Chapter 6
SIX
Lee wasn’t in the habit of waking up before the alarm, but then, he also wasn’t in the habit of sharing a bed with Alex.
Slowly, careful not to jostle the mattress, Lee raised himself up on one elbow to study Alex’s face, relaxed in sleep, lips slightly parted and brown hair a little tousled. He really was beautiful—no wonder since he stemmed from a long tradition of selective breeding.
More than that, though, Lee liked him, liked his smart mouth and subtle sense of humor, how bloody hard he must have worked to be here because no one landed a spot on the national team based on daddy’s clout.
Alex’s family had wealth to match their titles, so he could have chosen to spend his life wasting his parents’ money.
Instead, he was here. Had clawed his way through the youth system just like Lee had, actively defying his father’s wishes while Lee’s mum just hadn’t cared, too busy with her own crap.
With a measured exhalation, Lee turned away to slide out of bed. On silent feet, he padded over to the half-open balcony door, sunlight slanting through where they’d left the curtains partially open last night, painting diagonal lines across the floor.
The air outside was still fresh and tasted of salt, the sun-flooded balcony granting a sweeping view of the beach and the sea beyond.
Lee grabbed a blanket off one of the lounge chairs and wrapped it around himself before he propped his elbows on the railing, letting his thoughts flow in time with the waves.
They’d won.
Japan was next.
Japan ranked quite a bit lower than the Netherlands, so it should be an easier match. On paper, at least.
Alex, still asleep in Lee’s bed.
Pretty boy. What madness had prompted Lee to admit that he’d found his inspiration in porn?
It was a bloody miracle Alex had taken it as well as he had. He had, though, and Lee exhaled through a flash of embarrassed heat. Moving on.
Moving on—to the realization that if Alex got caught sneaking out of Lee’s room, it would be a hard one to explain given they were a tad old for sleepovers.
It could easily lead to someone goading Alex into clarifying that he was into women, not men, and then Lee might be forced to claim the same to circumvent suspicion.
Fuck no. He wasn’t ready to come out, but he’d rather avoid actively lying.
He needed to wake Alex up, send him back to his own room.
After returning inside, Lee pulled the curtains open to let the light in. Alex made a small, protesting noise when sunshine washed over his face, but rather than wake up like Lee had hoped, he rolled away, presenting Lee with the smooth curve of his back.
Well.
That left Lee with three options, as far as he could see. One, water; two, be loud; three, shake Alex awake. As Alex deserved neither water nor being yelled at, door three it was. Lee perched on the empty side of the bed, briefly hesitating before he reached out to lightly touch Alex’s shoulder.
“Hey.”
No reaction.
“Alex?”
A deep breath, Alex’s shoulder shifting under Lee’s touch. Quickly, Lee withdrew his hand, curling it into a loose fist against his stomach. Alex rolled over a moment later, blinking up at Lee through hazy eyes.
“Time to get up,” Lee said softly, refusing to feel shy about their proximity.
“Yeah?” Alex’s voice was sleep-rough, different from their usual morning routine of Alex having been awake for some fifteen minutes already, thrumming with energy, by the time Lee rolled out of bed.
“Yeah.” Lee inhaled and glanced away. “You should sneak back to your room before everyone gets up.”
“Sneak back to my room?” Alex’s smile, still tired around the edges, carried a hint of mischief. “Are you ashamed of me, Lee?”
“You’re hilarious,” Lee told him, dry as chalk.
“Thank you. Not enough people appreciate that about me.” With a yawn, Alex sat up, the sheet falling down to his lap. When he swung his legs out of bed and got up, clad in only his boxers, nothing indicated that he felt any more self-conscious around Lee than he had before.
“Think your sense of humor is like Marmite, mate—an acquired taste.”
Alex threw a grin over his shoulder. “Aww, man. Now that’s just mean.”
“Mean is literally my brand,” Lee said, and it was funny how even two weeks ago, they couldn’t have joked like that.
“And here I thought your brand was built around making goalkeepers cry.”
“Same thing, isn’t it?”
“Valid.” Alex pulled on his T-shirt and grabbed his keycard and phone off the bedside table, then moved to gather his pillow and the sheet. Should Lee get up to walk him to the door? Probably not—it might imply something they weren’t. He stayed on the bed.
“See you at breakfast, I guess?” He wasn’t sure why he’d made it a question. “Thank you for… you know. Being cool about things.”
“Not something that requires a thank you,” Alex said firmly, mouth twisting into a frown. He hesitated for a second, then smiled again. “See you in a bit.”
Lee smiled back. “Inevitably.”
After a furtive look up and down the corridor to make sure the coast was clear, Alex slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door. Once he was gone, Lee got up from the bed, feeling strangely awake, even a little jittery. Meditation and a shower, and he’d be fine.
Alex beat him to breakfast, already nursing a cup of coffee by the time Lee made it onto the terrace.
When Alex caught sight of him, he waved and pointed at the only spot still available at the table he shared with Jeff and Marco.
Since Oliver wasn’t there yet, probably still shacked up with Sanna, Lee made his way over and dropped into the free chair.
“Saved you a seat,” Alex declared with an air of grandeur that implied it was a feat deserving of a medal.
“Did you risk your life defending it?” Lee asked, leaning forward with fake fascination.
“I’d rather not go into detail, if it’s all the same,” Alex said. “Too traumatic.”
“Make sure to work through it with Richard.” Which reminded Lee that he needed to schedule his next session with the team’s psychologist. He appreciated the offer of professional support in unpacking the emotions that came with a high-pressure event like the World Cup, even if Lee sure as hell wasn’t going to let Richard dig too deeply.
While Lee liked him, it was still the Soccer Association that paid Richard’s bills.
Jeff interrupted his conversation with his brother to make a cooing noise. “Look at you two.” He flashed a cheesy smile. “It’s like watching two toddlers flirt on a playground.”
If it had been anyone other than Jeff, Lee would have wondered whether Alex had blabbed. It was Jeff, though, so Lee shot Alex a brief glance that was met with a tiny headshake and a smile. Thought so.
Before either Lee or Alex could comment, Marco jumped in with, “Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you? What with how you’ve never outgrown the toddler mindset.”
“Watch it, young man.” Jeff’s sternest voice wasn’t very stern at all. “One, respect your elders. And two, I lost my virginity when you were still in nappies.”
“If that’s your measure of maturity, I rest my case.”
“You rest your case?” Jeff shook his fork at Marco. “What are you—fifty?”
“I’m a law student. We age prematurely.” Marco’s eyebrown game was truly commendable.
He was also a reasonably attractive guy if a tad too waifish for Lee’s taste, and if last night’s appreciative once-over had been any indication, he wouldn’t be opposed to a hook-up.
Not that Lee had any intention of messing around with Jeff’s little brother, but…
Christ, it had been a while since he’d got laid, and spending a considerable portion of his waking hours around Alex wasn’t helping.
“I’m a law student,” Jeff parroted, his mocking tone at odds with the fondness in his eyes. “Look how smart and important I am!” Before Marco could get in a response, Jeff turned to Alex. “Hey, speaking of pricks! Namely mine.”
“Do I want to know?” Alex asked Lee with overstated apprehension coloring his voice.
“There is no good way to finish a statement that starts with Jeff’s prick,” Lee said.
“Amen, brothers,” Marco said.
“Very funny, Huey, Dewey, and Louie.” Jeff chewed his scrambled eggs with pointed boredom, swallowed, and addressed Alex again. “Back to the topic of pricks, though. Alex, I wanted to check—thought I might invite Isabella to one of our games.”
“Yeah?” Alex looked surprised. “Didn’t realize you stayed in touch.”
“Isabella?” Marco asked.
“Met her at a dinner party that Alex’s mum threw, we got talking.” Jeff nodded at Alex. “I know her family is a bit like yours, so anything I should know before I invite her?”
“Well.” Alex stopped to thank a server for delivering an omelet, and Lee took the opportunity to order a coffee. “Don’t think her folks are as bad as mine,” Alex continued once the server had moved away again. “They don’t hate soccer, so that’s something.”
“Oh, good.” Jeff placed a hand on his heart. “I didn’t want to risk being tarred and feathered for besmirching their daughter.”
“That’s much more American,” Alex told him. “In the UK, we get the job of public shaming done by means of the stocks and the pillory.”
“You’re a great comfort,” Jeff told him.
“You know,” Marco put in, directed at Alex, “you’d think that someone who enjoys publicity as much as your dad would be all over the idea of a son who plays for Queen and country.”
Alex sighed. “I think the problem is as much with it being soccer as it’s about the fact that I chose it for myself.”
“Oh, yes.” Jeff nodded sagely, lips pursed. “How very dare you live your own life?”
“Blasphemy,” Marco agreed while Lee stayed quiet, not sure whether his friendship with Alex was already at the stage where he could openly criticize his parents. Then again, he’d done it before, so…
“Yeah, mate,” he told Alex. “It’s like you have free will or something.”
Jeff gasped. “Surely not.”
Alex shot them a flat look. “You’re all hilarious.”
“We try,” Jeff said modestly.