2. Reece
Chapter 2
Reece
‘Last one to the top pays for dinner,’ I grin, revving my Ferrari’s tuned-up engine. ‘And I’m talking VIP seat at La Modo.’
‘So… you’re paying then?’ Trent replies, flashing me his million-dollar smile. ‘Surf’s up, motherfucker.’
With that, Trent floors his accelerator and gets an early lead on me in his gleaming white Porsche 911.
I might have been one of the fast soccer players in my peak, but these days I’m all about getting my kicks in other ways.
For near enough two decades, the name Reece Bellham was synonymous with soccer. I might have grown up in New York, but I made my name at some of the Europe’s biggest soccer clubs across their toughest, most glamorous championships.
With my soulful brown eyes and high cheekbones, I was never short of attention.
My sandy blonde hair and multitude of haircuts garnered countless articles and attention over the years – there was no denying that I was always a star attraction wherever I played. Sure, I had talent in abundance. But the media would always look to make the most out of my looks too.
Italy? I was Milan’s master.
Spain? They called me the real king of Madrid.
England? I was London’s Daddy – if only the media knew LOL!
But that was then.
I’m no longer the teen sensation of old.
And my prime years in my late twenties and early thirties are behind me.
I might be thirty-nine and finally retired from professional soccer, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still know how to live life on the edge.
My buddy Trent and I love nothing more than racing our cars on the deserted roads of Los Torros canyon.
Retirement is fun, there’s no denying that.
I’ve got enough money to last me several lifetimes and homes across the globe. Anything I want is pretty much within my reach – or if not, I know I can pay a man to make it that way.
And yet…
As great as my life is – and I truly know how privileged I am – there is something missing.
It turns out that all the money, diamonds, and exotic vacations in the world don’t quite match up to the thrill of playing high stakes professional sport week in, week out.
But right now, I don’t have time to get all misty eyed about my former days as a pro soccer player. Right now I simply need to focus my mind on taking this steep uphill curve and squeezing my Ferrari past Trent’s Porsche…
‘Gotcha!’ I laugh, whizzing past Trent and pulling into the gravelly verge that overlooks the town and then the beach beyond that.
‘ Pfft . You got lucky,’ Trent shouts, a broad smile on his face as he pulls up next to me. ‘How did you do it? Don’t tell me, you were imagining that your dream boy was waiting for you on all fours with his tushy all on display?’
‘Hey, whatever bro,’ I laugh, trying not to rise to the bait.
‘Come on, just admit it,’ Trent says, his ocean blue eyes piercing through my defense and getting to the truth as they usually do. ‘You’ve been quiet on the subject for a minute, but your best bro Trent knows. You want a boy. And not just any party boy. You want a boy to call your own…’
I nod.
It’s pointless trying to deny it.
Being a professional soccer play abroad meant I was mixing with a lot of different cultures and beliefs. I respected how my teammates lived their lives, and I knew they would have mostly felt the same about me.
But the press? That was a whole other thing.
Had the media got a hold on the fact that I was a Daddy, I honestly don’t know how I would have been able to handle it. The press scrutiny would have been crazy, and that’s before factoring in how a hostile rival supporter fanbase would have reacted too.
So, long story short… I’ve always hidden my real identity.
Millions may have known me as Reece Bellham, the infamous New York Nightmare, but no one ever knew who I was off the soccer field. It just wasn’t something that I ever allowed even the slightest hint about.
I simply considered myself lucky to be doing a job that I loved – and if that meant that I had to hide one part of my identity, then that was just about okay with me.
But with retirement kicking in, my mind had been wandering and thoughts of settling down with a special baby boy were on my mind.
The idea of having a wonderful boy to care for, cuddle, and discipline too was something that kept me up late at night – and it was a feeling that was only getting stronger with each passing month too.
‘So, I’ll take that single nod as an emphatic hell yeah ,’ Trent laughs, breaking me out of my thoughts. ‘What’s stopping you? There’s a hundred sweet little boys in this city who’d do anything to be yours. And that’s not counting the thousands around the world.’
I consider my answer.
Trent probably knows what I’m going to say, but I try to think about it and come up with a fresh angle.
But as I think, I look in my rear view mirror and see a car lurking in the distance. I don’t know for sure and I’ve got no evidence… but it’s a sight all too familiar to me.
‘Motherfucking paparazzi,’ I growl, flicking a middle finger in the air in the car’s direction. ‘Let’s bounce.’
‘Hey, at least it gives us motivation to get to dinner even quicker, right?’ Trent laughs, revving his engine and getting ready to make the descent from atop Los Torros Canyon and back down to the town below.
After a chilled dinner with Trent, I went home and pretty much did was I always do. I watched the basketball highlights, football highlights, the baseball highlights, and of course the soccer highlights too.
Not only that, but I stayed up late to watch the big Italian derby game in Milan that I fell in love with during my years in Italy.
I may be a retired soccer player, but my passion for sports has most certainly not retired.
While yesterday evening may have been business as usual, I’ve actually got something a little bit different going on today.
The place I live in now is great.
Honestly, I couldn’t ask for much more.
Except… it’s a rental and the landlord won’t sell no matter how high I take my offer.
I know there’s probably a crazy money amount I could name that would get the right answer, but it’s got to the point now where I can see that the landlord wants me to pay Reece Bellham money rather than what the place is actually worth in the real world.
I was never one to accept disrespect on the soccer field and I’m not about to start that now either. As far as the landlord is concerned, I’ll keep my money out of his pockets and he can kiss my ass.
After an extensive property search, I actually found a piece of land that was ripe for development. A large plot with incredible views, it offers me the one thing that I crave above pretty much everything else… privacy .
The plot of land wasn’t cheap, and building my dream home will cost me a significant amount too.
But I grew up in a tough part of New York City, and ever since I was old enough to kick a ball I’ve been battling and fighting every day to earn my keep.
I’ve come a long way in my life.
Growing up, it was just me, my five sisters, and my mom too. Mom worked two jobs, plus an extra job at the weekend. Life was tough. We learned how to make the best of things, and we usually did that with a smile on our faces too.
I made sure that my mom and sisters were looked after as my career took off, and they’re all living their best lives now. It makes me feel proud to have contributed something to their lives.
So, yeah, if I do have to spend a few million on my dream home I’ll do it with a smile on my face and knowing that I’ve paid my way in life and helped those around me too.
Speaking of my dream home build, it’s time for me to get my butt out of my SUV and see exactly what’s going on at the construction site. I’ve put a lot of faith in this construction firm, and I’m keen to see that faith repaid – or else.
I get out my SUV and adjust my shades.
The hot sun is beating down on me and in all honesty I probably couldn’t have picked a worse time to do a site inspection. It’s roasting hot and I can already feel myself start to sweat.
‘Come on, get a grip,’ I laugh, my mind throwing back to the time I played an international tournament in the Middle East. ‘I’ve been through much worse. Wait… who the hell is that?’
I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing.
Right here, clearly on my property, is a man with a big ass camera and even bigger lens attached to it. Something tells me he’s not taking photographs of the resident wildlife either…
‘Hey, you, asshole !’ I roar. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
It’s time to find out precisely who this man is and what in all Los Torros he thinks he’s doing…