Page 15 of Matched Up

‘Ferndale United.’

‘Ah, OK … Well, yeah, definitely more intense than Ferndale,’ I agreed.‘Hold on, what shirt’s that?’I nodded at where I could see a white shirt beneath his track top.

He laughed.Maybe it was more of an exhale.He unzipped his top in one smooth motion.

‘My eyes!’I covered them.

He laughed.‘Everton supporter?’

I shook my head in disgust.

‘No, don’t tell me it’s United.’He squeezed his eyes shut, moved away with the ball, then turned back to me and passed it.

I just about stopped it.‘Through and through.Come on.Liverpool, really?’I couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit disappointed.

‘Aye, my dad’s a Scouser.So it’s always been Liverpool for us.’He shrugged.‘Pass.’He nodded at the ball.

‘As if.’I pulled it back.Then he ran towards me.I held out my arm and turned, blocking him from the ball.But I clearly didn’t do a good enough job because he was doing keepy-ups beside me in less than five seconds.

‘Something else my dad taught me.If you really want something, go get it yourself.’He smiled again, flicking his eyes towards me, but still keeping total control of the ball.

I lunged towards him, and he turned, blocking me.His back on my chest.I grabbed his arm to pull him back, the only way I’d have any chance in hell of getting the ball.

‘Foul,’ he said with a laugh, holding me off and moving the ball to his other foot.

I twisted his arm and he turned round, ball between us, so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face.

‘Lucky there’s no ref,’ he said.

‘Oh yeah?Or what?’

‘Straight red.’He raised his eyebrows and grinned, his eyes shining in the glow of the floodlights.

‘Ref didn’t see it,’ I challenged, my hands on my hips.

‘Pretty useless ref then.’

He was so close I could smell him.Body spray, fabric conditioner.God, he was even more gorgeous close up, even in the dark.Square shoulders, lean, footballer’s build, but it was his face that got me.The light eyes with eyelashes so dark it looked like he was wearing eyeliner.

‘So what’s the deal with your team?You playing in this league?’he asked, dodging my tackle.

‘South Belfast Youth League?Yeah, we’ve a game tomorrow night, just before yours actually, up at the Dub.Cliftonville – it’ll be a tough one.’My stomach lurched at the thought of the game, even though I was a sub.

‘Oh shit.Good luck.I’ve no idea who we’re playing.’

‘Glentoran.Niall will say they’re shit, but he always does that when he’s nervous about a match; they’re really good.’

Shane passed me the ball.‘Niall the other striker?’He looked at me, like he was trying to work out why I’d brought him up.‘He your boyfriend or something?’

I burst out laughing and flicked the ball to him, watchinghim trap it dead under his foot.‘Boyfriend, no.Brother, unfortunately.Twin.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘He’s with Megan.She’s on the team, midfield.’And I hated how it felt on my tongue.Bitter and wrong.

‘Ah yeah, I think I saw her play at practice.’He passed the ball back and I tried to ignore the sinking feeling that always showed up when people talked about Megan playing football.

‘She’s had a couple of teams try to poach her, but she’s stayed at Westing.’I never understood that about Megan.She had all the talent in the world.She could play for whatever team she wanted, but she had no interest in moving; it was all just fun for her.

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