Page 67 of The Prospect

I nod without an ounce of doubt and release Amira from my arms.

“Perfect.” She reaches out for my hand, wrapping our fingertips together. “Follow me.”

Amira’s strength takes me by surprise as she pulls me along behind her, using her dainty frame yet loud and demanding voice to pave the way.

“Excuse me!” she shouts. “We’ve got a professional footballer in the house tonight, and for the record, he can’t afford to have you step on his feet—they’re his money makers. So, make way! Move!”

“I can really advocate for myself,” I protest, apologizing profusely to those around us who flash us both a dirty look, someeven going as far as to whisper “tossers” under their breath as we make our way by.

Great, not only have I earned the renounced title as the diva of Crawfield FC, but Hazel is nowhere in sight as I look around.

Where is she?

“Oh, trust me, Green, I know.” Amira side-steps around a wet patch in the carpet before she pulls me down onto the couch beside her. “But hey…” She rests her silky legs on top of my lap and her head on my shoulder. “It’s fun to show you off, I mean…I’ve never dated a footballer before.”

I blink slowly to process her words.

Did she just say what I thought she said?

Dating?

Are we dating?

As in I’m her boyfriend and she’s my girlfriend?

I thought maybe we’d have to have a conversation to establish that first, but given the way she’s smiling up at me, I must stand corrected.

I nervously smile back down at her as she nestles in close, humming a melody against my chest as my eyes can’t help but wander through the crowd in hopes that Hazel will make an appearance. That, or at least Hart…

The guy’s a total unit. He’s almost impossible to miss, and if I spot him, Hazel won’t be far behind.

Yet, as my attention jumps from person to person without any luck, eventually, my eyes land on a mop of brown hair. I squint to refine my vision, but it does nothing, and somehow, without even looking at this person's face, I come to the conclusion that it must be Hazel.

It has to be.

Before I can rationalize what I’m doing, I’ve sat up straight and gently removed Amira’s legs from my thighs, ready to make a bee-line over to her.

“Hey!” Amira pulls on my hand with a wince, stopping me in place as a frown spreads along her face. “You alright?” she asks, tilting her head in confusion. “Where are you going?!”

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head—so disorientated. “It’s just… I promised Hazel we’d spend some time together tonight. The four of us,” I clarify so it doesn’t come across as suspicious. “She’s just over there.” I gesture back. “I just thought I’d go and grab her.”

Amira narrows her confused stare. “Grab her?

What are you talking about? That’s not Hazel!”

I swiftly turn back over my shoulder at her remark. And without needing a second glance as the brunette turns around, I know without a doubt, Hazel, it is not…

“Hazel left, Green,” Amira reveals. “I mean, isn’t it obvious?” She gestures around. “She’s nowhere to be seen!”

I freeze in place.

She left?

It takes everything in me to hold out on this raging internal panic that I feel. It’s strong, it’s aching, and it’s making me question yet again why, anytime Hazel is mentioned, everything else becomes completely wiped from my mind, excepther.

“Oh, relax.” Amira stands up, extending one of her hands out to me while using the other to adjust the hem of her red dress. “She left with Hart.”

Her words don’t appease me in the slightest.

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