Page 111 of Watched

“Four,” I count, and Blade stands. “Three, two—”

“Fine,” he surrenders. “But I want conformation I’ll be paid and let go the second the meet is set up.”

He flinches as Blade hits his shoulder. “Of course. What are we if not men of our word?”

“Animals,” Ryan sneers.

“That’s a compliment to me,” Blade whispers.

I grin.

Chapter forty-three

ROME

We lost 4-6 last game, which just feels like another hit to my crumbling life. Rain kept his promise of attaching himself as my shadow. He’s also made a habit of wearing my jersey to the trainings. I told him to take it off, but I know it’s his way of staking his claim.

Paparazzi photos of us getting in the car together have begun circling, and the internet is having a feast. Every media outlet has posted that same photo with a new headline, but the articles are only up for less than an hour before Rain’s on their site, taking it down. While I appreciate his attempt to stop headlines, it’s out; there’s no stopping the judgement. I try my best to ignore it and check my social media as little as possible.

Most of my team are supportive, and they’ve become accustomed to Rain watching and how he claps whenever I, well, do anything. I’ve thought about getting him black and white pompoms, but I don’t doubt the prick would actually use them.

He was already awake and making me breakfast before I stumbled out of bed at 4AM. I ate the breakfast wrap on my way into the city, and I was a little uncomfortable when he kept looking over, watching my mouth wrap around it with each bite. He didn’t bother to hide the tent in his pants.

He’s so comfortable in his being. The judgement of others or society in a whole has no effect on him, and I’m envious I can’t be as carefree with myself.

I groan as Rain trudges down the back steps with a smile and shin pads in his not surprising white socks and football boots. I hate how my chest still tightens when I look at his body. He’s a prick, but Rain Weston is sculpted to perfection.

He clears his throat, forcing me to drag my gaze from the ‘V’ line that snagged my attention for who knows how long. I’m estimating a good twenty seconds, considering he’s walked the length of the backyard and is now standing in front of me.

“What are you wearing?” I mutter, dropping my football to the grass.

“Like I said, baby, I want to be involved in your life. Therefore, I want to train with you.”

He purchased goals and set them up next to the tennis court. He even painted lines in the freshly cut grass so I have half a pitch to practise on.

I smile. “Go stand in the goals so I can kick this ball at your face.”

“I’d like different balls on my face, but you don’t seem to want to give me that.”

“Maybe I’ll suffocate you.”

“I’d much prefer choking to death on your perfect fucking cock.”

“You would. I’m bigger.”

“More for me to swallow, baby.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The disgusting smell of cigarettes lingers in the afternoon air, and I flick my eyes to the third story, my stomach knotting when I meet Blade’s dead eyes, as he leans against the black railing of his bedroom balcony.

Blade is the last person I want to be near, given that he’s been eyeing me like I’m his next victim. Rain assured me he has a plan, that Blade won’t come near me. I’ve begun to question how much I should trust Rain.

“Baby,” Rain calls to my left, and I snap my head to him standing in the goal. “Let’s go.”

Swallowing the nausea, I kick the ball to the penalty spot. The rare sun beams on my bare back as I retreat from the ball, and Rain lets out a nervous laugh when I stop. His eyes flick over my body as I take off, arching toward the ball. My foot collides, sending it soaring to the top right corner. It glides past his middle finger, his calculations falling short.

I smile. “Be thankful I didn’t fuck up your pretty face.”