Page 27 of Crossed Lines

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Junseo says, a grin playing on his lips. “He still talks about you like you’re God’s gift to mankind. One time he came into the gym so fucking smug I knew he’d gotten laid, but the bastard wouldn’t tell me what happened. All he said was that he’s well and truly done for.”

Warmth washes over me. That must have been after our time in the locker room.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always meant more to him than a quick lay.” He claps me on the back. “You guys are practically made for each other, Howard.”

The first time I saw you, I thought you were an angel.

I slide a hand over my face, sighing. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

“Depends on whether or not you’d like things to stay ruined. You can always fix it.”

And I do want to fix it. But not to go back to being friends—unless that’s all he wants, which is perfectly fine and I would deserve it—but to go back to feeling like I did after the first kiss.

Like I’m floating on air and free falling off a cliff at the same time. Like I’ve found my home in his arms.

“I think I know what to do,” I say, the wheels churning in my mind. “How much would a half-hour ride cost?”

“Like fifty bucks. Why?”

“No reason. If anyone goes looking for me, tell them I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t say anything, eyeing me. For a moment I think I’ve made a mistake, and he’ll tell me to stop messing around and stay here. But he stands up, dragging me with him, and pulls me into a quick hug. I follow easily, gratitude welling in my chest.

What Coach says is true; you can always trust your teammates to have your back, both on and off the pitch.

Junseo steps back, a wry smile on his lips. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“You’ve got this, Howard. I want a wedding invite as payment for my services, though.”

I elbow him in the side and feel a rush of satisfaction at his pained grunt as I hurry out of the locker room. I’ve got a mission to complete.

Maybe it’ll work, maybe it won’t. But I’m determined to show Spencer how much he means to me.

10

Spencer

It’s always hectic before a match, but nothing compares to the sheer panic that sweeps through me when I realize that Luke is gone.

Like up-and-left, poofed out of thin air kind of gone. Nowhere to be found. Coach Davis paces up and down the side of the pitch, a scowl under his moustache, barking orders at the team as they go through warm-ups. But I can’t focus on soccer right now.

Crowds of people have started filing into the stadium and finding their seats. Some of them are holding signs with the Harper Harriers mascot, a Northern harrier, but most of them are sporting the colors for their home team. The familiar rush of game day crackles like the air before a lightning storm and goosebumps litter my skin.

My watch says it’s forty minutes before kick-off. Still no Luke.

Assistant Coach Miller stands beside me, her arms crossed over her uniform. “Coach is putting in Adams if Luke doesn’t show up.”

Fucking Vincent Adams. He struts back and forth across the pitch, his red hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Coiffedto perfection, as if his looks matter more than winning the damn game.

Like I’m one to talk. My own attacking midfielder isn’t even here.

“He’ll show up,” I say to Miller, sounding more confident than I feel.

I can’t believe Luke would give up his precious win like this. But I’ll be damned if I give up on him. Ignoring Miller’s warning hisses, I jog over to the pitch entrance to wait for him. Because he’ll be here.

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