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How could I forget? We had training tomorrow morning, so I couldn’t drink myself into oblivion. I couldn’t order junk food and sit on my sofa bingeing it.
And I definitely couldn’t bury myself in a girl. Or I could…but with the way my luck had been going recently, she’d probably sell me out, just like the others had recently.
At least every girl that had sold me out had praised my dick. That was a plus, right?
With a sigh, I dragged myself off the sofa and headed into my bedroom. I stopped in front of the huge mirror that marked the entrance to my closet.
I tugged off my T-shirt and pasted a smile on my face as I angled my body to catch the evening sunlight streaming through the windows. My social media fans would appreciate me, even if no one else did.
9
THEO
Jordan Emery’s house was exactly as I’d expected. Modern, bland, and soulless. Why was I here?
“Why are you here?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same question.” Glancing up at Lars, I shook my head. “Grant ‘strongly suggested’ that I come after yesterday’s incident. He seems to think that if Jordan and I interact outside of our place of work, we’ll be able to put our differences aside. I told him that it would never work and reminded him what happened the last time we mixed me, Jordan, and alcohol. But he insisted.”
Lars scrubbed a hand over his beard, his brows pulled together as he mulled over my words. “He may be correct. You are fighting too much. It’s bad for team morale.”
He was right about the team morale part…and I supposed he had a point about the fighting. After yesterday’s away match against Manchester City, which we’d lost 3–0, Jordan had stormed over to me in a rage, ranting about the mistakes I’d supposedly made and how it had cost us the third goal. Yes, I had lost the ball, but we’d all made mistakes, and it wasn’t fair of him to single me out. And this was Jordan, the man I loathed. It didn’t take much to rile me up when he was involved, and I’d ended up grappling with him against the tunnel wall, both of us snarling insults at one another until we’d been pulled apart by our teammates.
I highly doubted that attending a party at the house of my enemy would fix anything, though. We were too broken for that.
“I’ll try to…be polite.” It was all I could offer.
“You’re a good man, Theo.” Lars clasped my shoulder. “We only have one more game left in the season, and then you can have a break. It will be good for you. Take a trip somewhere tropical and forget about your problems.”
“That sounds good.” Anywhere that was far away from Jordan sounded good.
One more game. Our dreams of qualifying for Europe were over, but there was always next season. If we won our final match, we’d finish in eighth position in the league, which was far higher than Glevum had ever placed before. So close to qualifying for Europe, but not close enough.
But it was something worth celebrating.Ifwe could manage to do it. There were three teams vying for eighth position, and it would all come down to the final game. If we lost and two of the other teams won their games, it was possible that we’d finish in the bottom half of the table.
We couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Theo, there you are.” Grant appeared in the entryway that led into the kitchen area. His arm was slung around a pouting Jordan, whose expression darkened when he lifted his eyes to mine.
Grant tightened his grip on Jordan’s shoulder and dragged him over to me. “Now. I want you two to shake hands and promise me that you’ll be civil to each other. We’ve only got one game left this season, and we need to win it.”
There was a long silence. Grant cleared his throat, and Lars nudged me. “Fine,” Jordan muttered, holding out his hand.
I lifted mine and curved my fingers around his warm palm.
He immediately yanked his hand away, giving me a wide, fake smile. “Theodore. Welcome to my humble abode. Would you like a drink?”
I matched his fake smile with one of mine. “Thank you for having me. A drink would be lovely.”
His smile dropped, and he jabbed a finger behind him. “Kitchen’s through there. Help yourself.”
“Jordan.”
Because Grant was our captain, Jordan actually listened to his warning, and so I found myself in the kitchen with my hated rival. It was crowded and loud, which had the unfortunate side effect of Jordan stepping closer to me to be heard over the din.
The bastard smelleddelicious. Cedar, tropical rainforests, and some other notes I couldn’t decipher but combined to make an addictive, exotic scent. I’d caught a hint of it before, when he’d been hanging all over me when he was completely wasted, but I’d been drunk myself at the time. Now, with his body so close to mine, I had no choice but to breathe him in.
“Just to make it clear, I don’t want you here, but if I don’t play by Grant’s rules, he’s gonna be really pissed off with me.”
