The Tutor (BOOK 2: OMEN KING SERIES)

|𝟸𝟸|

Jenny Johnson

Finally, the never-ending football game comes to a close, and there he is-Romeo, jogging towards me in his white and blue football gear. He looks like a god, all sweaty and alive, his helmet off, revealing that beautiful mess of black hair and those mesmerizing chocolate eyes that seem to pull me in. And that smile-it's so ridiculously handsome that it makes my heart do this weird fluttery thing.

As he stops in front of me, I can't help but clap, a bit too loudly, like a seal on steroids. A laugh spills from his lips, warm and inviting, and I lean back against the uncomfortable bleachers, feeling small, insignificant even, as he towers over me in his football player glory.

I wish I could capture this moment, freeze it in time.

"So, were you totally lost on the rules?" he asks, smirking, his brow raised like he's teasing me.

I let out a light laugh, forcing myself to look confident, pretending I know what I'm talking about. "Oh, you were amazing! Four touchdowns and twelve assists, right?"

He looks impressed, his eyes widening, and I feel a rush of pride swell inside me. But I have no clue what those terms even mean. I might have overheard some random guy in the bleachers tossing them around, but I won't admit that now. Watching him throw the ball perfectly, sprinting faster than anyone else-it's all I needed to know that he was the best on that field.

"You were late," he says, furrowing his brows and nodding at some passing football players, his tone suddenly a bit more serious.

"I texted you," I retort, pulling out my phone and unlocking it, desperate to prove my point.

The screen lights up, and for a moment, I feel powerful, like I hold evidence that will make him understand. His eyes squint momentarily, adjusting to the brightness, before he sighs and nods. It's a small victory, but I cling to it like a lifeline.

"You know, I'm starting to believe you're utterly fixated on me, Romeo," I quip, trying to hide the smirk threatening to break out.

His chuckle is like music, and he ruffles his hair, looking so carefree that it almost makes me forget the world around us. "Maybe in another lifetime, blondie," he replies, and I roll my eyes, feigning exasperation. But inside, it's like I'm floating, caught in the warmth of his presence.

Then, everything changes.

"Romeo!" A deep voice cuts through the air, harsh and commanding, making Romeo's body tense. He freezes, and for a heartbeat, I can't tell if he's even breathing.

I follow his gaze, my stomach turning when I see a man who looks remarkably like him-same sharp jawline, same features, though the hair is streaked with silver. His amber eyes burn with a quiet rage that sends a chill down my spine. It's like watching a storm roll in, dark and threatening, and I want to run, to hide, but I can't move.

"Dad," Romeo mutters, and suddenly, the vibrant, charismatic boy I was just teasing fades away.

The light in his eyes dims, leaving behind a scared, vulnerable young man that makes my heart ache. I'm not sure what to make of this sudden shift; it's like I'm watching a play and the leading actor has forgotten his lines.

"What the hell was that performance? Are you trying to embarrass me?" His dad yells, and the coldness in his tone slices through the air like a knife. It's the kind of voice that makes my skin crawl, like he's scolding a dog for not fetching the ball.

Romeo shrinks back, avoiding his dad's gaze, and I want to scream, to tell the man that he's wrong, that he has no idea how hard Romeo has worked. But I'm frozen, caught in this whirlwind of emotions. His dad's voice drops, and suddenly he's smiling at people who cheer him on, fans that seem to adore him. I realize he's some sort of public figure, and that makes everything worse.