Cold and Charisma (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Forty-Three [Mature]

Riley's Perspective

I couldn't feel anything besides a hunger to win.

That's all I've ever wanted.

I didn't care about the way my knees were threatening to buckle beneath me from exhaustion, or the sweat running down my face—I only had one goal in mind.

The one right in front of me.

Austin had just kicked the ball from our end of the field, landing somewhere near the center. One of the midfielders passed it up to me, and I brought it down to my feet, taking it with me as I started dribbling past defenders.

Everyone was watching.

Archer was watching.

This was it—the final deciding game. The one that determined whether I'd go to nationals, to college, to anywhere for that matter. I'd never played with this much fire before, my mind not even processing the announcer or the cheers from the bleachers.

All I could focus on was me, and the ball at my feet.

All I wanted—all I needed—was to make this last tie-breaking goal.

I gritted my teeth, checking defenders with my shoulder as I pushed past them, running purely on adrenaline at this point. Keep your head in the game, Riley. One minute. One goal. C'mon, you got this.

You didn't win all those games for nothing.

You didn't go undefeated your first season for no reason.

Without even thinking, I kicked the ball upward as hard as I could, just hoping—praying—it would land in the net.

It got blocked.

"Fuck—"

But before I could even react, my left winger was already there, jumping up and heading the ball straight into the corner of the net.

A clean, perfect shot.

The whole field erupted.

For a second, I didn't even process it.

I just stood there, staring.

I did it.

No—

We did it.

A smile slowly crept onto my face before I could stop it. My teammates rushed over, patting my back, grabbing onto me like I'd just saved the entire game.

The bleachers were full of people—students, parents—everyone standing, cheering, stomping so loud it felt like it was echoing through my chest.

Oh my fucking god.

"You're the man, Lachkov!" Nathan grabbed my shoulders, shaking me with his gloves still on.

I couldn't even say anything. I was still trying to wrap my head around it. I didn't even think that shot would go in—but it did.

"That was all you, Lach!" the winger said, laughing. "I might've made the goal, but that assist was insane!"

I huffed out a breath, shaking my head, still smiling like an idiot.

I can't believe there was ever a time where I talked down on my teammates—where I told Archer I was above all this. Above playing in a team.

And now look at me.

In a team.

And I wouldn't change it for anything.

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