Soccer ~★ bxb romance novel ★~

Chapter 11 ~ Sunday

Max

My game was off on Sunday afternoon. My stress had only worsened and Sammy and Ken's persistence to know all the details of Friday night didn't help. Kendrick's team won in the practice match and my mood fell off another steep cliff.

I took my time in the changerooms because my mum had texted to say she was running late, and I cursed myself when I emerged from the shower to face the change rooms, alone except for one other person: James Kendrick. Of course.

I needed to break the tension.

"What are you still doing here?" I spoke out dryly.

His mum was late.

I shuffled around to my bag, shoving on my shirt and boxers discreetly before finally acknowledging the elephant in the room. I begged my voice not to shake as I mentioned the party.

"I saw you at the party on Friday."

"I saw you too, but I didn't say hi, I mean- I didn't want to interrupt you." His lack of game-playing made my life easier and my attention was captured. His stutter was unlike him and it intrigued me.

"You looked pretty preoccupied too. I didn't think you were a relationship guy, but I also didn't think you were into PDA. You really put on a show for us." I commented. I knew I was slutshaming, but I wanted to push him further. I was disappointed by his nonchalant shrug and rolled my eyes at the flaky paint on the changeroom wall before turning back to face him.

"Well, if you enjoyed it, that's all that matters."

James' boldness irritated me and I pretended to laugh at his joke. I expected the conversation to end there but it seemed Kendrick wanted to keep playing with me.

"So, who was that guy you were with? He was cute." He spoke in a condescending tone. The guy was fucking with me, whether he knew it or not.

"Why do you want to know?" I answered defensively.

"So, I can get his number?"

What the fuck? I thought. But then I remembered the way he shamelessly grinded into the random guy at the party and my confusion faded. I hated that Jake was being brought into his mind game.

"Right. Of course you would. He's a friend of mine from school."

"And you like him?" James asked bluntly.

He saw right through me and I panicked. So I lied.

"What are you trying to get at here? Your stupid games are tiring, Kendrick."

I spoke out honestly. But I didn't stop there. I angrily shoved my gear into my bag to stop myself from saying anything else I would regret and losing my cool. If I did, it could have been the end for me.

"Are you jealous? Are you trying to get under my skin and fuck over my season? Seriously James."

I managed to maintain my voice at a low volume but the temptation to shout was soon going to over power me.

"I thought that was pretty obvious." James spoke softly after a calculated pause.

Was he flirting with me? Nothing and everything was obvious and our argument didn't clarify or correct my conflicted feelings towards him. My struggle in identifying my attraction or envy was amplified and I met his eyes, trying to read him. I denied myself the privilege of believing that maybe he had feelings towards me. I dragged my hand through my tangled wet locks and sighed "You confuse the shit out of me, James,".

"Don't call me that." He snapped back. "You don't get to call me James." James added, with a darkness to his tone I couldn't place.

I flinched and he turned away. His phone chimed and he quickly grabbed his things. His golden frame shuffled over the tiles, closer to the door. I followed my urge, grasped his upper arm and pushed his weight back so that we were facing each other properly. For once his emotions were written on his face, the blush on his cheeks screaming his embarrassment and his gaze rising from the ground to meet mine and mask shame.

"Why, James?" I demanded.

The corner of his red mouth twitched. "I can't get over you when you give me special treatment like that. Knowing you don't want me is enough torture." He was looking up at me through his lashes. I held his eye contact, floored for a way to respond. This couldn't be real.

"What gave you that impression?" I asked.

James shook his head at me and stepped away. He scraped his teeth across his bottom lip, fast. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"No, no. You can't do that, Max." He said, his voice almost panicked.

"You've been tossing me around just because you think I'm not attracted to you? God, James! Get a grip on yourself." I exclaimed, swiping my hand over my forehead.

James said nothing. He sat down next to my bag and took a long drink from my water bottle.

"Please," James said under his breath.

"Please what?"
He stood up again, and paced dangerously fast towards me. My veins were on fire under his blues eyes, softened, vulnerable and pleading.

"Please tell me you feel this too." He said.

I shut my eyes, conflicted. "We are professionals. Don't put me in this position. You're putting our careers on the line for this... insane ego trip."

After James' scowl fizzled away, his eyes seemed to brighten. "You're scared."

It was my turn to shake my head. I snatched my bag and I ran. 

***

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale... I could hear my blood coursing through my entire body, and it wasn't because of the movement. Just when I thought I got a hold of him, James spun everything around on me. The truth.

My phone lit up with a text. Jake. My stomach dropped further down. The thought of Jake knowing about this made me feel sick, but it was so plainly obvious now that my feelings for Jake were fleeting.

And he deserved better than me, deserved better than being my escape from someone else.