Page 8
Ellie
T he moment I walk through the front door, my plan of sneaking upstairs without being seen goes up in smoke when I’m immediately engulfed in a flurry of hugs and bombarded with questions from both of my friends.
“Are you okay?” Natalie asks, fussing over me like a mother hen. “What happened? Why weren’t you answering your phone?”
Guilts simmers inside me.
I can tell by the bags under her eyes that she didn’t sleep well last night, if at all. After we all turned sixteen, the three of us promised to always let each other know where we were, where we were going or what we were doing if we weren’t going out together.
She must’ve nearly torn her hair out with worry.
“I’m sorry, Nat. I put it in my desk drawer while I was writing yesterday and I forgot to take it with me when we left last night.”
She nods sombrely, but her tense shoulders relax, relieved to see me alive and whole.
“Oh, never mind that, El! Tell us what happened!” Liv demands, grinning and latching onto my forearm eagerly.
“But I just told you what happened. ”
“No, not that!” Liv rolls her eyes dramatically, “I’m talking about the fit bloke you were kissing! What happened after you left with him?”
Crap.
I already suspected that the chances of one of them not seeing the kiss were pretty slim, but I had hoped to at least have a shower first before having this conversation. Thankfully, Natalie steps in, sending Liv a warning look.
“Stop it, Liv. Ellie’s under no obligation to tell us anything unless she wants to.”
They start to have a mini argument about the fundamentals of the ‘friendship code’ and how it pertains to sharing information about boys without exception. I smile at them fondly. I’ve always appreciated how glaringly different they are sometimes. Nat knows how to respect boundaries and gives me space when I need it, but I kind of love that Liv doesn’t always do the same. Unlike most people though, she doesn’t do it because she’s selfish, but rather because she knows that if I don’t get something off my chest, it’ll only weigh me down. I’m not sure what I’d prefer right now, but what I do know is that if I don’t confide in them, they’ll never let me live it down.
Either way, I can’t avoid it now.
“Nothing happened.”
Liv and Nat stop arguing, both of them turning their heads to look at me. One with complete and utter surprise. The other with pure disbelief.
“You’re joking?” Liv says, failing miserably to hide her growing bewilderment when I shake my head in response. “Are you serious, Ellie? What the fuck! How can you leave with a guy who looks like that and not do anything with him! ”
Quite easily apparently.
I nearly mention that we almost kissed again at the fountain, but thank God I think better of it and don’t.
Nat stays silent, but even she seems to be struggling to process that I’d willingly pass on an opportunity like that as well even though she’s never been interested in casual hook-ups or flirting with boys for fun. Another thing we have in common.
“It’s a lot to explain,” I warn.
“So, explain!” Liv presses. “We’re not going anywhere, babe.”
I tell them everything after that.
About how Colin and I met, about our walk across the campus, about the article Professor Garrick wants me to write on him and how beneficial doing it could be for my future career as a writer. I also mention that our drunken (on my part) kiss, happened because I saw Marco and Nicole together and that’s why I left with Colin last night. Because I was upset. All of it gushes out of me like a cloudburst during a heavy thunderstorm. By the time I’m done, Natalie’s shock has melded into understanding and sympathy while Liv is smiling so brightly I’m worried she’ll spontaneously combust at any moment.
“You absolutely have to do the article, El!” She exclaims.
“Really?” I shift on the sofa we’re all sitting on now, rapt with uncertainty, “You know that means I’ll have to spend weeks around him. Months actually because the rugby season only ends next year in March. Don’t you think it would be, I don’t know, awkward or difficult, especially since he’s Marco's rival? ”
Not to mention the kiss, almost kiss and the fact that I slept in his bed last night.
“Uh…no,” Liv answers with a snort, “I’m not saying you have to shag him, El unless you want to of course, but there are worse things you could do with your time. Following a talented rugby player around who also happens to be ridiculously fit seems pretty harmless and just think about how it’ll help with your career someday. This is a huge opportunity and if you don’t want to do anything with him, you can still enjoy the sexy view.”
She does have a point, actually.
“It does sound like an incredible opportunity,” Natalie agrees, her voice gentle and more measured, “And I have no doubt it’ll be a beneficial experience, El, but let's say you do like him or end up liking him; would you be able to deny those feelings? Or if you couldn’t and things didn’t work out, would you be able to put that aside and still write the article? And what about Marco? What if he got involved?”
I frown, pinching my lower lip between my teeth.
Damn.
That’s a good point as well.
“I…I don’t know.” I answer honestly.
I’m pretty sure I could write the article regardless of my attraction towards Colin.
Rationally, I know I could do that.
But could I really keep my feelings out of this?
And if I couldn’t, would that be such a bad thing or will I end up getting hurt again once we’ve had our fun and it’s over?
I like Colin.
If I’m being really honest, I like him a lot more than I’m willing to admit out loud and I meant what I said this morning, I don’t regret w hat happened between us, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for another relationship yet. I don’t even know if being in a relationship is what he wants. Liv is right though. Just because I feel something, doesn’t mean I have to act on it, but considering Nat’s point as well, I know she’s also right. It’s completely irrational for me to assume I’ll know what will happen or how I’ll feel in a few weeks or a couple of months from now. I want to take this opportunity to prove myself and hopefully reap the rewards it offers in return. Getting romantically involved with Colin wouldn’t be a smart decision, but the idea of spending time with him isn’t unappealing either. At least, that’s how I feel right now. And it could have major consequences with Marco as well, much like kicking the hornet's nest, which would only complicate things further.
God, what a mess.
When I bury my face in my hands, Natalie sighs beside me and the cushions dip further as she shifts closer, gently rubbing my back with her hand.
“This is your choice, El. Don’t worry so much about what we think or say. What matters is how you feel about it. Complicated or not, I don’t want you to regret passing this up, because of something that may or may not happen. You can always talk to him and make it clear that your relationship can only be professional if that’s what you want. I’m sure he’d understand.”
“Exactly.” Liv adds tentatively, “If you think it’s too risky, then that’s fine, but if you think it’s worthwhile, then I think you should do it. We’ll support you no matter what you decide.”
I lower my hands and straighten up slightly, smiling at them with warm appreciation. It’s moments like these that always remind me why I’m so lucky to have them as friends, but the truth is; I already know what my decision will be. Deep down, I’ve known for a while now.
I just hope I won’t regret it.
T he last time I went to a rugby match was back home in Surrey.
I can still picture the open-air field that the local rugby club in our town uses and how the facility was old and clearly of its time, but still well-kept. The grass on the pitch that day was loose and muddy from the rain and I can still hear the crowd of families cheering. I can even feel the cold metal of the stands my mum and I sat on while we watched my little brother play.
As I settle into my hard, plastic seat in Craigavon Stadium, I know this will be a vastly different experience.
Given that Armitage and Bancroft are both rugby-centric schools, I half expected the Admirals and the Bulldogs to have their own stadiums for derby matches like this, but seeing as the two universities were built so close together, someone decided ages ago that it would make more sense to have them share one large stadium, then to build two separate smaller ones. Technically it’s meant to belong to both teams, but from what I’ve heard, whoever wins in the stadium last gets the official bragging rights to call it their home turf.
More rivalry nonsense .
The stadium in question is state of the art and both equal parts impressive and huge. Enormous floodlights around the stadium illuminate the pristine sea of green grass, making the white lines and markings painted on it seem brighter than they are. The stands aren’t even filled yet and the atmosphere is already charged with palpable energy and nervous anticipation for the up-and-coming match. Unfortunately, it does nothing to qualm the anxiety I have sitting in my stomach. I swallow, twisting my fingers together in my lap.
“You okay?” Natalie asks, her voice barely carrying over the excitable chatter and booming music reverberating around us.
She’s been keeping a close eye on me all day and I suspect it has nothing to do with Colin and the article and more to do with the fact that in less than half an hour I’ll be watching my ex-boyfriend play a game of rugby. Something I didn’t plan on doing after we broke up.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I tell her, whipping up the best smile I can muster.
Obviously, I’m not thrilled about seeing Marco again, especially after last night, but contrary to what she may think, the nerves I have aren’t related to him at all. They’re related to the man currently warming up with his teammates on the field in front of me.
I turn my attention back to Colin.
He hasn’t seen me yet and perhaps that’s why I’m a little on edge.
After our conversation this morning, I got tired of listening to Liv swoon over Colin like a lovesick puppy after she looked him up on social media, so I went upstairs, had a shower and slept for a couple more hours. When I woke up again my headache was compl etely gone and I felt refreshed. Relaxed even. That was when I expected to start second-guessing myself and my decision to do the article. Instead, I used the few hours left until the game started to do a little research which consisted of typing Colin’s name into Instagram and seeing what came up. Most of the pictures were of him either playing rugby or training, but my cheeks flushed crimson red when I saw that he’d also been tagged in several pictures taken of us kissing last night.
Thank God my face wasn’t visible in any of them.
I clicked on his public profile next and scrolled, not stalked, my way through his posts and with each tap and swipe of my thumb, I learnt that he’s insanely popular with close to forty thousand followers, that he plays fullback and sometimes right wing as well (which oddly enough, are the same positions Marco plays as well although I didn’t focus on that similarity for too long) and, finally, that all the attention he receives is more than justified because he’s good...
Unbelievably good.
I didn’t need to watch more than a handful of videos of him running in tries or successfully kicking penalties no matter the distance or angle to make that determination.
Most of his posts were rugby-related, but the picture I found myself fixating on the longest was taken less than a year ago. It looked like he was standing on a wild, grassy moor somewhere in the lake district. The sun was still rising in the distance, casting a pale, yellow light across the clear blue sky and a thin layer of mist swirled close to the ground. On either side of him stood two other men and judging by how similar they all looked and by the caption which read ‘ Family ’, I guessed they must be Colin’s older brothers; Graeme and Bryce. He looked s o carefree and happy and more like the Colin I’ve experienced. As opposed to the focused, no-nonsense demeanour he portrays in all his other photos. I remember reading somewhere that rugby players often feel like they’re two different people. Who they become on the field and who they are off it can change instantly. I never really noticed it with Marco, but the contrast is night and day with Colin.
Right now, his features are eerily calm, yet fully alert as he runs drills with his teammates, catching a ball just as a few of them, pretending to be the opposing side, collide with his body mere seconds later, tackling him down to the ground.
I wince when he takes the hit.
I’ve always wondered if that hurts or not.
I’m so caught up watching the mini scrimmage that happens afterwards that I don’t hear or see Liv approaching until she plops down into the seat next to me.
“Look what I got!” She sings, digging around in the paper bag she’s holding. A moment later, she produces an Armitage Admirals beanie which she hands over to a reluctant-looking Natalie followed by a matching rugby jersey, which she promptly drops into my lap.
Frowning, I pick it up, pinching the lightweight, synthetic fabric between my fingers as I study the shirt’s dark maroon and light grey stripes and its white placket collar. They’re Armitage’s signature colours which (thanks to the pictures he posted of himself in full uniform) I already know look incredible on Colin. I brush my thumb over the embroidered image of the university’s coat of arms and flip the garment over, going pale when I see the number fifteen stitched into the back in black lettering .
His number.
“Liv, have you gone completely mad? I can’t wear this!”
I absolutely can’t.
She arches an eyebrow at me. “Why not?”
“Because I…”
I don’t actually have a good answer for her other than I don’t want to seem too eager in front of Colin and I don’t want to send the wrong message either, especially given the dilemma I’m already faced with regarding my feelings for him. I’d also prefer not to rile Marco up by wearing his rival's jersey.
I don’t need the drama tonight.
Liv shakes her head and smirks. “It’s just a shirt and number, El. You’re overthinking it, and besides, where’s your school spirit?”
I roll my eyes at her, but a smile peeks out.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe I am overthinking it.
It is just a jersey and fifteen is just a number.
Tons of other people are wearing the same shirt. What difference does it make if I wear it as well?
But I also know Liv.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she bought me this. At least I didn’t go overboard and paint red and grey stripes all over my face like she did. With a sigh, I give in and pull the jersey on over my grey hoodie. It’s way too big for me, but at the very least it’s another layer to keep me warm.
When I cast my eyes back towards the field, all the Armitage players have gone inside and the stands are positively teeming with spectators now. Students dressed in light grey and dark maroon occupy the seats around me while the opposite side of the stadium is awash with navy blue and gold – Bancroft’s colours.
It's a perfect visual of the rivalry between the two universities if ever I needed one.
Soon after that, the game begins. A booming voice over the loudspeakers announces both teams and a deafening roar rises from the crowd as they jog out onto the field. The match itself is brutal from the moment the referee blows the starting whistle. Armitage and Bancroft appear to be evenly matched for the first twenty-five minutes as they tackle aggressively and throw themselves around the field, struggling to break each other’s defences and gain any real possession or territory. It’s hard and fast, with very few errors being made on either side until, finally, Bancroft concedes a penalty in the Admiral’s half. Armitage immediately decides to go for the kick and I’m not surprised when Colin’s the one who steps up to take it nor am I surprised when he successfully sends the ball flying right through the middle of the goalposts, drawing first blood and earning our team three points.
One of the many compilation videos I watched on Instagram was of him kicking twenty penalties in a row without missing a single one. The caption of the video read ‘ Ice runs in his veins’ . Judging by his intense and completely unperturbed expression, I’d say that’s fitting.
Unfortunately, Bancroft takes the lead when bad discipline and a collapsed scrum gifts them two penalties which Marco successfully kicks, making the surrendered points sting even more. The first half ends shortly after that with the scoreboard reading 6 – 3 to Bancroft, but if that bothers the Admirals they don’t show it as they leave the field and head towards the changing rooms. Colin’s eyes are steely, giving very little away about what’ s going through his mind as he draws closer to the tunnel. They lift suddenly, scanning the stands carefully. When they stop on me, I hold my breath.
I’m literally in an ocean full of people, there’s no way he can see me, right?
He doesn’t look away though, and I don’t either.
The score doesn’t reflect his performance tonight. He hasn’t missed a single beat so far; defending his line with solid tackles, booting the ball into touch to gain territory and catching every high ball or torpedo kick that’s been sent his way. He’s like a machine on the field; a commanding presence that demands your attention. He’s strong and confident. Precise and efficient and I’d be lying if I said my stomach hasn’t tightened or fluttered several times while watching him play.
“Hey,” Nat says, drawing my attention, “Liv and I are heading to the bathroom quickly, do you want to come?”
“I’m good. I’ll stay here and look after our seats for us.”
“You’ll be okay on your own?”
I roll my eyes good-naturedly, giving her a little shove. “Will you just go, I’ll be fine.”
She follows Liv, joining the rest of the people queuing to buy snacks or use the bathroom. They’re gone for no more than a few minutes when I feel my phone vibrate.
Colin: Enjoying the game so far, Simpkins? ??
My jaw pops open.
He did see me.
How the fu –
My best friends choose that moment to return and I swallow several times, slipping my phone back inside my pocket as they sit down on either side of me again .
“Everything okay?” Nat asks, taking note of my dumbfounded expression.
I nod quickly, forcing what I hope is a convincing smile. The players run back onto the field and the uproar of applause and cheers thankfully stops Natalie from asking me any more questions. My gaze automatically finds the number fifteen on the back of Colin’s shirt as he runs over to the opposite end of the field he was playing on before. He looks focused and ready for the next forty minutes of the match, but his gaze shifts without warning and something close to lightning rockets through my body when it lands on me again and a wide, heart-stopping smile forms on his lips.
“Looks like someone’s noticed you,” Liv whispers coyly in my ear.
My cheeks warm and I gently nudge her away.
Armitage comes out guns blazing in the second half. Within the opening minutes they manage to run the ball down their offensive line before their fly-half; James Williams chips it across the field and into the hands of their right-winger; Mace Madsen who slips through Bancroft’s defences like a hot knife through butter, sprinting with unapparelled speed towards the try line. When he scores, our side of the stadium erupts into a frenzy. Even Nat, who’s never been a massive fan of rugby, jumps up and celebrates with Liv and me. Colin converts the try without any effort and that, along with the chanting coming from the Armitage supporters, is enough to start deflating Bancroft’s arrogant attitude. For the next thirty-five minutes, the Admirals remain firmly in control, dominating possession and keeping the Bulldogs off their try line. Unfortunately, they accidentally concede a penalty in the sixty-fifth minute, but quickly make up for it when Colin assists Kai, the Admiral 's outside centre in scoring another try less than ten minutes later which drives the crowd completely wild.
When the final whistle blows, the score reads 9 – 17 to Armitage.
The mood after the game is chaotic and loud, with people celebrating and singing songs as Liv, Nat and I head towards the exit together. Thank God most of Bancroft’s supporters left when it became obvious their team wasn’t going to produce some kind of miracle and win in the last ten minutes otherwise, there’d probably be a full-on riot on our hands. It takes us a good half an hour of pushing and shoving our way through the large, slow-moving crowds before we’re finally back outside and in the car park again. Just ahead of me, Liv regales her favourite parts of the game to Natalie, who’s being surprisingly patient with her, even though she just sat through the entire thing. I trail behind them, chewing on the end of my thumb and staring at the message Colin sent me.
He saw me.
Which means he knows I’ve decided to do the article . My appearance has all, but confirmed it’s happening.
I need to reply to him.
The trouble is, I have no idea what to say to him. I don’t want to come off as being too serious by going straight into organising a meeting or something, but there’s a line I need to be careful not to cross either. I may not know how to handle my feelings for him just yet – which could be an impending recipe for disaster – but I do know that I don’t want to stop being open and amicable with him either. This article will benefit both of us if we do it properly. We don’t need any added complications .
A shrill sound startles me and I toss my ringing phone between my hands like a scolding hot potato, almost dropping it when I see Colin’s name flashing across the screen.
Oh god. “It’s him!”
“Who?” Natalie asks.
I’m staring down at the screen, my throat clamping up. “Colin.”
“Really?” Liv squeals, practically vibrating with excitement. “Well, don’t just stand there, answer it!”
I meet their eyes, biting my lip before I swipe my thumb across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Simpkins.”
Colin’s smooth voice trickles through the phone’s speaker like honey, chasing away whatever reservations I felt a second ago. My insides tighten as my lips stretch with an involuntary grin. I turn away from my friends quickly, seeking some privacy from their probing gazes.
“Hi.”
“So, you decided to come after all.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am,” Colin admits with a weak chuckle, “I was worried you weren’t going to show, to be honest.”
He thought I wouldn’t come? He seemed so confident this morning when we spoke about it. I want to ask him why that changed, but the answer he might give me is enough to keep my mouth shut.
“You should have more faith in me next time.” I joke instead.
He laughs warmly making my stomach flip .
“Duly noted, Simpkins.” I hear muffled voices talking in the background and he shuffles on his end of the phone as if turning away from them, “Where are you?” He whispers a moment later.
“Um,” I look around until I spot something distinctive to tell him, “Near the west entrance of the stadium.”
“Okay. Stay there, I’ll be out in around twenty minutes.”
The call ends before I can respond, leaving me wide-eyed and speechless.
“Well?” Liv asks eagerly as soon as I lower the phone from my ear, “What did he say? What did he want?”
“He wants me to wait for him here.”
“Here?” Natalie repeats, looking around the vast car park sceptically, “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
I guess it is a little exposed, but security guards are floating nearby so it’s not like I’d be alone or anything. Besides, this is Craigavon we’re talking about, not London. It may be a big city, but I don’t think it ranks anywhere close to the top ten most dangerous cities in England let alone the UK.
“Twenty minutes isn’t that long,” I reason, “And besides, Colin and I need to talk about the article. It’s probably better if we get it over and done with as soon as possible.”
Nat twists her lips to one side, still not convinced, but Liv snorts and hooks an arm around her waist, dragging her away.
“Stop being an overprotective mum, Nat. Ellie will be perfectly safe with her fit as fuck rugby player.”
“Fine.” Natalie sighs, albeit reluctantly, her grey eyes turning serious. “Promise me you’ll message me as soon as you’re on your way home, El?”
“I will. I promise.”
I won’t let her down again .
I watch them climb into Nat’s car and drive off before I circle back towards the entrance we just came out of earlier. The car park is mostly empty now with only a handful of people still loitering around after the game. The largest group is made up of girls waiting near the bus that brought the Bancroft players here tonight. They’re probably hoping to ‘console’ the team after their bitter defeat tonight. I spot Nicole Dempsey among them and my lips purse.
Yup, that’s exactly why they’re there.
I look away, leaning my shoulder against the nearby wall, a fresh wave of nerves sparking inside me.
I shouldn’t be excited to see Colin.
Ideally, I should be professional and calm. Maybe a tad apprehensive. I need to make it clear what this arrangement is and what it can’t ever be, but that’s easier said than done. No matter how many times I’ve told myself that the only reason why I’m agreeing to any of this is to benefit myself, I can’t ignore the dizzying feeling that swooshes through me whenever I think about how it’ll involve spending time with Colin Hunt.
That’s the problem, I realise.
I don’t think I’d care this much or be this delighted if it were anyone else which is troubling to admit, especially to myself.
“Ellie?”
The voice pulls me from my thoughts instantly. Unfortunately, it belongs to the last person I want to see right now.
Marco strides towards me, freshly showered and dressed in his Bancroft tracksuit with his kit bag hanging from his shoulder. I scowl at him. He should be climbing onto that bus and leaving with Nicole right now, so why the hell is he coming over here instead? When he stops, he’s closer than I want him to be and we stare at each other, or more accurately, I glare at him and he stares at me, both of us as silent as the grave. He glances down at the jersey I’m wearing and something dark flashes in his eyes.
“You watched the game?” He eventually asks.
“No, I came here to pick flowers.”
I level him with a pointed look and shake my head, irritated.
What a stupid question.
The sarcastic reply earns me a thunderous glare and Marco folds his arms across his chest defensively. “You don’t have to be difficult, Ellie. Can’t we be civil about this?”
I snort disbelievingly.
He wants me to be civil?
Me?
All I’ve done is be angry and upset at him for handling our break up like an absolute fucking prick and now he wants me to what? Validate his decision or pretend he did the right thing for both of us and act like everything is fine now? I laugh bitterly at the thought and it occurs to me that this is the first time we’ve interacted since our break up and my animosity towards him hasn’t died in the slightest.
“Were you being civil when you had Nicole draped all over your lap at The Arms last night, not even a week after our relationship ended?”
Shock registers in his brown eyes, confirming that I’ve caught him off guard, before the full force of his anger returns.
“Oh yeah? And what about you?” He spits out, “You think I didn’t see those pictures of you throwing yourself at Colin Hunt like some fucking s lag? That I didn’t hear about you leaving with him?”
I know what he’s doing.
He’s trying to label me as a hypocrite and maybe I am one to some extent, but I didn’t plan on trying to be civil with him.
I planned on avoiding him for the rest of my life if I could help it.
“Don’t try to make this my fault!” I counter hotly, “Believe whatever you want, but I didn’t plan on kissing Colin. I didn’t plan on kissing anyone, actually! I was upset and a little drunk, and it happened. Maybe it wasn’t my best moment, but don’t insult me by pretending whatever you and Nicole were doing was some recent development. I saw the way she looked at me when we first met. You both couldn’t wait for me to be out of the picture and you know it!”
I could accept Marco and I not being in a relationship if we weren’t meant to be together. I’d get over it. Clearly, our relationship was flawed from the start. That’s not the issue here. It’s the fact that he’s incapable of owning up to his actions with Nicole that makes me sick to my stomach. I feel like I don’t even know him. I used to consider him a friend if nothing else. Now he’s just a shell. A stranger.
“Don’t fucking push me, Ellie.” He warns.
“Or what?”
What’s he going to do with all these eye-witnesses around?
His stormy eyes narrow dangerously and I turn my chin up, smirking slightly.
Yeah. That’s what I thought.
He never liked it when I stood up to him in the past either.
“Go screw yourself, Marco or better yet, go ask her to do it. She already is and probably has been for months now. ”
I move to push off the wall, needing to get as far away from him as possible, but his hand suddenly shoots out and connects with my shoulder, roughly pinning me back in place. Within seconds, Marco crowds into my space, his large, intimidating presence radiating with pure hostility and stifling the air around me. He bares his teeth in anger and fear accelerates my already frantic heartbeat.
Wh-what is he doing?
I’ve never seen him this pissed off before or witnessed the level of ferocity displayed in his eyes now. Ex-boyfriend or not, this isn’t the Marco I know. Off the rugby field, he’s never been aggressive or shown any inclination towards acting on violent tendencies. Not towards me anyway. I swallow anxiously and my eyes dart around, desperately searching for a way to escape or to attract someone’s attention, but we’re hidden from view behind a thick concrete pillar.
No one can see us.
“You think you aren’t a hypocrite, Ellie? You’re a bigger one than me. Look at you wearing his fucking jersey with his fucking number on the back. Kissing him. Cheering for him. Letting those fucking pictures spread all over social media so they’d get inside my fucking head.” He smirks, but there’s nothing playful about it as he presses closer. “What did you do? Did you finally decide to spread these pretty little legs perhaps? Maybe if you’d done that for me I wouldn’t have gone to Nicole in the first place.”
His fingers brush the inside of my thigh and I snarl, hot tears streaming down my cheeks before I throw my arms out and my palms connect with his chest, shoving him away from me as hard as I can .
“Get the hell off me!” I scream, hoping someone nearby will hear the commotion .
Marco stumbles backwards, but steadies himself quickly, his eyes turning almost black with rage as he advances on me again. My muscles tense and my legs start to shake, but just as I’m about to make a run for it my eyes shift, landing on the person standing directly behind him.
“Touch her again, Anderson and I’ll break your fucking hands.”