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“Alright, break it up.” Carter moved to the front of the cluster of players standing around me. Lifting his hand, he waved it in the direction of Preston. “Everyone, this is Preston. He’s trying out for the team today, so let’s put him through his paces. Don’t go easy on him.” He grinned.
A smugly confident smile spread across Preston’s face. “Show me what you’ve got.”
After the warm-up, the team moved into formation. From the second Preston touched the ball, I couldn’t tear my gaze away. His strong, muscular legs moved the ball effortlessly down the field, easily bypassing the defence. I could see him instantly calculating his chances, and he took the tiny opening between two players, gracefully flicking the ball to send it curving past the goalie and into the corner of the net.
Pure fucking poetry in motion.
“Kian who?” Chris shouted to me as the coach blew the whistle, slapping Preston’s hand in congratulations as he passed him.
In that moment, I hated Preston Montgomery III.
After practice was over, Carter gathered the team together to vote. It was only a formality—no one could deny Preston’s skill, plus, the coach had the final say. The vote was unanimous, the whole team fawning over the golden boy, showering him in praise.
As everyone made their way off the field, on a high, I remained where I was. Slumped on the bench, head in my hands, I was forgotten.
“Kian?”
“What do you want?” I sprung to my feet, making Preston stumble backwards in shock. “Come to gloat?”
“No.” His stupid perfect mouth turned down, his brows pulling together. “I thought I’d come and see if you were okay. You know, after everything.”
“Why would you care? We’re not friends. You’ve taken my place on the team—congratulations. Now, get out of my face.”
“Hey, no hard feelings, man. Carter asked me to step in, so I did. The team needs me until you’re back from your suspension.” He eyed me warily.
“What do you want, a medal? So you had a good game, so what. I’m not interested in talking to you.”
His eyes hardened, the light going out of them. “Fine. If that’s how you want to be.”
“It is.”
“Okay.” His nostrils flared, and his jaw set. “Don’t mistake me for an easy target you can push around.”
“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about your feelings. Stay out of my way.”
A low, rumbling growl came from his throat, but he clamped his mouth shut. Without another word, he dismissed me by turning his back, stalking away in harsh, angry strides.
Every football practice, I was there, watching from the sidelines, Preston always commanding my entire focus. Torturing myself with the knowledge that I’d been replaced by someone who was easily as good as me, if not better.
Every day, I resented him a little more.
Every day, he burrowed deeper under my skin.
2
OCTOBER
“Great job. I had every faith in you, son.” Coach clapped me on the back as I came to a halt at the edge of the field, wiping the sweat from my brows. A huge grin spread across my face. I was an outsider in this place, but here on the field, I belonged. Scoring three goals, winning the praise of my teammates? Nothing could beat that.
“Not bad, mate.” Carter, soccer team captain and midfielder, held out his hand for a fist bump, which I accepted. The smile remained on my face as he jogged away in the direction of the locker room with the rest of my teammates, their congratulations leaving me on a high.
Heading over to the side of the field, I swiped a bottle of water from the pile resting on the table, uncapped it, and lifted it to my mouth—then paused, the bottle halfway to my lips.
Kian Courtland, legendary striker, currently suspended from the team, was watching me from the sidelines with a dark, angry glare in his pale green eyes.
Guess he was still pissed that I was the one getting the praise. It was his own fault he’d managed to get himself suspended from the team. Being caught with weed in his locker? Yeah, he deserved it. I raised a brow, taunting him, and his gaze narrowed, his fists clenching, probably imagining his hands around my throat.
My cock stirred in my shorts, and I groaned. Not again. It was difficult enough being the new guy at Alstone High, let alone an American in a foreign country. Add being gay and attracted to someone who was not only harbouring a grudge against me, but was decidedly straight based on the girls he always surrounded himself with?
