Page 56 of Be My Endgame

At some point,Lee drifted a small distance away to look out at the sea just below the hotel’s garden terrace, a wrought-iron railing protecting him from the steep drop. Alone, for the first time since well before the game.

They’d done it.

They were through to the knockout stage, and God, it felt … amazing, yeah. Still surreal, though, hadn’t sunk in properly yet, Lee’s head filled with wool. Each time he blinked, he heard the final whistle, adrenaline still ringing in his ears.

“Hey,” Alex said quietly.

Lee glanced over his shoulder and found Alex hovering a couple of steps away, the night washing out his features. “Hey,” Lee echoed.

“Needed a moment alone?”

“Sort of.” Lee shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, and maybe hewastrying to tell Alex something by wearing this outfit that Alex had picked because he’d thought Lee would look good in it. “Still processing, you know?”

“Same.” The glint of a smile as Alex made to walk away. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Stay,” Lee said—rushed, almost desperate.

Slowly, Alex turned back around. “Thought you wanted to be alone?”

“You don’t count.”

Alex grinned a little. “Oh, ouch.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” On a chuckled exhale, Lee motioned for Alex to join him. “I just meant that I’m so used to being around you that it’s not—you’re notpeople. As in, it doesn’t take up energy, being around you.”

After hesitating for a beat, Alex stepped into the space next to Lee. “I guess that’s a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing.”

“Well.” Amusement coloured Alex’s voice. “Good.”

“Good.”

“Verygood.” With a velvety laugh, Alex propped his elbows on the railing, a light breeze tangling in his hair. “Hey, did I mention I chose well with that outfit? You look great.”

“Thank you.” Lee had thought he’d overcome any lingering trace of shyness when he’d moved to Milan with no knowledge of the Italian language beyond a few hours of Duolingo and no connection to the country other than some stranger’s genetic material. Not so.

“Just to be clear” —Alex glanced over— “you look great in jogging bottoms too.”

Christ, was this what it looked like when Alex turned on his charm? Because whatever he was selling, Lee was ready to put in a bulk order.

He played with the collar of his shirt, cheeks warm in spite of the comfortable night-time temperature. “Why go all personal stylist on me, then?”

“I thought you might enjoy the way it makes you feel.”

“Huh?”

“Polished and in control.” Alex’s voice dipped down. “Sexy.”

Alex wasn’t completely off, was the thing—Lee hadn’t missed Marco openly checking him out both tonight and after the match against the Netherlands, hadn’t missed Alex subtly doing the same some minutes ago while everyone else had been focused on Jeff and Lewis reenacting the second goal. Admitting as much, though? Admitting that Alex might have a minor point about how fashion wasn’t entirely irrelevant? That would have felt like stepping right into a stereotype.

“I should probably pay you back for the clothes,” Lee said instead. “Now that, you know… I mean, they’re not entirely awful. So. Let me pay you back?”

Alex laughed. “Newsflash—I can afford it.”

“Clearly, you didn’t pay attention to Kieran’s lesson about bankruptcy.”

Another laugh, Alex shifting just the tiniest bit closer. “You’re not very used to people doing nice things for you, are you?”

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