10. H A Z E L
TEN
H A Z E L
Today’s the day.
The day Green and I officially commence the plan. Today’s goal is simple. Green needs to catch the attention of Amira, and I need to catch the attention of Hart.
The only suitable location for both parties to be present? Crawfield’s stadium.
I had to practically beg Amira to join me in attending today’s game. I guess after all this time, I finally understand how she feels when she asks me to go to parties.
“It’s going to be cold though,” she protested.
“So? Bring a blanket.”
“But what do I even wear?”
“I have a shirt for you, don’t worry.”
“Are the chairs made of like…cheap plastic?”
Christ, she nearly did my head in, but after much persistence and reassurance, somehow, someway, the two of us have made it to the stands where we both sit in patient anticipation for today’s game to begin.
My teeth chatter as I press my thighs together and wrap my jacket around me for warmth. I wore the dress, hell, hopefully it’s not only going to be the turning point in today’s plan, but the thing that makes Hart turn his head in my direction.
“Can you quiet down for a second?” Amira asks as she sits to my right. “I’m trying to film a story for Instagram.”
My eyes widen at her request. “I’m sorry,” I mock sarcastically. “Let me just stop freezing my arse off over here for Instagram. So sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Apology accepted.” She doesn’t pick up on the satire in my tone as she films not one, not two, but three stories to tell all of her followers where she is.
I roll my eyes. She sounded extremely excited for someone who hardly wanted to come out of the dorm room.
“So, when does the game start?” Amira asks as fans begin to pile into their seats around us. “It’s taking forever for the innings to kick off.”
“First off, that’s baseball and second, you’ve been sitting down for a grand total of thirty seconds.” I peer down at my watch. “You do realize how long a football match is, right?”
Amira flashes me a clueless stare, prompting my head to fall into my hands. “This is going to be a long day.” My internal thoughts come outward.
“Oh, here they come! Here they come!” Amira seems to find a new-found sense of enthusiasm as both teams now line the pitch and in a twist of events before I scan the field for Green, I search for Hart instead.
He’s one of the first to walk onto the grass and if I’m being honest, the easiest to distinguish. There’s a confidence in his stride, a pep in his step if you will, if I’m being honest, a downright intoxicating look on his face as he runs his tongue along his lower lip in concentration.
It’s enticing…enticing enough that I don’t feel compelled to break my gaze even though I can see Green in my peripheral vision. I hold on for dear life, and it’s the first time I actually do, instead finding more things about Hart that draw me into him.
I will say I’ve always loved the sound of his voice. It’s husky… deep , and when he shouts on the field, I swear the entire stadium goes silent. I like that about him, not his ability to be the loudest in the room, but that whenever he speaks, he makes you want to hear what he has to say.
I quizzed Green on Hart leading up to today. It was important to know some basic details about him. I hadn’t realized just how surface-level things were between the two of us.
Turns out Hart’s the middle child. One older brother, one younger sister. His dad is a former sniper in the UK army, while his mum was a stay-at-home parent. He’s been on Crawfield for almost exactly the same period of time as Green, only his path to get there was much different.
Green says he’s always been quiet when it comes to his past, and all he knows is that when he was younger, Hart went to Spain to train. I asked for more details, but he said all he knew was that it didn’t last long and eventually, Hart came back. Beyond that, he’s clueless about the situation.
These are all good things to make note of, reminding me of step four: learn a secret about them. Maybe if Hart and I get close enough he’ll eventually share with me about the past and if he does, then I suppose only one thing will remain…
I’m getting too ahead of myself here.
“Is that Green?” Amira points toward the defensive line, squinting to get a better good look.
It’s surprising to me that she even needs to clarify, I mean, she’s spent the last few days deep-diving Green’s social media, digging up a series of photos I didn’t even know were on there, most of which were shirtless one’s that she had to make a point to show me…
Focus on Hart. Focus on Hart.
“Yep, that’s him,” I tell her, prompting her to wave in his direction. Looking over our way he’s receptive to it and waves back.
His plan to catch her attention today? Score a goal.
I don’t know how he plans on accomplishing that from the defensive line, but more power to him. I hope he does, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him score. I want to see it happen again.
“But what if that backfires?” I asked him. “Then what?”
“Then I’ll just have to whip my shirt off and flex my big muscles in her direction,” he joked. “That’ll get her attention, don’t you think?”
I replay our conversation in my mind and it prompts me to laugh—a laugh I do a terrible job at concealing as Amira looks my way.
“What’s so funny?” she asks with a cock of her brows. If hers are sisters then mine are very distant relatives.
I cough, there’s nothing lamer than having to say “Oh, sorry, I just made myself laugh,” so instead I opt for “Nothing.”
Classic.
She rolls her eyes before refocusing on her phone.
“Look up,” I instruct her. “The game is about to start.”
My announcement prompts Amira to peel her eyes away from her phone and stare back onto the field.
“ Ugh . How can you tell?” she asks, groaning as she attempts to get comfy in her chair.
I point ahead. “They just finished the coin toss, and any second now, the whistle will blow and?—”
The game kicks off and suddenly, Amira’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“What?” I’m compelled to ask, snuggling into my jacket to warm myself up.
“Ninety minutes?” she speaks, her eyes fixated on the scoreboard. “Really?” Her head falls back in a huff.
“Plus added time,” I tell her, trying not to laugh at her theatrics. “Now, sit back, relax and get comfortable, the game has only just begun.”
As the final whistle blows, the game comes to a draw.
Today’s team from Wolverhampton was tough. They had strong players and frankly better possession of the ball. After they scored in the first ten minutes of the match, I really thought that this might be one of Crawfield’s first losses of the season, but with a final corner ball to conclude the last fifteen seconds of the match, Coach demanded that all of the players, the keeper included, make their way into the box to see if they could make some magic happened.
They did.
Lo-and-behold, true to his word, as he made his way forward, Green managed to head the ball into the net. The stadium was in uproar; even Amira jumped for joy after I reminded her for the hundredth time to stop living behind her phone screen and live in the moment.
Thankfully, I told her when I did otherwise, she would’ve missed his goal, not to mention the way that after he finished celebrating with the team, he ran along the side, pointed to Amira, and mouthed, “ That one was for you .”
I won’t lie, it stung a little. Especially given that Green’s gesture more than just caught Amira’s attention, it became the only thing she wanted to focus her attention on—and now as we exit the stands and weave our way over to the field, ready to be guided back by Delaney, Amira’s practically itching to break away from me.
“You’re not wearing a Crawfield jersey today.” Delaney is the first to notice the change in my outfit as she clings onto Matty at her hip. “How come?”
I shrug casually. “I thought I’d uh—try something different today.” I wrap myself beneath my coat. “Besides…” I look over to Amira who sports my shirt instead. “I, um…thought I’d lend it out.”
“That was generous of you,” Delaney remarks. “Wasn’t it, Matty?” She looks down at him for an answer. He babbles in response, compelling Delaney to flash me a look.
God…does even baby Matty see right through me?
Everyone, Delaney inclusive, has got this false hope that one day, Green and I will magically end up together, but sometimes fairy tales don't always come true. I’ve realized that, the sooner they do, the better.
“So is this where you guys usually wait for the team?” Amira asks as we stand amidst the other friends and family who wait out back following the game.
“Sure is,” I tell her. “The guys should be out soon, so just wait here and?—”
“Green!” Amira breaks away from my side and sprints forward before I can even catch sight of him myself. As she does, I have to remind myself to stay where I am. After all, now is the time for me to hopefully be just as successful with my first step of the plan as Green was.
Here goes nothing.
Reluctantly I remove my jacket, folding it within my arms as I turn my back to the place where the boys usually exit out from and steady my breathing.
“Be fun. Be friendly. Be confident,” I remind myself under my breath. “Be personable. Be open. Be willing. Be?—”
“ Hazel .”
That familiar husky voice prompts me to turn over my shoulder, and immediately, I look up into the eyes of none other than Christoper Hart.
“Hart.” I don’t know why I say his name first rather than a hello but I do. “Hey…” I finally sputter out next. “How uh—are you?”
God, I’m so incredibly awkward. It’s cringy.
“No complaints here, love. And you?” he responds, all the while his icy blue eyes scan me up and down, somehow, it warms me up.
“I’m good…great, even. Thanks for uh—asking.”
He smiles down at me, eyes locked onto my face.“You look lovely, Hazel,” he remarks, taking a step back in the process. “ Wow .” His hand brushes along his mouth. “I love that dress on you. It’s absolutely stunning.”
I instantly start blushing, clutching onto my jacket much firmer by now, one he immediately offers to hold for me. It’s a kind gesture, but if I’m really reading into it, I’m pretty sure he wants to get a better look at me. I need to stop thinking everything is just an ulterior motive.
Get your head in the game.
“Thanks,” I tell him, hiding behind my hands this time as I pass it to him. “It’s uh—new. I just got it,” I tell him as confidently as I can without breaking eye contact. “So, I thought, hey, why not wear it to the footie?”
I’m literally going to cry about this interaction tonight.
“Well, it was a grand decision.” Hart doesn’t seem to pick up on how awkward I am in the slightest as he carries on. “I was actually out here looking for you and let’s just say, I didn’t expect to see you in this.”
I’ve caught his attention.
Tick.
“You were looking for me?” I’m not sure why the comment makes me squirm the way it does but I like it.
“Yeah.” He rubs behind his neck. “I wanted to come over and talk to you.” His movements are minor, but even then, I watch as he takes the faintest step toward me. I refuse to retaliate back and I’m glad I don’t, given that the closer he gets, the more I’m able to take in his scent.
It’s musky, almost a woodsy aroma, yet as he leans down to talk there’s even a subtle hue of vanilla. It’s a unique combination, one that only draws me in closer myself.
“You know, Hazel.” I love the way he says my name with that London accent. “I was talking to Green about you the other day,” he reveals, yet keeps the context of their discussion open-ended.
I play dumb.
“Is that right?” I remark—acting as if I had no idea Green was going to speak to him on my behalf. “And whatever were you two talking about?”
Whatever were you two talking about?
Am I in a renaissance movie?
Holy shit.
Paying no attention to my old English, Hart smirks, running his thumb along his bottom lip. “Give me your number, Hazel, and maybe we can talk about it later.”
Smooth.
I can’t remember the last time I was flirted with, but it can’t help but feel like forever. I’m out of touch, out of rhythm, as I allow a silence to fall between us.
Dammit, I should’ve already pulled my phone out of my pocket by now and handed it over to him, but I’m slow, uncoordinated, nowhere near as direct as he is…
“If that’s okay with you, of course,” Hart jumps back in, the look on his face tells me that he’s working some damage control, given I’ve remained notoriously hush.
Say something!
“No, no. Of course, that’s okay,” I force myself to speak up. “Let me just, uh—grab my phone.” I fiddle with the zippers on my bag, but of course, I can’t seem to get it open. “Christ, I’m sorry, I?—”
“It’s okay.” Hart places a hand over top of mine, halting me in place. Jesus, his hands are huge. “How about you just put your number into my phone instead?” He gestures in my direction. “It’ll make things easier. Don’t you think so?”
There’s something about the way my hand has disappeared under the breadth of his, and for the first time, I feel something… butterflies …excitement. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt for anyone. Anyone but…
“I’d love to.” I continue to rewire my brain as I carefully type in each digit of my phone number before gently placing his phone back into his hand.
“Thanks.” He smiles down at me once more. “I look forward to filling you in on mine and Green’s conversation.”
I suck in the faintest of breaths as I faintly nod up at him. “Me too.”
A quiet falls between us like before, only this time I’m not fretting about how stupid I’m acting, I’m using the time as a means to assess Hart’s intricate features.
His full lips.
His un-tame yet thick brows.
The dimples in his right cheek as he smiles, yet most of all, the look of new beginnings radiating from him onto me.
I like it.
“Well, I hate to bounce, but my family is here today, so I’m going to go over and say hi to them, if that’s alright with you?”
His family is here but he came to me first?
“Oh, absolutely.” I nod, gesturing for him to casually go despite squirming internally. “Don’t let me hold you back. Go say hi to them. Say hi for me too.”
“Will do.” He nods, taking a subtle step backward, but he only gets a few feet before suddenly he stops, realizing that my jacket is still within his grasp. “Shoot, can’t forget this.” He walks it back over to me, opening it up so that he can help me to put it on.
Blushing majorly I turn around, willingly accepting his help as I slip on one sleeve at a time before turning back to face him.
“I’ll give you a ring soon.” He leans in to plant a tender kiss on my cheek, his stubble ticking against the soft of my skin before he pulls back, smiles and eventually finally walks away.
It’s a conflicting feeling. I don’t want to take my jacket off because he only just helped me to put it on, but Christ, I’m on fire as a result of his touch.
I bite down on my lip, running my cool palms across my cheeks as a means to cool myself down, only as I do, silently squealing to myself all I can see across the way is Green—staring.
Keeping a watchful eye before Amira tugs on his shoulders and pulls him back in.
He was watching.