Red Secrets (Marcus Rashford)

Award night

As the week dragged on, the tension between Marcus and me only grew thicker. Since that last conversation—if you could even call it that—he'd been avoiding me at every opportunity. Whether it was sneaking out of a room or coming up with some excuse to leave, Marcus had made it painfully clear he wanted to keep his distance. It hurt, more than I cared to admit, but I had no idea how to fix it.

Jadon had invited Marcus and Jesse over to his house so they could all get ready together because tonight was the Manchester United award ceremony. I took my time getting dressed upstairs, slipping into the sleek, black dress I'd chosen for the night. It was tight-fitting, hugging every curve in just the right way, and the smoky eye makeup and loose beach waves I styled my deep brown hair into completed the look. I felt confident, powerful even. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and I wasn't going to let anything or anyone bring me down. When I was finally ready, I took a deep breath and made my way down the stairs. As I descended, the voices in the living room quieted, and I felt three pairs of eyes lock onto me.

Jadon's reaction was immediate. His face lit up, his jaw practically on the floor. "Babe, you look... wow. I mean, you look unreal." He walked over, his hands finding my waist as he spun me around slowly to admire the dress. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world." Jesse, as always, hyped me up with his playful energy. "Damn, Sofia! You're gonna steal the show tonight. Jadon, you better keep an eye on her, man." I laughed, trying to take their compliments in stride, but I couldn't ignore Marcus out of the corner of my eye. He was standing back, watching, his expression unreadable. After what felt like forever, he finally spoke, keeping his tone casual. "You look great, Sofia."

Just great? I could feel his eyes lingering on me longer than they should have, but the subtle compliment was all he gave. It was like he was trying to hold back something, to suppress the same pull that I felt every time we were in the same room.

The private driver arrived shortly after, and we all piled into the sleek car. Jadon and I sat side by side, his arm slung around my shoulders as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear, making me giggle. Jesse sat across from Jadon, and Marcus—directly across from me.

*Marcus' POV*

The drive to the event felt longer than it should've been. Maybe it was because I was stuck in this car with Jadon and Sofia, watching them laugh and whisper to each other like they didn't have a care in the world. Jesse sat next to me, oblivious to how hard I was trying not to stare across the car at her.

Sofia.

She was sitting right there, inches away, wearing this tight black dress that hugged her in all the right places. I hated how good she looked, hated how much I wanted to keep looking, to let my eyes wander, even though I knew I shouldn't. Jadon's arm was draped casually around her, his hand resting on her bare shoulder, and the sight of it made my stomach twist. Jadon was saying something—making her laugh, no doubt—but I wasn't listening. Every time I looked at her, my brain short-circuited. The waves of her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, her skin glowing in the dim lighting of the car. She was perfection.

I shifted in my seat, forcing myself to look at Jesse as he talked about something I couldn't even focus on. But out of the corner of my eye, I could still see her. When she smiled, her eyes lit up, and it only made it harder for me to keep my distance.

I glanced over at her again—just a quick look, I told myself—but it turned into more than that. The way the fabric of her dress clung to her figure was enough to drive anyone mad. My fingers twitched, my whole body buzzing with the tension I was trying to keep in check. Every time she shifted in her seat, I had to force myself to keep a straight face. I couldn't look too long, couldn't make it obvious that I was staring at her.