Page 83 of Off the Pitch

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I asked, ignoring Lily’s question as I fiddled with the zoom on my camera.

“Honestly? It looks like you’re taking photos of my brother warming up. Are you really that weird?” Lily raised an eyebrow at me and smirked because she already knew the answer.

“Yup.” I popped thepand took another photo of Christian. He looked so fucking sexy in his warm-up gear out on the pitch. Honest to God, I was sure football shorts weren’t supposed to be that tight around the thigh. Not that I minded of course. “Have you seen him? Why wouldn’t I take photos of him? He’s a legit snack.”

“Please never ever use those words in front of me again,” Lily said, smacking my arm. “Fuck, I’m glad I moved out. You two are incorrigible.”

“But you still love us.”

“Him, yes. You, debatable.”

“You wound me,” I said, giving her my best sad face, but it was hard to manage because just then, Christian started stretching and I nearly had a heart attack. Fuck me, he looked good.

It was another Saturday in October, and Lily and I were sitting in the family and friend’s balcony on one side of the Greenwich Athletic stadium, ready to cheer the team on to another victory. I’d tried to get to every home game this season, not just because I liked watching my better half get sweaty and show off his athleticism, but because I genuinely enjoyed watching the matches. Even losses were vaguely bearable, although that might have been more to do with what usually happened afterwards.

It had been a year since I’d stumbled back into Christian’s life, and it had honestly been the best one of my life. Sure, things had been a little tricky at times, but we’d put the rocky patch behind us and were enjoying every moment together.

“How long do you think it’ll be until Hugo’s fit again?” Lily asked, watching as the team began some basic drills and passing exercises in the middle of the pitch under the careful supervision of the coaching staff. The stadium was filling up, and there was an excited hum of chatter surrounding us.

Hugo Serin, Christian’s fellow striker, had broken his leg as the result of a nasty tackle back in May, barely missing out on needing surgery, and his recovery was taking a little longer than expected. I shrugged. “Not sure. I know he’s back doing some gentle work with the team, and they’re upping his fitness. I think Christian said he’s aiming for Christmas?”

“He needs to hurry up.” Lily laughed. “They’re really missing him up front. I mean Christian’s great, but he needs the support.”

I nodded, and our conversation turned to the January transfer window and whether Lucas Trossero would be looking to get another striker if Hugo’s recovery was delayed or whether he’d try to pull through some of the youth players. I was really only half listening though because my eyes were still on Christian.

“David?”

“Hmm?” I said, breaking out of my daydream. I’d been thinking about three weekends ago when Greenwich had last won a home game. Christian had scored the winner, and we’d ended up having sex on the stairs as soon as he’d gotten home because we couldn’t make it to the bedroom. My knees had been sore for a week, but it had been worth it.

Fuck, Lily was right. Wewereincorrigible.

Meh, I had a sexy boyfriend with themostperfect legs and ass I’d ever seen, and he’d scored the winning goal. What else was I supposed to do except drop to my knees and worship him?

“If you’re thinking about fucking my brother right now, so help me God, I will push you over the balcony and laugh.”

“Nope,” I said, hoping my face didn’t give me away. “Just thinking about work.”

“Liar.”

Luckily for me, and my spine, the warm-up ended and the whole stadium applauded as the two teams left the pitch to get ready for the game. Lily and I chatted casually, and then Ali, Liam’s fiancée, sat down next to us and our conversation turned to their upcoming wedding. She was a braver person than me to get married in the middle of the football season, but as she’d said, next summer would be the World Cup, and unless she wanted to wait another year or so to get married, they’d have to fit it in around football.

Our conversation was cut off by the announcer bringing the teams onto the pitch. He announced each of the Greenwich players individually with a booming voice to thunderous applause and cheers from the fifty thousand home fans packing the stadium.

“Number thirteen, Christian King.” Christian jogged onto the pitch, smiling and clapping, looking up at the crowd. He seemed so much more relaxed these days, happily acknowledging the fans instead of running out head down and focused. I’d like to say that being in a relationship had made him more relaxed, but I knew it was more than that. It was a combination of self-acceptance, the freedom to be himself, and shedding the expectations placed on him by other people. I couldn’t have been prouder of him.

The teams lined up, and soon the first whistle blew, kicking off the match.

Greenwich’s opponent wasn’t necessarily the best team, mid-table at best, but it was obvious from the team selection Trossero had made that he wasn’t going to treat them with any less respect. Upsets had happened before, and Trossero clearly didn’t want one.

Greenwich looked relaxed though, settling into an easy rhythm within minutes. Christian was practically skipping past their defence, the ball at his feet, and it didn’t take long for him to send the ball clattering into the back of the net.

The crowd went wild as Christian was piled on by what looked like half the team. Lily high-fived me, a beaming smile on her face.

“That was easy,” she said.

“Don’t jinx it,” I said, laughing. “You never know.”

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