[BOOK2]
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lose her.
And losing Isla? That's not an option.
*******
Is...
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Leaving Isla in my room this morning felt like trying to quit breathing. Impossible. Painful. And a little bit stupid, if I was being honest. Because no matter how much I told myself to walk away, she was still there.
In my bed.
In my jersey.
In my head.
I knew she'd wake up with that sharp tongue ready to flay me alive, her hangover clouding the memory of how she ended up tangled in my sheets. But the sight of her curled up like she belonged there? That wasn't something I could forget.
Her dark eyes found mine, hazy with sleep but focused enough to pin me in place. She didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. Her gaze screamed everything she refused to admit. And damn it, I wanted to pull her against me, fist my hands in her messy hair, and drown in the chaos she brought to my life.
It wasn't fair. How could she look so perfect wearing something of mine? Like a claim I hadn't realized I staked but now couldn't imagine giving up.
Fuck, I can feel my dick tenting in my shorts just thinking about her.
Walking out of that room felt like a punishment. Shooting penalty shots on the field was supposed to burn off the frustration, but the ball hitting the net wasn't enough to drown out the memories. Isla. Her bare legs, the way my jersey hit mid-thigh, making it impossible not to imagine sliding my hands higher—
"Dwyers!"
Coach's bark jolted me back to reality, and I turned toward him. He stood near a guy who looked too familiar, and as I jogged closer, my stomach sank.
Jake Sutton.
Coach clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder, grinning like he'd just found the golden ticket. "This is Jake Sutton. He just transferred in, and he's gonna be our starting striker."
Jake's smirk was the same as always—smug, sharp, and oozing with the kind of arrogance that made my fists itch. His dark eyes scanned the field before landing on me, glinting with something that screamed challenge.
"Dwyers," Coach said, gesturing at me, "I'll leave you two to catch up, but don't take too long."
Jake didn't wait for an invitation. He sauntered over, his gait full of that infuriating swagger I remembered too well.
"Hey, Theo," he drawled, his tone as fake as the friendliness in his eyes. "Long time, no see."
"Not long enough," I muttered under my breath, my hands tightening into fists at my sides.
Coach, either oblivious or deliberately ignoring the tension rolling off me, moved on, shouting instructions to the rest of the team. But Jake stayed put, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble meant just for me.
"Keeping my girl nice and warm, huh?" His smirk widened, a dagger coated in smugness.
My laugh was sharp, slicing through the space between us. "Your girl?" I stepped in closer, letting my words drip with venom. "Did all that hair gel finally seep into your brain, or were you just born this delusional?"
