Page 37 of Be My Endgame


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When he came back into the room, Alex was sitting on the bed, his sheet already folded next to him. The hotel lay silent around them, and without even meaning to, Lee lowered his voice. “Y’know, this whole thing feels like being on a spaceship—not just us, but the entire team. Like we’re in this weird, isolated bubble, floating in space, and once in a while, we touch down to play a match, take a few selfies with some fans, and then we’re off again.”

Alex flashed him a smile. “I think our food’s marginally better, but, yeah. So I guess that makes us cabinmates?”

“And friends, I hope.”

“Definitely friends.” Alex got up from the bed, then didn’t quite seem to know what to do with himself, curling the fingers of one hand into the hem of his T-shirt. He must have put it back on while Lee had been in the bathroom—a loss in terms of the room’s aesthetic appeal, but such was life.

“There’s something you wanted to tell me?” Lee prompted, and Alex nodded quickly, taking a step closer to Lee.

“Yeah. Promised myself I would, so…” He trailed off, frowning. When it became clear that nothing else was immediately forthcoming, Lee shot him a grin.

“Let me guess—you are, in fact, Messi’s secret love child?”

Alex snorted, shoulders loosening a little. “He’d have been, like, thirteen. Creepy much?”

“Ronaldo, then. He’s a couple of years older, isn’t he?”

“Still creepy.”

“Well, there goes your chance to renounce your father.”

“Tempting,” Alex said. “Too bad reality isn’t a lunch menu where you get to pick your preferred version.”

“Unless you’re my mum off her meds.” It might be a little too early in the day for jokes like that, but Lee had always relied on humour to dull the sharp edges of a painful subject. “So, anyway. Shoot.”

“Right.” Alex knotted his hands in front of his stomach. “So, yeah.”

Okay, this was getting just a little concerning. “You said it was nothing bad, right?”

“It’s not!” Alex’s gaze slid to Lee and away again. “I just don’t know how to, you know, actually say this.”

“How about an interpretive dance?” Lee kept his tone deliberately light, smiling, and for a moment, Alex stared at him with wide eyes. Then, suddenly, Alex raised his chin and took the three steps that separated them.

“Fuck it.”

With that, he pushed himself into Lee’s space, abruptlyclose, and pulled him into a rough kiss.God. It was heat and Alex’s fingers digging into Lee’s shoulder, a warm hand against the back of Lee’s neck and the taste of toothpaste on Alex’s lips. Lee twisted closer and got one hand under Alex’s T-shirt to grab his waist, running his tongue along the seam of Alex’s lips.

Alex’s fluttery moan brought him back to his senses.

Lee stumbled back. “What the fuck?”

Alex slow-blinked, lips and cheeks red. It very nearly undid Lee, and he took another step back because no,fuckno.

“What the actualfuck?” he asked again.

“I...” Alex swallowed, staring at Lee as though words were beyond him.

“I’m not your gay fucking experiment.” Pun unintended, and bloody hell, Lee needed tothink. He wanted Alex, yeah, sure. But that didn’t make it a good idea.

“That’s not...” Alex inhaled sharply. “I’m bi. So.”

“You're...”

Bi. Alex was bi? Since when?

“Oh yeah?” Lee narrowed his eyes. “Since fuckingwhen?”

“Since … forever. Like, years.”

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