Page 23 of Matched (LSU #5)

“ W e’ve got this. Only forty-five minutes to go, and we’ll be in the southern division semi-final. The semi-fucking-final.” Travis took a moment to make eye contact with everyone in our huddle of players. “I dunno about the rest of you, but I’m planning on winning this thing.”

“Fuck, yeah!” Ander shouted. “Let’s kick their asses!”

Somewhere out there, my sister was watching.

Charlie was, too.

I couldn’t let myself think about any of that now, though. Every single team member had an important part to play, and I wasn’t going to let any of my teammates down.

The whistle blew, and we began.

It was one of those matches where everything just seemed to go right.

The rush of the game, the wind in my face, the grass beneath my feet—all my senses were heightened, andevery time my boot connected with the ball, I felt alive.

By the time Bryan, our coach, shouted that we had five minutes remaining, the score was 3-1.

Five minutes longer. That was all we needed.

I tackled Kingston’s number nine when he hit the box, sliding across the grass to boot the ball away from him.

He went down, clutching his leg, and even though I hadn’t touched him, the ref came running over.

I paced up and down, breathing deeply so I wouldn’t get riled up when Kingston’s players were shouting for a red card and a penalty kick.

Getting angry solved nothing—it only led to yellow cards, or even red, and I wasn’t going to jeopardise our chances for anything.

“Fucking bastard, playing it up for the ref, trying to get a penalty. You didn’t even touch him,” Liam huffed as he jogged up to me.

“I know. They want the win.”

“They’re not gonna get it.” He grinned at me, holding out his hand, and we exchanged fist bumps.

The referee conferred with the assistant ref for a moment, and then he jogged back over and blew his whistle. “No foul.”

A cry of outrage came from the Kingston players, and there was some pushing and shoving, but the game finally got back underway.

I glanced up at the scoreboard. Four minutes, plus whatever added time there was at the end. We could do this. We were going to make it to the semi-finals. One step closer to being southern division cup champions.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I was working constantly, keeping the ball away from our goal as Kingston’s team threw everything they had into their attack.

My legs were aching, my lungs were burning, but I pushed my body as hard as it would go, kicking the ball away again and again until suddenly, three piercing whistles filled the air.

We’d done it . We were going to the semi-finals.

With the final dregs of my energy, I made my way to the centre of the pitch, where my teammates were already celebrating. Travis pulled me into a hug, and then Ander jumped on my back, throwing his arms around us both.

“We fucking did it!” he screeched in my ear. I couldn’t even be annoyed about the fact that he’d temporarily deafened me because I was filled with euphoria.

“You did a great job, holding them off at the end. You and Finn and Jason. Our last line of defence,” Travis said. “Fucking brilliant work.”

“What about me?”

Travis stepped back, eyeing Ander over my shoulder. “I think it goes without saying that every single member of this team had an important role to play. You did great.”

“Thanks, Dad. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Finally climbing off my back, Ander jogged over to Liam, and I straightened up with a groan.

“Now I can add a back injury to my list of aches and pains after this match.”

Travis laughed. “An ice bath will sort you out.”

I shuddered. No, thanks. “I think I’ll just have a hot shower and some ibuprofen.”

“Suit yourself. Come on, let’s get showered and changed. We need to celebrate. Party at mine tonight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Number 3, the Mansions, was heaving . The large, double-fronted Victorian terrace was packed to the brim with people celebrating, more spilling out onto the street and onto the front path of the house next door. Number 1, the Mansions. The house where Charlie lived.

He was here, somewhere, I presumed, but I purposely hadn’t texted him aside from a reply to his message of congratulations. I was still wary about being around him after what had happened the last time we’d met up. What had I been thinking? That was right—I hadn’t been thinking.

Whatever, it was time to celebrate now. Leaving the kitchen, tipping my newly acquired beer to my lips, I weaved my way through the crowd towards the lounge.

The music was much louder in here. I greeted several of my teammates in passing, finding the small huddle of final-year players at the back of the lounge.

These were the guys I generally gravitated towards, having known them the longest.

“Still no girlfriend?”

“Huh?” In the middle of knocking my beer bottle against Jason’s, I glanced over at Omari. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jason smirked at our teammate. “He means you’re not normally single for this long. It’s gotta be what, a couple of months or something since you ditched Lucy.”

Omari nodded. “Yeah, bro. You don’t stay single for long.”

A shrug of my shoulders just had them giving me identical unimpressed looks, so I elaborated. “There’s no point in starting up something now, is there? I’ll be gone as soon as we’re finished with our degrees. It’s not long now.”

“I can’t wait to get out of London. I fucking hate cities.”

I exchanged glances with Omari. “Jase. Maybe you should’ve considered that, I dunno, back when you applied to a uni in the centre of London?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He swigged from his beer bottle before smacking his lips dramatically. “Whatever. Anyway, back to you. You don’t need a girlfriend. What you need is a one-night stand. Get rid of some of that tension.”

“What tension?” I didn’t have any tension. He was deluded.

“Yeah.” Omari slung his arm across my shoulders. “Be more like me and Jase. Plenty of single women here.”

“Maybe.” The thought wasn’t even slightly appealing. But maybe they were right. A one-night stand could be what I needed, as long as everything was clear up front. No risk of catching feelings, and it might take my mind off a certain green-eyed guy…

As if I’d summoned him, he appeared, walking into the lounge with his housemate Levi and Levi’s boyfriend, Asher. Our gazes connected, and he smiled, soft and small and private.

Fuck.

Shrugging off Omari’s arm, I pushed through the crowds towards Charlie, watching his eyes widen as I drew closer.

Nodding a hello to Asher and Levi as I passed them, I grabbed Charlie’s wrist, tugging him along with me.

He came without protest, and I let go of him as soon as we were out in the hallway.

The music wasn’t so loud out here, and I was able to speak at a normal volume.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Charlie glanced around us. “Is here okay? Or do you want to go next door to mine? Half the party seems to be happening there, but it’s quieter than in here.”

“No. Here’s fine. Stay where people can see us.

We’re just two people who know each other, having a normal conversation.

” Taking up a casual position against the wall, I fixed my gaze on my beer.

“Some of the boys were saying I should hook up with a girl tonight. It’s not…

I don’t want to, but maybe we should. Or I dunno, flirt with someone at least.”

Next to me, Charlie inhaled sharply. “Do you think this is a good idea? You—you’re not even a one-night-stand person. Or so you said.”

I flinched at his unexpectedly harsh tone. “No. I think it’s a shit idea, but we need to do something .”

There was silence while he processed my words, but eventually, he spoke, his voice almost too quiet to be heard over the combined sounds of music and conversation. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. The sooner we get over this, the better.” With a decisive nod, he straightened up. “Okay. Let’s do it.”