Chasing Fields (Love On The Lines #1)

Chapter 1

ALEX

It was cool tonight.

Not enough to warrant a coat, but the air definitely had a bite to it, and I was glad I’d thrown on my black zip-up hoodie. It was early midnight in late August, and summer was already slipping away. The UK never held onto warmth for long.

School started next week, first day of sixth form, and - dare I say it - I was actually excited. Excited to have six hours a day to myself, even if it meant being surrounded by a bunch of assholes. It was still better than being at home.

Two more years. Just two more years until I was off to university and finally out of this place - this suffocating little town I still had to call home.

As I walked, hands shoved deep into my jean pockets, the crisp breeze threaded through my hair, tugging loose curls into my line of sight. It had gotten longer than I meant to let it - the front strands falling over my eyebrows, brushing my lashes every so often when I blinked.

I needed a haircut. Badly.

I ran my fingers through it, pushing it back out of my face as I turned the corner, the wind catching it again the moment I let go.

I heard the music before my eyes landed on the house.

Princes Road.

It was exactly what it sounded like.

I’d crossed into the rich side of town, where the gigantic houses towered over me like they owned the whole street.

Most were gated, with driveways big enough for three or four cars and garages that could hold a few more.

Every lawn was perfectly trimmed, not a blade out of place - a far cry from the semi-detached house I lived in, where if my neighbour so much as coughed, I heard it through the wall.

There was always a lot of business here - rich people willing to blow in a single night what most people earned in a month.

As I approached the house the gate was open. I pushed at it lightly and let myself in.

The white house was large, a lot bigger than some I had passed. Standing at four stories high, it had a longer driveway and separate buildings on the plot. Guest houses, I think they called them.

The windows on the first and second floors flashed bright reds, blues, pinks, greens - each beat of the music sending another burst of colour across the glass.

The bass hummed so loudly it felt like the ground itself was vibrating under my feet.

Cars were crammed along the driveway, and clusters of people hovered around them, talking, laughing, stumbling.

Others drifted in and out, drinks in hand, smoke curling from the groups gathered near the hedges.

I recognised a few faces from school, but there were plenty I didn’t.

I’d delivered to school parties before, but never to this house. My brother had told me the order was for someone named Callum, so I guessed that’s who lived here.

I walked up the steps ignoring the party roaring around me and pushed open the front door.

Heads turned, but not in recognition - just a quick glance to register I existed before everyone slipped right back into their conversations.

No one really looked at me. That was a talent I seemed to have. I was invisible. And I liked it.

I made eye contact with a dark-haired kid in a blue denim jacket, white trainers, a plain white T-shirt, and grey trousers.

He was leaning against the wall with a girl on his arm.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty - she was - it’s just that I’d never seen girls that way, and I wasn’t about to start now.

I was pretty sure his name was Henry or something close. He was popular, played on the football team, so he seemed like a good bet for finding this Callum.

“I’m looking for Callum,” I said, clearing my throat.

“Out back.” He pointed behind him, toward an archway that looked like it led into the kitchen. Then he turned straight back to the blond girl, who gave me a quick side-glance before flicking her hair and focusing on Henry again.

I gave him a nod in acknowledgement, then pushed my way through the crowds and around what passed for a dance floor. A DJ booth was set up along the back wall, lights spinning while people packed in front of it, dancing and shouting over the music.

A massive island dominated the left side of the room, covered in bottles, plastic cups, and bowls of crisps along with whatever other party food someone had dumped there.

At the edge of it, two guys were piercing cans of beer and chugging them like it was a sport.

I recognised them from my classes, though I couldn’t have told you their names.

The glass double sliding doors to the garden were open, letting people drift in and out as they pleased. The smell of weed and cigarettes hit me the second I stepped outside, thick in the cool night air.

A bonfire burned at the far end of the garden, throwing orange light over a circle of people slouched in deck chairs, laughing and shouting over one another with drinks in hand. Most of them had someone perched on their lap, tangled together in that messy, party-night way.

I approached slowly, catching bits of their conversation as I got closer.

“So what did you tell Jessica in the end?” one of them asked a boy sitting with his back to me, his face hidden in the firelight.

“None of your business,” the boy snapped back.

“I know what he said to her,” one of the girls chimed in from Bryce’s lap.

I recognised him - another footballer - and the girl was Frankie.

Everyone knew Frankie. She was one of the most popular girls in school, and she and Bryce were the it couple.

Bryce was dark-skinned, muscly, and built like a brick wall, while Frankie was petite and fair, pretty much his opposite in every way.

But somehow, they worked. Or at least, they looked like they did from the outside.

“No one likes a tattletale, Frankie.” The boy poked, still not looking up.

Frankie rolled her eyes. “Please. It’s not even bad. You’re acting like it’s some big secret.”

Bryce smirked, tightening his arm around her waist. “Go on then. If you’re gonna stir the pot, at least commit.”

The boy groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

Frankie leaned forward, chin lifted like she’d been waiting all night for this. “He told Jessica he needs to focus on football this year,” she announced, adding dramatic air quotes. “No distractions.”

A couple of the guys snorted. Someone muttered, “Classic.”

“That’s right.” One of the boys clapped the guy on the shoulder. “You don’t need to be hung up on any girl, especially the likes of Jessica Miller.”

“Erm, what’s that supposed to mean?” Frankie shot back immediately.

“Yeah, Jessica’s our friend,” another girl added - Cassie, I was pretty sure.

“She might be your friend,” Freddie said - the goalie, if I remembered right - “but she’s run through half of ours.”

Laughter broke out around the fire, loud and unfiltered, but the girls didn’t look impressed.

“That’s such a lie,” Frankie whined, folding her arms. “She’s a lovely girl.”

“Yeah, lovely at opening her legs,” Freddie replied, still grinning.

“Whatever.” Frankie rolled her eyes. “She’s too good for most of you anyway.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Bryce added. “That girl is a distraction.” He motioned to his chest area with a smirk.

Frankie smacked his chest. “ Excuse me.”

Bryce winced, pulling a guilty face before laughing. “I meant for Kai.”

Oh. So that was Kai Fields. Captain of the football team. I’d seen him around school, but I doubt he’d ever noticed me.

Bryce slung an arm around Frankie again. “Your tits are the perfect amount of distraction for me.”

“Mm-hmm.” Frankie narrowed her eyes at him, but she was smiling. “Nice save.”

“Wasn’t a save,” Bryce said, grinning. “Just the truth. You have the best tits in the whole town. No. The whole world.”

Kai shook his head and made a low grunt.

“What - just because you’re saving yourself like a nun boy, doesn’t mean I can’t distract myself,” Bryce teased.

“Nun boy? Really?” Kai said, finally lifting his eyes. “I told Jessica I need to focus on football. That’s it. No drama.”

“Yeah, yeah,” one of the boys chimed in. “Football first. Everything else later.”

“Then when you’re at the World Cup bringing England home, you’ll be drowning in so much pussy you wont be able to come up for air,” another said, raising his drink.

“He won’t want to come up.”

Kai huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You lot are ridiculous.”

A branch crunched under my foot, loud enough to slice straight through their laughter. Every head snapped toward me at once.

For a second, no one said anything. Just a circle of confused faces staring like I’d wandered into the wrong production set.

“I’m looking for Callum,” I said, clearing my throat. “Connor sent me.”

The guy next to Kai stood up and walked over, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders like we were old mates. He was tanned - almost caramel - with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Not that tall, but still taller than me, and built solid.

Then again, most people looked solid next to someone who barely scraped five-eight.

“Oh, you must be Taylor’s little brother,” he said, breath thick with booze and cigarettes.

“Yep, that’s me,” I replied, letting him steer me toward his seat.

He grabbed his bag from beside the chair, rummaged through it, and pulled out his wallet. A few folded notes came free between his fingers.

I could see Kai clearly now as the warm fire illuminated his features.

His dirty-blond hair glowed a soft orange, the flames catching on the strands.

He took a slow swig of his beer, his throat working as he swallowed, and when his eyes lifted, they caught mine - steady, deliberate, like he’d somehow known I was watching the whole time.

I looked away immediately, heat prickling at the back of my neck.

“￡200, right?” Callum asked. I nodded, scratching the back of my head, trying to pretend I hadn’t just been caught staring.

“Hey, I know you.” A voice came from beside me. Frankie. She leaned forward a little, squinting. “Babe,” she nudged Bryce, “he was in our maths class last year.”

“Oh yeah,” Bryce said, snapping his fingers. “What’s your name, Aiden or something?”

“Alex,” I said, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt.

“That’s right, Alex.” He pointed at me like he’d just solved a puzzle. “I didn’t know you were a dealer,” he added casually.

“I’m not,” I said quickly. “I’m just helping my brother out.”

“Who’s your brother?” He asked, leaning in.

“Connor Taylor.”

The reaction was instant.

The chatter died. Even the fire seemed to quieten for a second.

Everyone in town knew who Connor Taylor was. You didn’t have to say anything more than his name. He was one of the biggest dealers around here, and people knew better than to cross him.

A couple of the boys exchanged looks. Frankie’s eyebrows shot up and Bryce let out a low whistle.

Kai didn’t say anything. But when I glanced his way, his eyes were on me again - sharper this time, like he was reassessing everything he thought he knew.

I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pocket, wishing the ground would just swallow me whole.

“Here,” Callum said, holding the notes out.

I took the cash and counted it quickly, my thumb flicking through each one.

I had to be sure - my brother would actually kill me if I came up short.

When I was satisfied, I shoved the money into my pocket, then rifled through the other one and pulled out the ticket Connor had weighed and folded earlier.

Callum took it without hesitation, slipping it straight into his bag like it was nothing more than a packet of crisps.

The whole group had gone quiet again, watching the exchange with varying degrees of interest. The fire popped, sending a spray of sparks into the air.

“Tell your brother I said thanks,” Callum said.

“No problem.” I lifted my hood back up and turned to leave, already wanting to melt back into the dark.

“See you around.”

I recognised Kai’s voice immediately. It hit me strangely - he had never spoken to me in my life. Not once. And I’d been going to the same school as him for coming up on five years.

I glanced back without meaning to. His eyes were already on me, steady and unreadable in the firelight. For a heartbeat, neither of us looked away.

Then I broke the stare, shoved my hands back into my pocket, and kept walking, pretending my pulse hadn’t just kicked up for no good reason.