Page 4

The cheer of the crowd and sweat in his eyes were as familiar to Bandit as breathing.

He focused on every ounce of his training, while his eyes never left the ball.

His feet moved in time by muscle memory.

This had been his career and life for longer than not.

His parents had put him in soccer at six.

He hadn’t stopped since. There was nothing he didn’t know about this sport.

He lived and breathed for the thrill of winning.

Bandit hiked his shorts up his thighs out of habit.

Sweat had the material sticking to his skin.

He didn’t want anything hindering his movement as he easily stole the ball from his opponent.

Everything happened almost on autopilot.

He practiced so much and often, this game was like breathing.

Even as he quickly made his move and sent the ball sailing into the net, narrowly escaping being blocked, Bandit thought about Sacha.

The crowd cheered… and booed. Someone slapped his ass.

Bandit couldn’t focus on any of it. No one had ever pushed their way into his mind during a match.

The rest of the game went by in a blur. They won by one.

It had been a near thing, and it was because of him they almost lost. Once Sacha had shoved his way in, Bandit hadn’t known how to shut out the noise.

This wasn’t him. It wasn’t that he had never felt this way.

Except maybe he hadn’t ever felt like this.

There was just something he couldn’t shake.

As Bandit stood beneath a scalding hot shower, it hit him.

He knew what had him in knots. Sacha felt the same.

Bandit had seen the longing in him, and that was something Bandit hadn’t seen before.

He had bagged his fair share of cleat chasers and ultras.

He didn’t think he had ever experienced true passion.

Unrequited love. Now Bandit had done that.

Bandit was twenty-seven. He knew he was still young, but he had watched several friends get married and grow families.

Meanwhile, he focused on work and tried not to look too closely at the rest. His teammates had no trouble leaving the game, going straight to some party, and then on to a stranger’s bed.

Honestly, Bandit was a little awkward when it came to sex.

He hated to admit it, even to himself, but damn near everyone he had ever slept with had been because they chased him and initiated things.

Then he had gone along because it was sex and he didn’t know how to go after the people he wanted.

Sacha was different in every way. He had been braver with him than ever before. Bandit couldn’t let off the gas now.

With his freedom secured for the next three days and determination in his heart, Bandit drove straight from the airport to a flower shop the moment his plane landed back home.

It was nearly nine at night, and he had no idea if Sacha would even be home.

The only reason he even knew where Sacha lived was because he had dropped a box of wedding shit on his porch for Baylor when Baylor had gotten sick about six or seven months back.

Flowers in hand, Bandit jogged up the front steps of the red brick townhouse.

Bandit hesitated, giving himself a moment for courage.

He eyed the building. It was three stories, but the front steps went to the second floor, as if the first was basement space or maybe had a garage in the back.

It was squeezed between two identical townhomes.

The place looked nice. He took a deep breath and held it before pushing the doorbell.

Bandit tried to keep his mind blank. He couldn’t let himself start overthinking.

Sacha had blatantly kissed him back. He wasn’t imagining things between them.

The door swung open. A younger and less jaded-looking version of Sacha stared out at him. He immediately smiled.

“Oh. I can’t wait to see this.” He took a step back. “Come in.”

Bandit was confused as fuck. He knew for a fact they hadn’t met. Still, he tried to play it cool. “You must be Artem.”

“I’m surprised you know that, but yeah. We watched your game earlier. Congrats on your win.”

That somewhat explained Artem’s reaction to him showing up at their door. Sacha had obviously at least mentioned they knew each other. “Thanks. I guess you know already, but it still feels rude not to say it. I’m Bandit.”

They shook hands.

Artem’s eyes flashed with humor. “Oh, I know it.”

Bandit was confused as fuck. “Okay. Well.” He cleared his throat. “Is—”

“Who was at the…” Sacha rounded the corner. His words died the moment their eyes met.

Artem chuckled. “Look. It’s Bandit. I’ve told him to stay for dinner.”

That absolutely hadn’t happened, but Bandit smelled something delicious, and seeing Sacha made him hungry as hell.

Sacha said something in Ukrainian that made Artem chuckle, but he walked away, leaving them alone.

Bandit waited until Artem was out of sight before holding out the roses he held. “I didn’t come empty-handed. For you… obviously.”

A sexy smile snapped to Sacha’s lips. He crossed the room and accepted the flowers. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” He eyed the bouquet for a moment before meeting Bandit’s stare again. “I can’t believe you’re here. Weren’t you just in Texas?”

Bandit nodded. “That’s pretty much my life.

Fly in. Play a game. Fly home. I don’t do a lot of staying overnight in other cities.

Honestly, it’s not safe. Soccer fans can be a little violent when their team loses.

Plus, it’s cheaper for the team to fly us back home immediately rather than also pay for overnight accommodations. Unless it’s a night game, of course.”

Sacha held his stare and nodded along as if Bandit was all that existed in the world. He felt seen and heard. “I’m happy to see you.”

A smile exploded across his face. “Me too. I’m sorry I burst in at dinner time.”

Sacha shook his head. “It’s fine. We’re getting a late start tonight. Are you hungry?”

“Actually, yes. I kind of rushed here from the airport, so I didn’t think about food.”

For a moment, Sacha simply stared at him like he didn’t know what to say.

Bandit shifted from foot to foot. The longer Sacha didn’t speak, the more Bandit wondered if he came on too strong.

He wasn’t used to feeling the way he did for Sacha.

Bandit equally sucked at putting himself out there like this.

Finally, Sacha cleared his throat. “I’m honored I made you forget to eat. ”

God. He was so fucked.

Sacha turned and motioned for Bandit to follow. “Come on. We have plenty. My baba believes in cooking like she’s feeding an army.”

Bandit followed. He was mildly confused by Sacha’s living arrangement.

Since he had been asked to leave the things Sacha needed for an upcoming wedding on the porch that one time, he assumed Sacha wasn’t home and lived alone.

Now it seemed there were at least two other people who lived there.

He had no idea what a baba was. They rounded the corner into the eat-in kitchen.

Artem sat at the table along with an elderly woman and what looked to be a private nurse.

The elderly woman looked his way, and a bright smile lit her features. “Look. It’s that boy Sacha is always drooling over on the TV.”

The table banged.

Her gaze turned on Artem. “Why are you kicking me?”

Bandit couldn’t stop smiling.

Sacha had a hand over his eyes. After a moment, his shoulders straightened, and he motioned toward the table. “You’ve already met Artem. This is my babusia . Grandmother,” he explained as he motioned toward the elderly lady. Finally, he motioned toward the nurse. “And Dana.”

Dana flashed a smile and went back to work watching over Sacha’s grandmother.

Sacha motioned toward Bandit. “This is Bandit.” He looked Bandit’s way. “You can sit wherever you like. I’ll find a vase for these.”

With a nod, Bandit headed for the table. He wasn’t one to get nervous when meeting new people. His career meant talking to strangers all the time. As he sat, Sacha’s grandmother jumped right in.

“You will call me Baba. It’s obvious no one feeds you. It’s good you came here.”

Bandit fought a laugh. He had been skinny his entire life. Each time he had gained a little weight as a kid, he had immediately had a growth spurt, seemingly stretching him several inches overnight. It drove his mom nuts.

“I appreciate the meal. It smells amazing and I’m starving after today’s game.” He hoped mentioning his game would drive Baba to tell him more about Sacha’s drooling. He wasn’t disappointed.

Baba nodded. “We watched. Sacha never misses a game. He’s very proud of you.”

Bandit’s chest warmed. His gaze locked on Sacha as Sacha moved to claim the chair beside him. “I’m pretty proud of him too. His cake designs leave me speechless.”

Sacha blushed.

Baba cackled and clapped. “I love to hear such a thing. Where do you think he learned it?”

“Culinary school,” Artem muttered under his breath.

Sacha chuckled.

Baba ignored them. “We used to spend all our days cooking. Even the neighbors would come to eat. They couldn’t resist the smell.”

Bandit hung on every word, enjoying the glimpse into Sacha’s childhood. Beneath the table, his fingers linked with Sacha’s. He couldn’t stop smiling. While Bandit didn’t know exactly where they were headed, hope ruled everything.

Horrified didn’t begin to cover the way Sacha felt at the way Baba had embarrassed him.

Ecstatic didn’t begin to describe how Sacha felt at seeing Bandit.

The only thing that equaled those two emotions was the terror.

Sacha was scared as hell of the way Bandit made him feel.

Thankfully, almost as soon as dinner was over, Artem disappeared, and Dana had put Baba to bed. It was just them.