Page 39 of Anteros' Return

Daniel must have noticed my expression and also realised that I wouldn't be able to make it. “Maybe you can fly back for the last match. See Liam lift that trophy as captain,”

“If I can, I will.” But I didn’t hold high hopes. If my fitness was where it needed to be and where I wanted it to be, then I’d be lifting my own trophy.

“Foul!” I shouted at Timmy when he tackled Liam from behind without thinking. Timmy raised his hands as if he’d done nothing wrong. “Timmy, bench.”

He scoffed. “But, Beckett, it’s just a friendly game!”

“That tackle was anything but friendly.” I kept my cool, not wanting to look as though I had a favourite, because I obviously did.

“No, but—” Timmy protested.

“I don’t want to hear another excuse. You weren’t taught to tackle that way, and I don’t want to see it again. Otherwise, you can say hello to the bench for the rest of the season.”

I stayed as calm as I could manage, though my chest tightened the moment I saw Liam limping toward me. His steps were uneven, his jaw clenched, and my instincts screamed to rush over and scoop him up. But I didn’t—I held steady, giving him the space to come to me, to be strong if he needed to be.

He stopped in front of me, cheeks flushed and fists balled at his sides. I turned to face him, bracing for tears, for the moment the pain would break through his brave little shell. But instead, all I saw was fire.

“You alright, mate?” I asked, voice low and careful.

“I’m good!” he snapped, his voice tight with barely contained frustration. “Timmy just needs to learn how to tackle cleanly!”

He jerked his chin toward the kid across the field, his emerald eyes narrowing with a look far too intense for someone so small. His pride was hurt more than anything, and he wasn’t about to let anyone see weakness—not even me. Still, I couldsee the tremble in his bottom lip, the way he shifted his weight off his sore leg, and the hint of betrayal that came with being knocked down unfairly.

“You went down too easily.” Timmy scoffed.

“Shut up, Timmy!” Liam responded with a scowl.

“Right. That’s enough, the pair of you. Timmy, I expect you to apologise to Liam for what just happened.”

“Sorry, L,” Timmy started. “I didn’t mean to tackle that hard.”

“Alright, but do it again and I’ll—” Liam started, but of course, I didn’t let him finish.

I stepped forward and clapped my hands as a way to distract them. “Liam,” I glanced at him as I spoke. “Timmy, join your team and keep those tackles clean.” He nodded before running off to join in again. “Liam, what was that retaliation about?”

“Nothing. He’s just a?—”

“I don’t want to hear whatever is about to come out of your mouth, thank you very much.”

He looked up at me. “I was only going to say that he’s a nice boy.”

“Sure, you were.” I rolled my eyes, settling back into the plastic seat off to the side of the pitch. “You good to get back to your team?”

“Yeah, all good.” He ran back towards the boys as if nothing had happened.

Daniel and I observed the rest of the match, noting who would provisionally start on Saturday before finalising on Wednesday.

“I think the team looks solid,” I said.

“You’re speaking like you’re back in the league.” Daniel joked, but I knew he agreed.

***

After training finished, Liam and I walked in the direction of the small diner not far from Emily’s house. Liam sprinted to the door, holding it open for me as I approached on my crutches.

“You need more help than me,” he teased, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re cheeky, you know.” I entered the restaurant with Liam close behind. “You remind me of your Uncle Harry.”

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