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Chapter 2- Leo's POV

"I'm back," I called into the darkness of my empty house, flicking the lightswitch and illuminating the whole household. It wasn't really necessary to light the whole place and I knew it would run up an extremely large electricity bill, but whatever. That was the last thing on my mind and besides- I had the money to cover it and more. 

I kicked off my shoes by the door and sauntered through to the kitchen. "You know what I need?" I said aloud, "I need a drink." 

I was met with silence as I threw open the fridge and grabbed a can of beer, cracking it open and walking through to the living room. I stared down at the sofa which was too big for someone who lived on their own and sighed heavily. I hated the loneliness. 

But it was my own fault. I had thousands of girls swooning over me, I could easily ask one of them to hook up with me, and I wouldn't have to be answered with emptiness all the the time. 

"Yeah, but hooking up with a random fangirl doesn't mean she's the right one," I muttered and sat down. All of a sudden, I wasn't thirsty anymore and I sat the beer down on the far side of the table before flunking down onto the oversized sofa. I didn't feel like turning on the TV or playing the Xbox. I didn't feel like doing anything, really.

Until my t-shirt rode up slightly and I noticed the black edges of Cat's number inked onto my skin. 

I pushed myself up into a sitting position and pulled my t-shirt up further to stare at the number. It was difficult to read from my angle, but it wasn't impossible. "Fuck, I said I'd call her," I sighed. The fact that Catalina Aracelle Sanchez's number wasn't the only girl's number I'd been given, but was the only girl's number that I cared to use, never crossed my mind at that moment. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, created a new contact under Cat's name and keyed in the number- double checking that 07926173079 was definitely what was scrawled across my adomen. 

Five minutes later and I was staring down at the text I'd crafted- unsure of whether to press send or not. There was no guarantee that she'd reply. She hadn't come across as being particularly desperate for me to answer her. I mentally scolded myself for my idiocy and hit the send button. 

Now all that was left to do was wait.

I turned my phone of and threw it to the far end of the sofa and feeling myself growing tired, folded my arms behind my head and closed my eyes. "It'll be Sod's Law that she texts back while I'm asleep," I said to myself, before drifting off. 

She looked up at me from the ground; cheeks flushed and blonde hair framing her face. Her blue eyes glinted in embarrassment and the faintest flash of recognition crossed her features as she registered who she'd crashed into. She turned her attention back to her things which had fallen from her bag and I mentally noted the FC Barcelona pad lying beside her right leg. So she was a supporter?

I handed her a feathered pencil that had slid to my feet and helped her up. She took a moment to regain her balance and I was suddenly aware of the heat radiating from her. We were too close to one another considering we were strangers- but something in me didn't think we were close enough and when I looked down into those blue eyes again, I had to do everything in my power to prevent myself from pressing her up against one of the walls and kissing her like there was no tomorrow. 

You don't even fucking know this girl Leo, I thought, get a hold of yourself!

But the way she was looking at me was turning my insides to fire. To anyone else, her looks were average; she didn't have the curviest hips or the biggest arse or breasts and up close you could see the faint scattering of light brown freckles that crossed her cheeks and her nose. A few wisps of her naturally-highlighted blonde hair brushed against the side of her face. Her blue irises were rimmed with darker blue and the irises themselves were flecked with a spectrum of different shades, with the slightest tinge of green around the pupil. 

To me, she was beautiful. And damnit all- I wanted her. 

"Hey, Leo, shift your arse. We have training!" 

Cold water splashed onto me and I bolted upright. My best friend and Barcelona team-mate Pedro Rodriguez was leaning over the back of the couch, an empty glass in hand. I scowled at him and he laughed and stood up. 

"Come on, get dressed or we'll be late," he said and threw my training backpack down onto my stomach. I coughed at the impact and raised an eyebrow at Pedro. He'd already packed my stuff?

The backpack was shortly followed by my trainers and my tracksuit. I rolled my eyes, taking the hint that I was to get a move on, and left to go get changed- not without grabbing my phone on the way.

Half an hour and a hurried breakfast later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Pedro's car- staring down at my reflection on my iPhone's screen as it sat in my lap. I was too nervous to check if Cat had answered me. 

How could a girl make me nervous? Matches with my team made me nervous. Girls shouldn't.

"What's up with you?" I glanced up as Pedro spoke and forced a smile under his gaze.

"Nothing," I said, "focus on the road." 

I heard him laugh as he turned to stare out the windscreen of the car  again. "Meowch," was all he said. 

I stared at the side of his head in confusion. "Meowch?" I repeated. 

Pedro turned back to me, smiling. "You're being a bit catty," he explained. I raised an eyebrow at his new word and looked back down at my phone.

Completely forgetting that I was trying to avoid turning it on; I acted on instinct, pressed the button and the screen lit up. 

 I had a text.

"Speaking of Cats..." I mumbled, a smile growing on my lips. 

It was her.