Page 1 of Anteros' Return

PROLOGUE

One second.

One second was all it took to halt everything I’d worked for.

Everything I’d left the love of my life for.

Hearing the crunch of my bone breaking was a sound I would never forget. The studs of my opponent’s boots piercing through my skin as the bones in my ankle snapped made me sick. The gasps and cries from the home fans was enough to tear my soul apart as the paramedics sprinted across the pitch where I screamed in agony for the nation to see. I knew it was bad when my teammates surrounded me to shield me from the crowd.

That injury stalled my career.

And all it took was that one fucking second.

Five weeks later

I barely made it through the last part of the airport. Just about every other person I walked by recognised me and asked for an autograph., not that I minded, though. It was one of the parts of the job I loved.

I never thought that after nearly nine years I’d be heading home to Cheshire with my career in tatters, not knowing if I’d ever make it back onto the pitch. Luckily, my club gave me everything. They wanted me back as soon as possible, but understood I needed to take a few extra weeks away from the league to sort my head and fears out.

The fear of having someone break the same ankle haunted my dreams at night.

As I exited the doors that led to arrivals, I found my mother waiting for me with her arms wide open. My father stood beside her with a proud smile on his face, one that had never changed.

“There’s our boy. Welcome home!” Mum squealed as she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace, almost knocking me off of my crutches.

“Give him some space to breathe, love,” my dad teased as she loosened her hold and let my dad push in to take her place. “Not the way we wanted you back, but it’s good to see you, son.” My dad slapped his heavy palm on my back. A sense of relief washed through me at the weight of it. Knowing that coming home was the right decision.

I don’t know why, but I glanced around. Maybe I was hoping to see the one face that would have made everything better. The one person I regret letting go.

Emily.

Emily Ryton.

My first kiss. My first love. My first everything.

Nobody, and I repeat nobody, would ever come close to her. She was my be all and end all. Until I lost her the second I left Cheshire. The memory of that twisted my stomach into a calm panic. After a while we lost contact once I’d moved. I tried contacting her, but it seemed as though she blocked my number. Maybe because me leaving hurt her more than she let on. So much that she couldn’t bear to even hear from me anymore. Icouldn’t say I blamed her. I should have asked her to come with me, but part of me wondered if I was too cowardly back then.

Fuck, maybe I still was a coward.

Or maybe this injury was fate. Maybe it happened to bring me home in hopes of finding Emily again.

1

Almost nine years.

Almost nine years had passed since the last time I saw Beckett Ashmore.

The one man who shattered my heart.

Since he left, love hadn’t felt safe. It hadn’t even felt real.

He ended it for me.

“Have you heard the fucking news?!” My brother burst through the front door, looking as though he would combust in a split second. His auburn curls flopped down on his forehead as his deep brown eyes narrowed with anger.

“Harry, language!” I snapped, holding my hand out towards Liam who was luckily devouring his bowl of cereal.

“Yeah, Uncle H, language.” He clearly wasn’t too entranced by his breakfast to miss me scolding Harry.

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