The Prospect (Crawfield Football Club #3)

14. H A Z E L

FOURTEEN

H A Z E L

“I need details, Miss Collins. Details!” Amira sinks into my bed, sitting criss-crossed as she leans back onto her palms. “And don’t be afraid to spare any or all of them...” She suggestively winks.

This is a first for me, having someone so invested and interested in my love-life. It’s an excitable feeling. I won’t lie, I want to talk about it. I want to share more, but a part of me can’t help but wonder if I tell Amira about my date with Hart, does that mean she’s going to tell me all about her date with Green?

I’m not sure the risk is worth the reward.

I was up late last night tossing and turning in between the sheets as the words of his note played on repeat in my mind.

It’s like I can hear his voice saying it to me. I mean, when you’ve known someone for so long you almost memorized exactly what they sound like, and last night, that’s all I heard. All. Night. Long.

I couldn't not get my favorite girl one too.

“Go on, Hazel.” Amira gently uses her foot to urge me to talk.“I want to know how your date went with Hart. Stop leaving me in suspense.”

I shake away the looming thoughts in my mind, tucking them far enough away even though I know that they’ll inevitably just come back to haunt me.

“The date…well,” I swallow, finding my confidence, “it was…amazing, Amira,” I tell her wholeheartedly. “Really, I—I can’t believe just how incredible it was.”

Amira clutches her hands against her chest in a cheesy stereotypical way to express her joy. “Hazel…” She clutches a hold of my hand, drawing out the last syllable of my name. “That is amazing. I’m so happy for you. That is just… ugh …isn’t love just the absolute best feeling in the world?”

Love.

Woah, it’s way too early to talk about love.

If Hart and I were in a film together, we'd have hardly made it through the first act by now. But if Green and I were in a film together, then we’d…

God. We’re not in a flipping movie, snap out of it.

“I want to hear all about this date. Where did you go? What did you do? What did you get up to after?” She winks. “Ah, Hazel, we’ve known each other for four years and I can’t believe this is only the first time we’re having one of these conversations!”

I blush. I know Amira means well, but her comment is the sad but honest truth. I suppose this is the first time I’ve had a proper date since being at uni. The first time I’ve opened up about my feelings for someone since that drunken night with Amira.

“Hart was amazing,” I blurt out, trying to block out my thoughts. “He was kind, funny, and such a gentleman. He planned the whole date out to a tee and made sure it was perfect for me. We laughed all night long and?—”

My alarm goes off, cutting my spiel short.

I look down at it.

Practice!

Shoot.

I always set an alarm to make sure I leave with enough time to make it before the end of Green’s practice.

We’ve got plans today to see his parents, and if I’m being honest, it’s not just something that I don’t want to be late for. I’ve got someone else I’m hoping to see today too.

“I’ve gotta run, Amira.” I stand up from my mattress, watching her face sink with disappointment. “Don’t worry,” I appease the pout of her bottom lip, reaching into my drawers. “I’ll be back tonight with more details to come.”

“Fine,” she settles on, reaching for her laptop. “You better not forget.”

“I won’t,” I tell her, securing a Crawfield sweatshirt over my head. It’s cold out today—the November chill has finally started to set in.

“You're not coming?” I ask, securing my hair into a ponytail. “I thought that maybe you’d want to see Green after your date last night.”

“Can’t.” Amira frowns. “I’ve got a big assignment due tonight and take a guess on how much I’ve managed to do.”

I don’t dare to respond despite knowing the answer—Amira’s a notorious procrastinator and if I know anything about her, this is probably the first time she’s opened up her laptop to start working on said assignment.

She’ll get it done. She always does.

“Well, good luck with your assignment.” I sling my bag along my shoulder. “And I’ll be sure to send you some pics on what you’re missing out on.”

Amira flashes me a smile, mouthing “ thank you ,” yet right before I’m about to escape out of the room she calls out my name, catching my attention.

“Hazel?”

I peer back over my shoulder—worried I might have forgotten something. “Yeah?”

“Quick question for you.” She sets her laptop to the side, crawling her way to the end of the bed. “What are you doing this Friday night?”

Mentally, I run my weekly schedule through my head. “Well, I’ve got a small paper to submit, but I’m like ninety-eight percent through it at this point, so as long as I finish it tomorrow, I’ll be?—”

“Perfect, so you’re down for a double date then?”

My eyes widen with disbelief as I can hardly process the request that leaves her mouth. “‘A double date?’” I’m like a parrot, repeating everything back to her.

“Yep, I already spoke to Green about it. Well…not the double date part given that that just popped into my head, but the two of us are going to a party on Friday and I totally think you and Hart should join as well. What do you think? It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t know.” Flashbacks from the last party and my subsequent night by the toilet come rushing back to me in a blur. “I doubt Hart would be down for that.” I toss the blame onto him when in reality it’s me. I’m the problem.

“ Hazel, ” Amira says my name through clenched teeth. “Don’t be such a downer. I’m sure Hart would be interested. Just…give it a shot, please? Or, at the bare minimum, ask him.”

I stand, contemplating the offer for a second longer before I peer down at my phone and scan over the time.

I really need to go.

“I’ll ask him, okay?” I settle on, hopeful it’s an easy enough response to break free from this conversation. “No promises, though!”

“That’s all I want.” Amira smirks, pleased with herself as she reaches back for her laptop. “Now, have fun, enjoy yourself and if you can, send me a hot picture of Green.”

I close the door behind me, leaning my body back against it for a moment to recoup myself.

A hot picture of Green.

Christ.

“Deflect and redirect,” I murmur under my breath, reminding myself not to slip into the temptation of that thought. Instead I open up my text messages and, with reluctance, propose Amira’s plan to Hart.

GREEN

“Good practice lads.” Alf walks by our side as we pave the way through the tunnel, flinging miscellaneous items throughout the changing room the second we step inside. “If you keep this up, you boys will be gearing toward another promotion this season.”

The room erupts in cheerful excitement, but it’s Hart’s voice that is most distinguishable. “Keeping it on a high note just for you, Alf,” he remarks, running a towel along his forehead to rid the sweat that drips down his face.

We’re all pouring with it.

Coach really put us through the wringer today. We needed it. Hell, I needed it. Lately, my mind has been wandering.

At first, it was consumed with a bitter sense of loneliness, only to transform into that of excitement at mine and Hazel’s love plan, yet now I can’t seem to stop myself from obsessing over every micro detail of it.

And it’s not just how things are going with Amira and I that’s leading me to spiral. It's about how things are going with Hazel and Hart.

I’ve been left in this ambiguous cluster fuck of questions since her text messages last night, wondering what the hell went on to warrant the title of: “best impromptu night ever.”

The reality is, I could easily ask Hart for the details. He’s right across from me; it would be simple, but the truth is I don’t want to. I’m confident he’ll just say something that’ll piss me off or make me even more stressed out than I already am.

Stressed.

Why am I stressed?

Shouldn’t I be happy that things are working out for Hazel? That’s all I’ve ever wanted for her, right? But fuck me, for some reason my mind can’t seem to find contentment with that.

I sink my face into my towel before I peel off my shirt and toss it to the side. Hazel said she’d meet up with me after practice today. We’ve got plans to see my family, and hell, I bet you any money she’s already outside waiting for me and in the next thirty minutes, all this questionable annoyance will be gone…

I’m counting down the seconds.

“Holy fuck, that’s bloody incredible,” I hear Wilks' remark from across the room. It piques my interest as I pull my face back from my towel to see a crowd surrounding Hart’s station, where, one by one, players murmur a mixture of praises.

“She did a great job!”

“Looks just like you, mate.”

“Damn, you’re lucky.”

What the hell are they on about?

Slowly I stand, swerving through a mixture of players as I pave my way across the room until I catch sight of Hart, who proudly stands with his back facing me.

I clear my throat to help prompt him to turn around. He does.

“Oh, hey, Green.” He’s got this chipper, almost refreshed expression on his face. “How’s it going, mate?”

“Fine,” I tell him, highly suspicious of his unusually positive attitude, especially toward me. “What was, uh—everyone just talking about a second ago?” I can’t help but ask, curious to get to the bottom of all that praise.

“You didn’t see?” Hart snaps his head back in disbelief. “I would’ve thought she’d of shown you first.”

I squint my eyes in question. “Show me what?” I pry. “And who are you talking about right now?”

Hart steps aside, and as he does not only do I feel my heart skip a beat, but he answers my question instantly.

Hung up carefully at the back of his workstation is a classic Hazel Collins portrait, and it’s not just any portrait. It’s clear to me that Hazel’s gone to great lengths to paint this picture for Hart.

There’s no doubt she’d spent hours upon hours working on this. The line work is incredible, the colors are bright, and the care is unmatched. It’s like looking at a real-life photo. It's that good.

“It’s fucking amazing, right?” Hart stands by my side—continuing to admire it himself as he nudges my shoulder, I agree, but all I can seem to think about is step two: do a romantic gesture.

This was her romantic gesture.

“Yeah…it is,” I mumble, but it’s so quiet that I know he probably can’t even hear me. Hell, I can hardly hear myself. I’m too busy thinking about the fact that before this moment I was the only person that outside of family, Hazel had painted anything for. But now, as I see her artwork hung up in Hart’s station, it pains me in a way I hadn’t thought was possible.

“You alright there?” Hart places a firm hand on my shoulder, snapping me back to reality. “You need to take a seat?” He reaches to guide me over toward the bench.

I brush him off. “No, I’m good, I’m just…” I don’t know how to even finish my sentence, instead I choose to resolve this massive lump in my throat before I sputter out. “ Tired .”

“Yeah,” Hart agrees, a yawn escaping his mouth. “Coach went a little too crazy today, but try and rest up.” He reaches back for his towel. “We’ve got a busy night on Friday.”

“ We’ve ?” I make note of a keyword in his statement. What does he mean we’ve ?

Hart stops in place once more. “Hazel really didn’t tell you?” he remarks. “The two of us are joining you and your girl at a party off-campus. ”

Disbelief courses through my veins. Hazel doesn’t do parties. Why is she doing them now?

“You are?”

“We are,” he agrees. “It sounds like the girls want to do a double-date kinda thing. So, you and I,” he gestures between the two of us before making a bee-line toward the showers, “better be on our best behavior.”

The air is brisk as I exit the stadium.

It must’ve been like this all practice. Cold, windy, nipply. I suppose I just hadn’t realized it until now. But even despite how much running Coach put us all through today, somehow I find myself picking up my pace as I make my way toward mine and Hazel’s usual meet-up spot.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I announce loudly before I’ve even rounded the corner to meet Hazel. “I lost track of time and?—”

I stop.

I stop right where I am.

I have to.

The sight in front of me has turned me even colder than I once was as I watch Hart wrap Hazel into a warm hug and whisper into her ear.

She laughs as her short legs dangle in the air. She smiles as she wraps her arms around his neck. And she blushes when he looks right into her eyes.

Fuck, she does all these things and more before she even realizes that I’m here. Stood right here. Waiting for her. Watching her. Feeling my insides churn as she smiles brightly up at him.

“I’ll see you on Friday, okay, Haze ?” he tells her, tucking some hair behind her ear before kissing her cheek.

What did he just call her?

“Can’t wait.” Hazel doesn’t deny the nickname nor the kiss as Hart places her back down and eventually falls out of view.

She can’t see me doing it, but as he walks away I glare into the back of him the entire time. It isn’t until Hazel makes her way over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder that finally, I draw my eyes away.

“There you are.” Her face is soft and her cheeks are rosy as she looks into my eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you. Are you ready to go?”

For a moment I’m drawn into her sweet familiar scent. It helps release the tension in my shoulders as I peer down at her and readjust my bag over my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Let’s go.”