Page 93 of Close Knit

Cameron’s lip quirks up. He rests his forehead on mine, our noses almost touching. His eyes lock onto mine, intense enough to make my heart trip over itself. It’s like he’s peeking into my soul, untangling every hidden fear and dream.

He runs his fingers through my hair, as if memorizing every strand, trying to remember every single follicle and scent. His chest rises and falls. The moment stretches into a slow dance of touches and whispered breaths. His hand travels to the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

“You have no idea how much you’ve done,” he whispers.

Chapter 24

Cameron

December18

Hastings Redemption or Rematch? Lyndhurst Keeper Faces Off Against Former Club, Overton, Post-Livestream Scandal!

December18

Is it too late for Lyndhurst to come back this season? Tenth in the table—the lowest they’ve fallen in a decade.

December18

Keeper Shows Off to the Camera: Shower Stream Resurfaces!!!

Today has just beenone bad omen after another.

First, I tripped on the last step of the Lodge on the way to the stadium, and now my ankle feels a bit tight. Next, the wrist strap of my goalkeeper gloves got caught on my bag zipper and ripped, forcing me to wear new ones for the match—something Inever do—so now I need to break them in during one of the most important games of the season.

Then, my laces snapped while I was tying my cleats in the locker room.

To top it all off, the first thing I saw on the news this morning was the screenshots from the livestream being recirculated. My body on display for everyone to taunt. For the comments about my dick, my form, my physique to be back in full force. Acid slithers up my throat. Guess nothing can ever be permanently deleted. I’m sure the fans will call out the same remarks I heard during the last two months of last season.

Wanker. Hung Hastings. Drop your kit! Let’s see your balls, keeper.

Usually followed up by a hand gesture that really lacks imagination on their part.

All of which was terrible but barely holds a candle to the fact that I’ll see my old team. And Charlie.

I haven’t seen him since my last Overton game. At least he’ll be all the way on the other side of the pitch, nearly a hundred meters away from me.

We have the home advantage. We’ve run the plays.

All I want is to win this fucking match and get back home to see Daphne. I wish she was here today.

“Does anyone have spare laces?” Okafor calls out into the bustling locker room.

Fuck, I hope that doesn’t mean our captain is having an off day too.

Grabbing the third spare pair hanging in my locker, I toss it in his direction without looking over my shoulder.

“Woah,” he says with shock. “Thanks, but what’s with the aggression?”

A flurry of whispers breaks out behind me before a hand claps over my shoulder. “We’re going to kick Overton’s ass today, Hastings,” Gustafsson says.

“Yeah,” I grunt, burying my head in my locker.

I don’t need this right now.Stay focused. Stay big. Think big, Cam. Win.I shout into the corners of my mind, but the gripping chains around my chest refuse to loosen.

I envision each play in my mind. I know Overton’s weaknesses. Victor favors his left foot; Mikey will try everything to get penalty kicks. Lionel will attempt to foul Okafor and take him out of the game. No, wait—Mikey likes to hog the ball, and Punum is always up for penalty kicks.Get it fucking together.I can’t be messing up simple facts.

“We got you, man,” Tae-woo whispers from the bench next to me. I give him a curt nod.

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