Page 10 of Anteros' Return

Baking, for me, was never just about mixing ingredients or following a recipe. It had always been something that brought order to the chaos of my thoughts. Over the years, it had become my getaway, something I could lose myself in. Baking was something I knew like the back of my hand, my one true passion and joy. I’d always have to thank Beckett for the push he gave me all those years ago.

Ten years ago…

“Chase your dreams.” He smiled across the kitchen island.

“Like you’re chasing yours?” I asked while icing my newest creation for him to try.

“We can chase them together, Em.” His smile widened. “We can have it all together.”

He scooped a blob of icing onto his finger before wiping it on the tip of my nose with a chuckle.

5

Ten years ago…

Istood on the football pitch beside Harry, Mike, and a couple of other guys from the team when I spotted her. Emily, my best friend’s sister, the very sister he warned all of us to stay away from. But I had no plans to listen to that.

I watched from afar as her pencil danced across her paper. I couldn’t help but wonder what captured her attention so completely. The way she furrowed her brow in concentration was mesmerising, and every now and then, she would pause to brush a stray auburn strand behind her ear, revealing a delicate profile that I couldn’t help but stare at.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she relaxed into one of the seats in the stand, she had her feet resting on the back of the seat in front, looking so at ease and comfortable. I wanted to know what she was sketching. Was it the vibrant scene around her, the players on the field, or something from her own imagination? My heart raced at the thought of striking up a conversation with her, but I hesitated, not wanting to interrupther creativity. Still, the urge to find out more about her was growing stronger by the minute.

“Put your eyes back in your head. That’s my sister you’re staring at,” Harry grunted, whacking me in the back of my head and bringing me back to reality.

“Keep those hands to yourself too, new boy.” Mike scoffed before booting the ball into the empty net.

“I wasn't looking at Emily, alright?!” I snatched a ball from the ball bag and began working on my drills.

“Sure you weren’t, buddy.” Harry glared, clearly enjoying my discomfort. I focused harder on my drills, letting the rhythm of the ball help drown out their teasing. But even as I practised, my mind kept drifting back to Emily.

So what if I was looking at her?! She was fucking beautiful and admired by many guys at school. I was just another one in the never-ending queue, which pissed me off no end. I’d never let another boy go near Emily. I wanted her for myself and not just because she was beautiful but because she was the first girl I’d been around that made me feel alive and I’d only just met her.

That girl was mine. She just didn’t know it yet, but she would soon enough.

Once training was over, with half the guys in the shower and the other half already gone, I saw my opportunity and took it. I swiped Harry’s phone from where he left it on the locker room bench, which luckily had no password protection. With sweaty palms and a racing heart, I found Emily’s number and added it to my own phone. Sliding Harry’s back on the bench, I mentally punched the air, my triumph drowning the slight guilt of deceiving my best mate… but I didn’t feel guilty enough to delete her number.

Emily

I sat on the supporter’s stands, sketching the cake idea I had in my head on my pad. I felt so at ease when I was baking or sketching new and exciting ideas but today felt a little different. A pair of eyes lingered on me and not familiar ones–-no, these were anything but familiar. They belonged to Beckett Ashmore, the guy I had just met.

As I sketched, the tension in my chest grew with every sneaky glance in his direction. He moved on the field with such intensity, weaving through the drills, completely in his element. Each time our eyes met, a spark ignited deep in my belly.

What would Harry say if he knew I was even thinking about one of his friends like I was? The guilt that came over me at the idea of defying him was unmatched. But still, I couldn’t help but admire the way Beckett played. He commanded the field, effortlessly dodging his teammates and responding to their banter with a playful grin.

As the session wound down, I snuck glances at him, hoping for one last chance to catch his eye. When our gazes met again, something in his expression shifted, a hint of curiosity mixed with determination perhaps. Could he feel the same pull I did?. Before I could dwell on it for too long, my brother called me from the sidelines.

I quickly averted my gaze, feeling the weight of Harry’s presence looming over me. I had to remind myself to stay grounded, but for a brief moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to talk to Beckett without any barriers in the way. Or one that looked a lot like my brother.

“Meet us at the car,” Harry called.

I packed up my belongings and slowly made my way to the car, not daring another glance at Beckett on my way.

That evening as I laid in bed, my phone vibrated on the bedside table. Reaching for it, I saw an unknown number in my text log.

Are you awake?

Who is this?

Someone who can’t stop thinking about you.

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