I’ll die if it’s true.
Don’t let this be all this can be.
He shakes his head, a strand of wavy hair falling across his forehead. I reach out and brush it back. “It’s not goodbye,” he says. “Tomorrow, I’m going to pick you up after practice and take you away somewhere.”
I grin with relief. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise.” He leans in and kisses me softly on my lips. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say, my voice sounding small.
I get out of the cab and watch it pull away, driving off into the night, the exhaust hanging in the cold air. But I’ve never felt warmer.
Fifteen
Luciano
“Where’s your fucking head at, Luciano?” Benedito yells at me.
I avoid his eyes, running past him to get the ball that apparently soared past me, and I didn’t even attempt to make it stop.
“Sorry, sorry,” I say, spinning around and kicking it back to him.
Practice is wrapping up and I’ve spent most of it with my head in the fucking clouds.
Or, to be more specific, it’s been wrapped up in Ruby.
Benedito runs over to me, his eyes narrowed.
“What?” I say, throwing out my arms in exasperation.
“You’re being sloppy. Not a good look, Capitão.”
“We all have our days.”
“Not you,” he says, poking his finger into my chest. “Never you. You’re always the one who has the focus, even when we don’t. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Not even a little.”
He observes me for a moment. “Then something is right. What went right for you?”
I shrug, looking away. Leonardo, our coach, is barking at a few players, and I know we’re about to head into the locker room.
“It’s that girl,” he says after a beat.
I give him a sharp look. “What girl?”
“The girl from the nightclub. The one with the breasts.”
I press my lips together. I’m not saying anything.
Benedito gives me a shit-eating grin and slaps me on the back. “Look at you. Just look at you. My man, you have it bad.”
“I didn’t say a word!” I start running off to the showers, to escape his astute powers of deduction, and get ready for my date.
Benedito yells after me. “You deserve to get laid, my man!”
Of course, everyone is looking at me now.
I raise my palm as if to say, yes, hi, that’s me, and then I jog off the pitch.
Thankfully, I shower and get ready with only a little ribbing from my teammates, and then I’m driving off toward the city, eager to pick up Ruby.
I have to admit, I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this anxious before. Definitely not over a woman. The game, yes, I’m a tangle of nerves before each one, and it’s remarkable that everyone says I’m so collected on the pitch, because I feel anything but, even when I’m confident in our skills.
But over someone else?
No.
And it’s not because I haven’t dated. I’ve had my fun, but there’s never been anyone that I wanted to get to know, and even if there was someone that came close, it was nothing compared to how I feel about Ruby.
Frankly, I think I’m fucking screwed.
I was the moment I saw her.
Again.
This time the dilemma is a little more real. She doesn’t have a time limit. She gave that Schengen Visa the finger, broke the rules, decided to stay in Europe indefinitely. She’s living with her friend in Helsinki, she’s off her (illegal) work right now. She can stay in Lisbon, if she wants to.
Of course, that doesn’t make things less complicated. I have a feeling we’re always going to be complicated. The only time that things seem easy and straightforward is when I’m coming inside her, making her eyes roll back, using our bodies to do all the planning.
For one, there’s the fact that we’ve literally just been on one date and I’m already trying to make room for her in my life, without knowing how she feels about me. Ruby says things that make me think she wants to be with me, but then again Ruby is like a leaf in the wind, lost and searching, and I don’t know if I’m what she’s looking for.
For two, there’s Marco.
I never told him what happened with Ruby before—that she came by my place after he dumped her, that she spent her last moments with me. That I’m sure I made her come harder than he ever did, that I cared for her more than he ever could.
I kept that to myself.
Marco probably wouldn’t care too much anyway. He certainly never mentioned Ruby after he sent her on her way. Sure, if he knew that I was with his ex-girlfriend, his pride would be ruined and he would hate me, resent me, more than he already does. But his heart wouldn’t be broken. He never cared for her.
And still, it’s a secret.
A secret that would come to light if Ruby and I were ever to make a go of things.
A secret that would make fire rain down upon us.
If his stepfather knew…I would hate to think what he would do. There’s only so much he can do to hurt me. He can sling his insults, his underhanded comments, and if he tried to hurt me physically, I’d have no problems fighting back. I know he’s a tough guy, but so am I. I’m not that little kid anymore. I’m built as fuck and I’ve had twenty-five years of rage built up toward him. I would win. No contest. And probably be arrested for assault.
But Ruby?
He could hurt her.
And I don’t mean physically, least I don’t think.
It wouldn’t take much to find out she’s here illegally. He could get her deported with a simple phone call. I know that sounds like a villainous move, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He knows that she was Marco’s girlfriend, that after the night at the sports gala when they appeared on the red carpet together, the world saw they were together.
If he knew that me, his hated stepson, took Ruby from the apple
