The Prospect (Crawfield Football Club #3)

20. G R E E N

TWENTY

G R E E N

“It’s a little chilly. Don’t you think that maybe we should head inside too?” I propose, watching as Hazel disappears into the house, her hand carefully intertwined with Hart’s as he places his other on the low of her back.

It forces a knot in my stomach and an ache to run through my jaw.

I knew Hazel would be spending the night with Hart; that was a given, but even though she’s out of sight, the old saying of her being out of my mind hasn’t proven to be true.

Now, I’m just standing here, thinking about what she’s doing. What they’re doing and, most importantly, why the only thing I’m fixated on right now is convincing Amira to follow after them.

“Nah, I’d much rather have the fresh air,” Amira’s cheerful voice denies my request and pulls me in.

She always has a way of commanding my attention, not only because she has such a strong Geordie twang, but because she shows no ounce of reluctance when it comes to her physical touch.

Now, as I stand paralyzed, she runs a calculated hand up and down the curvature of my chest, forcing me to gulp.

“Besides…” She eliminates any remaining space between us. “I’m sure there are some ways I can warm you up.”

I’ll admit, I’ve never been the best at verbal foreplay, that’s why when I say, “Is that right?” my voice comes out as choppy—unsure, but Amira doesn’t seem to take any notice.

“That’s right,” she hums, dancing her fingertips along my shoulder. “So, tell me, Green . Do you need me to warm you up?”

I’m intrigued by her forwardness, and I know she knows it. Despite my reluctance, I haven’t resisted a single one of her requests yet, just like I don’t resist the way she drags me away from the front entrance and toward the brick at the side of the house.

As I follow behind her, I get a whiff of her perfume. She smells sweet—like flowers in the spring, blooming for the very first time. It’s refreshing, different and intoxicating all at once.

That’s Amira.

She’s all these things and more—leaving me to wonder how I’m the one she’s infatuated with right now. The one who has caught her attention despite the on-lookers around us.

“Miss me?” I’m egotistical as we reach the wall, and she draws me in with a tug of my jumper.

“But of course.” She plays with the strings, twirling them delicately between her fingertips. “But for a while there, I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming tonight.”

I scrunch my face. “What makes you say that?” I can’t help but wonder how she came to that conclusion.

Her face drops ever so slightly. “Well, it took you a really long time to respond back to me earlier. I was worried you were going to stand me up.”

“Stand you up?” I repeat, feeling a sense of remorse. “I would never, Amira. I just—got caught up with something, that's all.” I explain, refusing however to elaborate on what exactly I was caught up in doing. “But you should know that I wouldn't have missed this,” I tell her, but it doesn’t seem to appease her, prompting me to tilt her chin upward and rephrase my words. “I wouldn’t have missed seeing you.”

Amira’s lashes flutter as she seemingly finds her confidence once more. “So, you did miss me then?” she asks eagerly.

I flash her a faint smile. “How could I not?”

Gently, she leans her head back into the brick, running her tongue temptingly along her bottom lip. “Care to show me how much?”

I swallow deeply.

“Don’t you want to talk?” I stutter at her forwardness. “I mean, we only just got here…”

“Talking is overrated.” Amira rolls her eyes with impatience. “Besides, there are other things I’d much rather your lips be doing right now. Now, are you going to kiss me or what, Green ?”

I hesitate, and before I can even realize it—rationalize it, with a huff, I’m pulled into the lips I’ve thought about ever since the first moment I laid eyes on them.

Over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that first kisses are a unique experience. They’re hard to anticipate and even harder to decipher. I’ve never been one to fall into an instantaneous groove with someone, usually it takes a few seconds. The only person that has ever happened with is… Hazel.

In both of the instances where we kissed, it instantly felt right. Like we weren’t struggling to pick a side with one another like I am with Amira right now.

Amira’s lips feel like I've been told to go to a destination without any direction, whereas Hazel’s felt like I didn’t even need to think about where I was going, I just knew how to get there.

My first kisses with Hazel hadn’t left me jittering with nerves but rather electrified by them. A feeling I wish I could hold onto right now as Amira and I awkwardly break away from each other and I start to wonder why, when I look into Amira’s eyes, it’s Hazel that I see staring right back at me.

What is going on?

“I think, uh—” The sound of Amira’s voice forces Hazel to disappear as she uses her palms to wipe along her lips. “We’ve got some practice to do, Green.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and almost instantly, I feel the need to apologize—not just for the kiss, but for my innermost thoughts, though I’d die before I’d admit to them.

“I’m sorry,” I spew out. “I just, uh—was caught off guard, that’s all.”

Not only do I hate the fact that I’m apologizing here, but I hate the way that Amira’s looking at me with this pitying look in her eyes.

It’s awful.

“Awh, that’s okay, Green.” She rubs along my shoulder soothingly. “This is actually a good thing.”

It takes a second for me to process her words, but still, they don’t make sense.

“‘A good thing?” My brows furrow in unison. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Well, I always tell Hazel that I have the best tips and tricks when it comes to romance. And now…” She surveys me up and down. “It looks like this is my time to test that claim. So, let’s try that again.”

And just like that, with another strong tug of my waist, Amira’s back to kissing up on me, only this time with a heightened sense of passion as she takes the lead in directing me through the ways of her lips.

It takes another second, but eventually, I grow entranced by her explorative hands as they work their way up and down my body before guiding me to gently pin her arms back against the smooth brick of the wall.

“That’s it,” Amira loudly groans into my mouth, without a single care of who’s around us. “I knew you had it in you, Green. You just needed a little push, see .”

I gulp back with a nod as slowly my lips make their way toward the nape of her neck where I bury myself inwards and plant slow and tender kisses along her sweet caramel skin.

She squirms in my grasp for a moment as I come up for air before I notice her raise her left arm and gently wave to someone behind me.

“Who are you waving at?” I ask, my head swiveling back to have a look, only Amira stops me before I can as she clutches onto my face.

“How about we go take this inside?” She changes the subject matter suspiciously, and almost immediately, I start to question why. “What do you say, hm?” she asks. “Shall we go in?”

I toy with the thought, debating what to do. Do I get to the bottom of her secretiveness, or do I follow through with her request to go inside?

Inside.

Hazel.

I nod without an ounce of doubt and release Amira from my arms.

“Perfect.” She reaches out for my hand, wrapping our fingertips together. “Follow me.”

Amira’s strength takes me by surprise as she pulls me along behind her, using her dainty frame yet loud and demanding voice to pave the way.

“Excuse me!” she shouts. “We’ve got a professional footballer in the house tonight, and for the record, he can’t afford to have you step on his feet—they’re his money makers. So, make way! Move!”

“I can really advocate for myself,” I protest, apologizing profusely to those around us who flash us both a dirty look, some even going as far as to whisper “tossers” under their breath as we make our way by.

Great, not only have I earned the renounced title as the diva of Crawfield FC, but Hazel is nowhere in sight as I look around.

Where is she?

“Oh, trust me, Green, I know.” Amira side-steps around a wet patch in the carpet before she pulls me down onto the couch beside her. “But hey…” She rests her silky legs on top of my lap and her head on my shoulder. “It’s fun to show you off, I mean…I’ve never dated a footballer before.”

I blink slowly to process her words.

Did she just say what I thought she said?

Dating?

Are we dating?

As in I’m her boyfriend and she’s my girlfriend?

I thought maybe we’d have to have a conversation to establish that first, but given the way she’s smiling up at me, I must stand corrected.

I nervously smile back down at her as she nestles in close, humming a melody against my chest as my eyes can’t help but wander through the crowd in hopes that Hazel will make an appearance. That, or at least Hart…

The guy’s a total unit. He’s almost impossible to miss, and if I spot him, Hazel won’t be far behind.

Yet, as my attention jumps from person to person without any luck, eventually, my eyes land on a mop of brown hair. I squint to refine my vision, but it does nothing, and somehow, without even looking at this person's face, I come to the conclusion that it must be Hazel.

It has to be.

Before I can rationalize what I’m doing, I’ve sat up straight and gently removed Amira’s legs from my thighs, ready to make a bee-line over to her.

“Hey!” Amira pulls on my hand with a wince, stopping me in place as a frown spreads along her face. “You alright?” she asks, tilting her head in confusion. “Where are you going?!”

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head—so disorientated. “It’s just… I promised Hazel we’d spend some time together tonight. The four of us,” I clarify so it doesn’t come across as suspicious. “She’s just over there.” I gesture back. “I just thought I’d go and grab her.”

Amira narrows her confused stare. “Grab her?

What are you talking about? That’s not Hazel!”

I swiftly turn back over my shoulder at her remark. And without needing a second glance as the brunette turns around, I know without a doubt, Hazel, it is not…

“Hazel left, Green,” Amira reveals. “I mean, isn’t it obvious?” She gestures around. “She’s nowhere to be seen!”

I freeze in place.

She left?

It takes everything in me to hold out on this raging internal panic that I feel. It’s strong, it’s aching, and it’s making me question yet again why, anytime Hazel is mentioned, everything else becomes completely wiped from my mind, except her .

“Oh, relax.” Amira stands up, extending one of her hands out to me while using the other to adjust the hem of her red dress. “She left with Hart.”

Her words don’t appease me in the slightest.

“‘Left with Hart’?” I only repeat it back to her because it makes no sense to me.

Left to go where with him?

When did this happen?

Why didn’t I see it?

“Are you sure?” I debate. “How do you know? We’ve been together the entire time.”

Amira’s face is a sea of calm in contrast to my waves of panic. I have to calm down. “I saw them leave while we were outside,” she explains calmly. “You wouldn’t have seen it because, well…” She pulls her hair away from the nape of her neck and taps toward the spot my lips once lingered. “You were a little preoccupied.”

Almost instantly, my uncertainty from earlier starts to make sense. Amira’s wave, she was waving to Hazel.

“I’m happy for her, you know,” Amira admits before I say anything else. “Like I told you earlier, Green, I’ve always tried to give Hazel advice about her love life over the years and tonight, well, she finally took it. Leaving with Hart was a big step. Hopefully, she remembers all the tricks we talked about.”

I swallow hard, but there’s nothing to swallow. My throat is dry and full of thorns, piercing my ability to speak. Piercing my ability to function.

“Anyway…” Amira pulls back with a shrug, reaching for my hand to drag me out of the room. “Let’s go get you a drink, shall we?”

She attempts to step ahead, but I remain glued in place, bringing her to a halt too.

“What?” She tilts her head in question. “Are you not thirsty or something?”

I run my free hand along my mouth before tucking it into my pocket. “No, that's not it,” I tell her. “It’s just, maybe we should, uh…leave ourselves?”

My remark is two-sided. On one hand, I’ll admit, I want to get out of here because I’m already over this party, but the truth is, I only really want to go because I know that if Hazel left with Hart, she wouldn't have gone back to his place. She’s at her dorm.

She has to be.

“Daniel Green.” Amira smirks joyfully as she snuggles into my grasp. “I thought you’d never ask…”

HAZEL

“So, this is my shoebox. I mean dorm room,” I sarcastically remark, swinging open the door to the place I’ve called home for the past four years.

Over the years, Amira and I have requested to be upgraded, but every time we do, we’re either too late or seem to get beaten out by someone else. This campus prioritizes first-year students over everyone else, and with a growing student population, I’m surprised we’ve even been able to stay this long.

Last year, I proposed living off-site. Amira was up for the plan, but when we saw the costs of rentals in and around Crawley, we quickly reneged on the plan and decided that we love this shoebox. This shoebox is the best . Besides, if Amira wants to move to New York City next year, she better get used to small-scale living.

“Aw, it’s not that bad.” I could’ve sworn Hart had to duck his head to step inside. He’s about three inches away from hitting the top of the ceiling at this point. It’s comical, to say the least.

“Really? ‘Not that bad’?” I playfully provoke him as I walk toward my dresser and scour through my clothes.

Hart laughs as he takes a seat on my desk chair. “They say the best things come in small packages. I mean, look at you, Hazel.”

My jaw slacks open as I fold my arms across my chest in a huff. “Christopher Hart,” I call him by his full name solely for dramatic purposes. “Did you seriously just call me short?”

With wide eyes, he starts to stutter. “No, no. I didn’t mean to call you short. I…”

I do an absolutely terrible job of trying to hold it together while Hart reverts to damage control. It’s priceless.

“What I was trying to say was that you’re perfect the way you are and?—”

He stops talking as soon as he catches a glimpse of the sinister smirk on my face.

“ I’m kidding ,” I mouth.

He shakes his head with a sense of amusement. “You’re a bully.”

“And you’re fun to wind up,” I retort. “I guess Green was right about you.”

Green.

Christ. I don’t think I’ve gone longer than ten seconds without thinking about that intimate moment he shared with Amira.

I so desperately wish I could just wipe everything away from my memory, but I can’t. I’ve made my bed, and now I have no other choice but to lie in it.

The fact of the matter here is that I should see their kiss as a reminder. A reminder that I too have an objective I need to accomplish tonight with Hart.

There’s no way I can allow Green to soar miles ahead of me.

No way .

“Alright, you.” Hart stands up from the desk chair and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Go and clean up. That way, we can head back over to the party.”

Hart’s touch lingers on my skin for what feels like ages. All the while, I come to the conclusion that going back to the party is the last thing I want to do tonight.

There’s nothing there for me.

All I need right now is already here with me in this room…

But what about Green? There’s that nagging voice again.

He has no idea where you are.

I brush aside the thought and fixate on another. Green focused on himself tonight. He wasn’t worried about me or where I was. I should focus on myself and not worry about what or who he’s doing.

Stop, Hazel.

“On second thought, Hart.” My mouth moves faster than my mind as I shift my weight from one leg to the other. “How would you feel if we skipped the party and just hung out here instead? You know, maybe watch a movie?”

Hart looks down at me inquisitively.

“Do you have Ghost ?” he asks.

I bite down on my lip.

“Is that even a question?”