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I realize way too late what the consequences are of Erica coming to the match. It hits me like a cold fish to the face when Coach puts me into the game during the second half, and I realize I’m shouting Rowan’s name whenever he’s in a jam, and I’m open.

Shit.

What are the chances Erica will believe my team captain just happens to share a name with the person Erica thinks is my girlfriend?

I fucked up. I never should have given her Rowan’s name. Never should have told her I’m seeing anyone at all. I should have told her I get so dopey when my phone buzzes because I’m hooked on an online thirst trap from across the worldwho’s sending me nudes and asking for money. I’m twenty. Erica would’ve bought that I’m that dumb.

Is Erica thinking I’m dumb really better than her finding out I’m gay?

It’s not just about me, though. If she figures out that I’m gay and Rowan is Rowan, then she’ll know Rowan is gay too. Rowan isn’t even ready to tellmehe’s gay. He’s definitely not ready for a complete stranger to know he’s gay.

A palm slapping my shoulder wakes me out of an internal panic.

“You getting stage fright on me?” Rowan asks in the spare seconds before the opposing goalie tosses out the ball. “Pick it the fuck up.”

My eyes dart from Rowan to the stands, where Erica and Mav are sitting, cheering me on like I’m back in high school.

I don’t know how to protect Rowan from the damage I’ve already done, but I can protect him now, on the field. So I clear my mind andpick it the fuck up.

After we’ve won, Rowan jogs to where I am and slings his arms around me, hugging me firm and quick, but long enough to whisper in my ear that I’m amazing. It hurts that I have to shrug him off me, because all I want to do is tackle him to the ground and cuddle him to pieces.

As I’m walking toward our line, I exchange a wave with Erica. She takes Mav’s hand and escorts him down the bleachers. The closer they get to joining me on the sidelines, the faster my anxiety heightens.

“Tommy!” Mav shouts, breaking into a sprint as soon as his shoes are on the grass. He flings himself at me, squeezing me tight. “That was so cool! You were so good! You won! You won!”

“Thanks, buddy.” I rustle his shaggy hair with one hand while giving my sis a one-arm hug. “Sorry, I’m all sweaty.”

“I think I’ll live,” Erica says before pecking a kiss to my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Mav slips from my side, and I hear him exclaim, “Dude, you’re so cool!” I turn my head, and find he’s tugging on Rowan’s jersey, who is halfway through downing an entire bottle of Gatorade. Erica is saying things to me, but I don’t hear a word over the sound of my heart thumping in my ears.

“Thanks, little man,” Rowan says, fist bumping Mav once he’s got his bottle capped.

“Are you the captain?” Mav asks, hopping on the balls of his feet like he’s meeting Mickey Mouse for the first time.

“Sure am.”

“Are you in the Olympics?”

Rowan laughs. “Maybe one day.”

“I wanna be in the Olympics. I wanna be a striker! That’s the coolest position, don’t you think? I wanna start going to soccer practice soon. Mom says maybe next year.”

“Maverick,” Erica interjects. To my horror, she walks right up to Mav and Rowan. “Are you bothering people?”

“Nuh uh!”

Taking on that charming persona that never ceases to confound and arouse me, Rowan smiles at Erica, extends his hand and says, “You must be Tommy’s sister. He was really excited for you and your son to see him play.”

“Erica,” she chirps, shaking Rowan’s hand before planting it on Mav’s head. “And this little rascal is Maverick.”

“I’m Rowan.”

My heart stops.

“Rowan?”

“Tommyand I train together a lot. He’s an incredible player. Very talented. He’ll be a starter next year, for sure. The team’s gonna need him.”