Chapter 9
Niko
Sweat beads along my forehead and my hands feel clammy as Coach calls my number. “Eleven!” he barks. “You’re in.”
He’s putting me in the game. The first game for the season. My first game in Europe. I’m about to step onto the field and a mixture of anticipation, nerves, and excitement flood my system.
I approach Coach and he grabs the back of my jersey. When I look at him, his expression is stern, his eyes cold. He holds up one finger. “Take your time. Keep your head. One chance, Karas, that’s all you’ll get.”
I nod. I have one fucking shot to prove myself. All week sports commentators and blogs speculated whether I would play today. It’s happening and I’m ready. Hell, I’ve been waiting for this chance.
The stadium is eclectic. Thousands of fans roar, their feet stomping in the bleachers. Flags wave, drums thud, and the energy—excitement, tension, urgency—is so palpable that I taste it. Inhale it. Let it wash over me and cement me to this moment. This is it.
I glance up into the stands where my brother and Ellie are sitting. Thank God they’re here. Knowing they’re watching, that my entire family in Chicago is tuned in, I take a deep breath and run onto the field. This is what I’ve worked for. This is what we’ve all worked towards.
I play clean, confident, and mindful soccer, waiting for my shot. I keep my head on straight, look for openings, and bide my time. Patience.
In the seventy-first minute, an opportunity presents itself. Midfielder Jorgen Dahl wins back possession of the ball in the midfield. He keeps the ball tight to his body as his eyes scan the field.
“Go! Go!” I hear Stavros shout from the sidelines.
I take off from the halfway line, keeping my eye on Jorgen. Sweat coats the back of my neck. Adrenaline pumps in my veins. The wind whistles in my ears.
I shoulder between the center backs as Jorgen sends me a perfectly weighted kick, ensuring the ball drops one step in front of me as I burst forward.
The crowd roars and the tempo shifts. I feel the change. The back of my neck prickles with awareness. This is it. This is the moment.
I handle the ball in stride, control it, set it, and as the goalie charges forward, I make my move.
Dropping my shoulder, I cut on the inside as the last defender between me and the goal, save for the goalie, slips past. Focusing, I go in for my shot, curling the ball low and aiming for the far post. The goalie lunges but it’s too late.
The ball sails into the net, ensuring our lead of a 2-1 score.
The stadium goes wild.
Holy fucking shit. I stare, in shock, for one minute before Jorgen is on top of me. My team huddles around me, slapping my back, tousling my hair, and finally, fucking finally, embracing me as one of theirs.
That evening, after the post-game media where I gave interviews, smiled for photos, and signed autographs, I’m shocked when Jorgen joins Stavros, Ellie, Dimi, and me for dinner. We head to a steakhouse and celebrate the win, with my two teammates toasting my success.
It means a lot to me that they made the effort to come out. But the real partying kicks off after dinner. Although Jorgen and Stavros beg off, Ellie and Dimi insist.
“Dimi can’t hang!” Ellie hollers into my ear a few hours later.
“Where is he?” I turn, looking for my brother.
We’re in the center of a club. Lights pulse, music blares, and the alcohol flows freely. It’s not my usual scene. Hell, I haven’t partied like this since I first signed with Chicago. But I promised my brother and Ellie a good, no, a great time. And here I am, delivering.
“He went back to your place,” Ellie explains.
“Alone?”
She gives me a look.
“He took a woman back to my place?!”
Ellie snickers. “Do you expect anything else? He’s a nineteen-year-old American in Germany for the first time and his brother just won a game for Stuttgart. The kid’s got some credibility.”
I laugh, nodding in agreement. “Facts.”
“Want to get out of here? Grab a drink somewhere…quieter?” Ellie asks, tugging on my arm.
“Shit, El, we’re getting old,” I admit, steering her toward the exit.
“I know,” she agrees as we burst out of the club and into the cooling night air. “My sister is going to turn me prematurely gray.”
Even though I haven’t drunk enough to be drunk, I am tipsy as hell. Ellie must be too because she stumbles beside me and I wrap my arm around her waist to keep her steady.
“How’s Quinn doing?” I ask as I lead her to The Social House. It has a great rooftop bar and this is probably one of the last weekends we’ll be able to enjoy it before the weather dips.
“Good this week because she’s with her aunt and cousins. In general?” Ellie gives me a look. “That girl begs for trouble to find her.”
“Drugs?”
“Not this time.” Ellie shakes her head. “She’s tangled up with this guy…” She trails off. We find a table along the perimeter of the rooftop and sit down. “He’s…possessive.”
Concern kicks up. “Is he going to be a problem?”
“Maybe,” she murmurs. Then, she closes her eyes and presses her fingertips to her eye sockets. “Probably.”
“El, you have to—”
“I’ll tell you when I need help.”
I sigh, hating what she’s alluding to. Knowing that she already needs help, support, now, and realizing that there’s not much I can do from here. “I can come to Texas over our first break and—”
“No, you can’t.” Ellie places her hand on my forearm and squeezes. “I appreciate that, Niko, but it’s unrealistic. And I don’t need help yet.”
“Will you tell me when you do? For real?”
She nods. “Yes. If it gets that complicated, I promise I’ll let you know.”
“Good.”
She squeezes my forearm again. “Thank you, Niko. I have no idea how I would have made it this far without you and your family.”
“You’re doing a great job, Ellie. You know that, don’t you?”
She snorts. “It doesn’t feel like it most days. It feels like I’m constantly questioning myself.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out. “I’ve felt that way lately too. The only difference is I’m only thinking about my shit. You’re thinking about yourself and Quinn.”
The server stops at our table and we order a couple of pints of beer.
“It’s different,” Ellie agrees, tucking strands of her blonde hair behind her ears. She ducks her head as she tugs her hair into a low bun and fastens it with a hair tie. “The second you’re responsible for someone else’s well-being…shit. Everything changes instantly.”
“Quinn’s lucky to have you.”
Ellie smiles softly. “I’m the lucky one. She saved me just as much as I helped her.”
Our beers arrive and we silently clink them together.
“Congrats on your win, Niko,” Ellie murmurs.
“Thanks for being here, El. It means a lot to me.”
“Always. You know we’re family.”
“Yeah,” I agree, taking a pull of my beer.
Ellie and I talk into the early morning hours. I wait until my brother informs me that he closed with the woman he brought home and tucked her into an Uber.
Ellie rolls her eyes when I show her Dimi’s text. “Can you even imagine doing that shit now?”
“We’re not that old, El.”
“Feels like we are,” she murmurs. “I needed this trip more than I realized, Niko.”
“Yeah. I needed time with you and Dimi more than I realized too,” I share. “Come on.” I stand from my seat. “Let’s go home.”
Tucking Ellie under my arm, we walk the handful of streets to my apartment. When we get there, Dimi is already snoring on the couch. Ellie laughs, tousling his hair. I toss her a pair of sweats and indicate that she takes my bed as I pass out on the air mattress Dimi was supposed to sleep on.
I pull the comforter over my shoulders and turn, my eyes instantly closing. But I can’t help the smile that cuts my face. Today, I helped my team win. But even better? I got to celebrate with Dimi and Ellie. I’d sleep on an air mattress every night if it meant having days like today.
There’s no substitute for being with the people you love.