Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
A torrential thunderstorm hit some sixty minutes into the match.
At first, it was just a few thick drops. Moments later, they turned into a wall of water, visibility reduced to a few feet. As soon as the referee’s whistle called the game to a halt, Lee shielded his eyes against the rain to watch lightning throw multi-branched patterns across the sky.
“The gods must be angry tonight,” Alex shouted, his silhouette distorted by the rain, and Lee laughed.
“Not sure what kind of crap they teach at posh-boy school, but the gods have nothing to do with this.” He paused for effect. “It’s cloud giants, rearranging their furniture.”
“Oh,” Alex said. “I like you—you’re smart!”
They were grinning at each other as they trotted after the other players towards the inner concourse while spectators flocked to the sheltered parts of the stadium.
Part of it was adrenaline, the fact that they were ahead by one goal—a beautiful combination kicked off by Jeff who’d found Alex further up the field, and then Alex and Lee had passed the ball back and forth like a fucking dance until Lee had sealed the deal.
Part of it, yes. But it was also because even though they hadn’t had a private moment since before breakfast, Lee could feel that things between them had changed.
It was small glances and near-invisible touches, deliberately brushing up against each other like it was an accident.
Drenched as they were, the air-conditioned locker room was on the chilly side. When Alex dropped onto the bench next to Lee and peeled off his wet jersey, Lee reminded himself that they were in public. He kept his attention on Alex’s face.
“Hey—we win this, I will voluntarily don a nice button-up later.”
“You say that like you’ll be doing me a favor.” Alex emerged from behind the towel he’d used to dry his hair, wavy strands sticking up in odd little tufts. “Admit it, you like the way it makes you feel.”
“On occasion,” Lee allowed, and it was true that there was something fun about dressing up once in a while. Even more fun when Alex undressed him slowly afterwards, undoing buttons one by one, working his way down Lee’s chest.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Alex said.
Lee reached for his own towel. “Sure, if it makes you happy.”
“It makes me very happy.”
“Lads.” Jeff plopped down next to Alex. “Gentlemen. Fellas. Let’s take this home.”
For some reason, that was the moment it sunk in—they might win this. They might actually win this, and then they’d be in the bloody final, one step away from the title. No matter what Lee had told Alex in the past, he hadn’t really, truly believed that they stood a chance. Now? God, maybe they did.
Lee could feel the room buzzing with barely suppressed excitement as Kieran used the unscheduled break for another warning about staying sharp, they were ahead by just one goal, don’t get cocky, guys. Remember Japan.
They were back on the field half an hour later, the grass soggy and slippery from the downpour, making it much harder to control the ball. Lee lost track of time—all that counted was here and now, the next touch and the next, Alex and Jeff and Declan and Finley moving around him.
A corner kick to Toby. Header. Goal!
Final whistle.
Lee collapsed where he stood, flat on his back in the damp grass, laughing at the sky as wetness soaked through his jersey.
Alex piled on top of him a second later, then Jeff and Oliver and others, a happy, shouting pile of guys Lee had come to know so well over all these weeks.
One of Alex’s cheeks was pressed against Lee’s, flushed from the match, their eyes catching for a moment, weightless, blood rushing in Lee’s ears.
In public, they were in public, and then Jeff yelled about how “We fucking did it, guys!” and Lee dragged his attention away from Alex’s mouth even as he dug his knuckles into Alex’s thigh.
They’d done it.
A short bus ride took them back to the sleek, modern hotel they’d stayed at before, with its tiered olive garden that overlooked the sea.
Lee stopped in his room just long enough to shower and change, then joined the party outside.
To exactly no one’s surprise, Alex wasn’t there yet, always taking a few extra minutes to get ready—but when he showed, he looked and smelled amazing.
God, Lee was so fucking into him he couldn’t see straight.
How long, exactly, did they have to stay?
He floated from group to group for a while to keep up appearances, always aware of his position relative to Alex’s. They finally intersected a few steps away from everyone else, and Alex pulled Lee in for a one-armed hug.
“I’ve got fond memories of this place,” he told Lee in an undertone, a secretive grin curving his mouth. “It’s where you finally succumbed to my charm.”
I want to kiss you.
Lee remembered it—the two of them side by side at the railing, overlooking the night-time sea, and the tipping point when he’d put it out there. Alex’s smile, what’s stopping you?
“I’d succumbed—as you so nicely put it—way before then,” Lee said. “Here’s just where I admitted it out loud.”
“That so?” Humor glinted in Alex’s voice. “Tell me more.”
“How about”—Lee glanced around to make sure no one paid them any mind—“we take this conversation somewhere more private?”
“Are you ashamed of our love, Lee?” The humor in Alex’s voice lingered, and our love, our love.
It was the first time either of them had used the word in even just a joking manner—except it wasn’t a joke, or at least it wasn’t to Lee.
Since he couldn’t quite read Alex’s expression, he tilted his head, letting his lips tug up into a smirk. “Is that a dare?” He took a step closer. “Because I have no problem planting one on you right here and now. Just say the word.”
Alex laughed. “You wouldn’t.”
“Sweetheart, I would.” It was true. Lee hadn’t realized it until now, hadn’t even thought about it before because it was still sinking in that this was real. But if Alex wanted to come out? Lee was game.
“You’re bluffing.” Alex didn’t sound entirely certain though, and Lee let his smirk widen.
“Come on, then. Call my bluff.”
For a second, it looked as though Alex would, staring at Lee. Then his features relaxed and he exhaled another laugh, low and sweet. “Bloody hell, I think you actually are serious.”
“Yup.” Lee paused. “Except I might hesitate because of you. Me, I’d be fine—my sisters would cheer me on, and my mum doesn’t know yet but she’d be okay with it, and with Ben as my coach and Oliver as my captain back home, I’d be all set. You, though? Your dad might just disown you.”
A shadow crossed Alex’s face. “I ducked his calls twice today, so, you know. If I wasn’t the heir with no spare, he’d already be on the phone to his lawyer.”
“His loss.” It was easy for Lee to say that, of course—much harder for Alex to feel it.
“Maybe.”
Since Lee didn’t like the somber expression in Alex’s eyes, he clinked their bottles together. “To doing things our own fucking way.”
“Hear, hear.” A smile slid over Alex’s face. “The final, Lee. Can you fucking believe it?”
“Not really, no. Pinch me?”
Alex proceeded to do just that, except Lee caught his wrist and trapped it—which of course meant that Alex set his bottle down and tried again with his newly freed hand.
They grappled for a few moments, grinning wildly, Lee spilling non-alcoholic beer over both of them while Alex protested loudly and dramatically.
When Jeff started cheering for Alex, it prompted Oliver to do the same for Lee, and then a good number of their teammates and supporting staff were flocking over to witness the excitement, drawn like moths to a flame, placing imaginary bets, shouting tips and encouragement.
The whole thing ended when Lee managed to trap Alex against him, Alex’s back to his front, Lee’s arms tight around him and Alex laughing too hard to put up much of a fight.
“And this,” Lee said smugly, “is where state-school education beats posh-boy school.” He very nearly punctuated the statement with a kiss to Alex’s cheek before he remembered their audience—amused faces and applause for Lee, with only Jeff and Oliver clued into how this was more than just two teammates grappling for a good laugh.
It was kind of amazing what they could get away with in public.
“I didn’t pack my wrestling blazer,” Alex countered, dusting off his shoulders once Lee released him. He was smiling, eyes bright and happy even in the dim glow of lights strung along the olive trees.
Now that the action was over, the cluster of people around them drifted away. Lee waited until it was just him and Alex before he tilted his head, watching Alex from underneath his lashes. “So. My place or your place?”
“Whichever’s closer.”
“Excellent choice.” Lee nudged their elbows together. “Leave soon?”
“How soon is now?” Alex asked.
“I can grab my stuff and come over in ten minutes or so?”
At Alex’s surprised glance, Lee realized it would be the first time he’d be the one sneaking into Alex’s room. Before he could add anything to that effect, Alex sent him a beaming smile. “It’s a date.”
It wasn’t, really—just the two of them hiding away in their own little corner of the world while Lee swallowed back words that Alex might not be ready to hear just yet.
And still it was brilliant, better than anything Lee had ever felt before.
Granted, his experience was limited, but… fuck, this was it.
The big one.
But Alex had pulled away once already, if briefly, and Lee couldn’t even blame him.
Between the mess that Alex’s dad had created and the fact that this was Alex’s first practical foray into gay territory, all against the backdrop of the World Cup…
It was a lot to take in. So if Lee had to tread carefully? He would do just that.
“Sounds good,” he said lightly, returning Alex’s smile.
Lee could be patient.
The next evening, Brazil thrashed Spain in a 4–0 victory.