbles, his cleats catching on some patch of grass. I laugh harder.
“The only way you could be an honest man is if someone forced you,” Colten says, lunging for the ball again, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration and a hint of pink on his cheeks.
We’re way too close for any real soccer practice now. It’s just the two of us kicking the ball back and forth, mostly between my legs, trying to steal control without tripping over each other. I’m breathing hard, my heart picking up with every one of Colten’s nonstop attempts.
He keeps brushing against me, shoulder to chest, thigh to thigh, and I’m barely keeping the ball. Sweat slides down my back, and with him this close, the bergamot scent of his shampoo cuts straight through the grass and summer air.
I keep my face carefully away from his head. He’s headbutted me before, and it hurts like hell.
Still, I can’t stop grinning down at him, half tempted to forget the ball altogether and just toss him into the grass.
“You’re just mad because you’re short,” I say, eager to escalate this.
His eyes narrow, and I only get one second of self-congratulation before he tackles me.
The ball goes flying somewhere as I hit the ground with a startled laugh.
“Red card!” I call out in between breathless laughter.
Colten does not care. Colten is already putting his stupid judo skills into action, which means I have to focus.
He grabs my arm and twists it behind my back, but I wiggle like a very determined worm and manage to keep myself from getting completely trapped. Still, he’s persistent, and annoyingly better at wrestling than me.
But honestly? That just makes it more fun.
He hooks his leg around mine, shifts his weight, and suddenly I’m flat on my back in the grass with Colten straddling my waist and both my arms pinned down.
He grins victoriously, his face flushed, dark hair slipping loose from his ponytail.
The sun behind him makes the edges of his silhouette glow—
Wait, no, he’s literally glowing.
“Oh!” I say, delighted.
Colten blinks down at me. “What?”
“You’re doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
“You’re glowing again!” I wiggle under his hold excitedly, though I’m thoroughly pinned. Even if this is one of the less cool magical abilities someone could get, it’s still magic! “What are you thinking about? How do you think it was activated?”
It’s the same soft white light from before, only brighter now, like someone turned up the dimmer switch.
Colten looks down at himself, staring at the glow coming from his hands with curiosity. It dims lightly as he looks over it.
Then, out of nowhere, his eyes go wide, and the healthy flush on his face dials it up to tomato-level red.
“Oh my god,” he mutters under his breath.
