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“You’re not old,” Alex told Kieran.
Kieran laughed. “Nah, I’m not. Just wanted to hear someone else say it.”
“How manipulative.”
“I prefer resourceful, myself.”
God, Alex would miss him. Since that would have been a weird thing to tell his coach, he kept his mouth shut and returned Kieran’s one-armed hug. As soon as Kieran moved on, Lee bumped into Alex’s side, mindful of Alex’s dodgy ankle as he slung an arm around his shoulders.
“Nice speech.” He sounded like he meant it.
“You don’t think it was too cheesy?” Something in Alex shivered when he caught Lee’s gaze—the softness in Lee’s eyes felt too intimate for where they were, surrounded by people.
“It was just cheesy enough,” Lee told him. “Five out of five, would hire for another pep talk.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
Alex relaxed a little into Lee’s proximity. “Oh, good. I wanted—I didn’t want to hog the spotlight, but it felt like I needed to saysomething, you know? Didn’t exactly plan it, so I’m glad it didn’t turn out wholly ridiculous.”
“Youjumped in without a meticulously detailed plan?” Lee asked with a teasing quirk to his mouth, and Alex nudged him.
“Shut up. Plenty of things I didn’t exactly plan, these last few weeks.” He lowered his voice. “No regrets.”
Lee’s response consisted of drawing Alex just the tiniest bit nearer, nothing that would register for anyone who didn’t watch closely. Warm, rich silence connected them while people around were laughing and shouting, Jeff and Lewis arguing about football anthems while Kieran recounted a drunken night out when he’d played his last World Cup, hotel staff waiting for things to quiet down so they could do their bloody jobs.
Alex took it all in and realised that this,thiswas who he was. This was his life, what he stood for independently of his father. If they stripped away his title along with his right to inherit a legacy that seemed more burden than honour, at this point?
Let them. He honestly couldn’t care less.
18
It wasn’t the first match Alex watched from the bench, but he’d never worn street clothes before—officially ineligible to play. Surrounded by substitutes in their team kit, he rose for the national anthems.
The stadium exploded into cheers once the music died, and had it been this loud at the other matches, too? Alex couldn’t remember, must have been too focused on himself to notice. He stuffed his shaking hands into the pockets of his shorts, attention drawn to Lee only to find that Lee was looking at him already.
Alex smiled and thought,I’m in love with you.
No surprise coloured the realisation, just an easy sense of acceptance, maybe even inevitability. Yeah, he was in love with Lee—had been for a little while, most likely. It didn’t scare him. Should it, though? Veering so far off the path he’d mistaken for his own? It still didn’t.
Lee’s answering smile was tiny, meant only for Alex to see. Then Lee turned away to take his position, Alfie in Alex’s usual spot, Oliver shaking hands before he swapped pennants with the Brazilian captain, and then… And then the match began.
The final. The fuckingfinal.
And Alex was forced to watch from the bench.
God, it was torture—his knee bouncing with nervous energy, keeping quiet even as he wanted to shout, “There,there!” He didn’t fancy himself superior to those on the pitch, but removed from the action, he had an easier time spotting gaps and opportunities, and it was painful to see them slide away.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Lewis said dryly, sat next to him.
Alex dug his fingers into his thighs. “Yeah.”
“See, that’s why backup plans like me should be allowed to drink a proper pint now and then.”
“Really starting to see—” Alex cut himself off and leaned forward, dimly aware of the stadium quieting behind and around him, tension weaving into the summer night air. No,no.
Oliver snatched the shot out of the air, and Alex could breathe again.
