Page 97 of Close Knit

The ball flies past Charlie and into the net.

The final whistle blows, and my team rushes our captain, lifting him high in the air.

This is my rock bottom. I have to get off this bench, face my teammates, and make things right.

But I don’t know how.

Chapter 25

Daphne

December19

Lyndhurst Keeper Kicked to the Curb: Midgame Blunder Results in Benching!

December19

From Starter to Sidelines: Keeper Cameron Hastings Benched as Team Wins Without Him—Is His Contract at Risk?

Goose

Packed for San Francisco?

Daphne

I am.

Are you all right? Are you hurt?

I was watching the game and you didn’t come back out for the second half.

Goose

Meet me at 1 Radnor Terrace.

I’ll send a car in 10 mins.

Daphne

Okay.

Goose

Be careful.

Tonight,I’m finally getting a glimpse into Cameron’s mysterious Knightsbridge apartment.

Between this and our upcoming California trip, everything feels like it’s on the brink of changing. The tangled mess in my chest refuses to untie.

I hope he’s okay. While I was watching the Overton game from the confines of my couch, the announcer mentioned that Cameron had made a bad call. But he’s had goals scored on him before, so I’m unsure why he’d get benched over it.

No matter what, if he’s having a rough day, I’ll be his sunshine tonight. I’ll cheer him up like he’s done for me.

When I arrive, I hit the elevator to the top floor per Cameron’s instructions. As expected, entering his penthouse is like stepping into another world, especially compared to his sterile digs at the Lodge. The place radiates warmth. Panoramic views of London’s skyline, deep greens and blues in his decor, and a couch that looks so plush it could hug you. The dining room has a gallery wall full of family photos and moody art. Every nook and cranny screams,This is a life well-lived!

He doesn’t acknowledge me when I step inside.

“You have trinkets!” I say, running a finger over a walnut credenza showcasing sport memorabilia. A keeper’s glove in glass, bronzed soccer balls, a photo of young Cameron on a pitch, grinning with a ball under his arm—my heart aches for that kid. I trace a finger over his face, wishing I could see that smile now. When I turn, Cameron’s still by the window, his gazeshifting between me and the city lights. His face is tense. Eyes dim. Broad shoulders hunched.

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