Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)
Mateo walks me up to the door of my building where we stand a few feet apart, staring at each other awkwardly.
“So, can I see you again?” His dark eyes are fixed on me, unwavering. I shiver with deja vu. I want to run away from those familiar eyes. That wouldn’t be fair. It’s not Mateo’s fault that they remind me of someone else’s deep brown gaze.
A sophomore, Mateo is here from Barcelona on a football scholarship—same as me. The girl’s footy team does a few events with the men, which is how we met. He asked me out twice before I reluctantly agreed.
It doesn’t hurt that Mateo is easy to look at—tan skin, e
yes so dark they almost look black, full lips, and perfect teeth. His slightly too-long hair always falls into his eyes, which makes him that much sexier. Plus, since he’s a footy player he’s super fit. He reminds me of a Spanish version of Oliver Giroud. Only, I can’t bring myself to see him as more than a friend.
I’m the only one who gets the friend vibe from Mateo. Nearly all of my teammates are jealous that he asked me out. Yet I can’t seem to find the proper amount of enthusiasm. My heart just won’t let go of the past. Ten years of believing you were meant for someone else isn’t an easy thing to move past. God knows I’m trying.
When Mateo leans in for a kiss, I reluctantly allow it, praying it will wipe away my memories of Dax. My heart is racing when his warm lips meet mine, gently pressing against them. He doesn’t deepen it or push for more, yet it feels wrong. Too intimate. Too…different.
Mateo is the only man I’ve ever kissed besides Dax. Even though it was ages ago it feels as if I’m cheating.
Mateo pulls back, his eyelids heavy with desire. His pupils are wide and his cheeks are flushed. I can tell he wants more, but thankfully, he’s too kind to push. Instead, he steps back, releasing me. “Good night, Kate. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I nod before turning to fumble with the lock. Once inside I bolt for the lifts and say a silent thank you when a set of doors immediately opens. Inside, I slump against the wall, fighting to keep back the tears.
I’m afraid. Afraid that Mateo will have expectations of things I can’t give him. Afraid I’ll never be able to love anyone but Dax. Afraid I’ll be alone forever because I can’t move on from a man who was never mine. Most of all, I’m afraid that my opportunity to be happy has come and gone and no matter how hard I try to forget Dax, I’ll be miserable for the rest of my life.
Dax
Sweat drips off of my neck, trickling down between my shoulder blades. Los Angeles is a bloody nightmare of a city. It’s hot and sunny all the damn time, which wouldn’t be so bad if there were decent public transportation. But after spending an hour and a half making two bus changes to get to the UCLA campus, I’m pretty much done with the heat and the traffic.
It takes me another thirty minutes to cross campus to the section with student housing. A piercing ring startles me right as I stop in front of Hedrick Summit, a tall dormitory on the far side of the university property. Groaning, I fish my mobile out of my pocket.
“Yeah?”
“Dax? Where are you man?”
Jesus, Adam sounds like bloody fucking hell. Again. “Adam, I told you yesterday that I was going to see if I could find Kate at UCLA.”
His rough voice crackles through the phone. “Oh. I don’t remember.”
Of course he doesn’t remember. He’s always on a piss up these days. After Ellie broke up with him this summer for absolutely no reason, he’s been self-destructive times a thousand, finding peace in an endless supply of blondes and booze. Not that I’m one to talk. I was so angry and frustrated when Kate caught me getting head at the club that I flipped out the next day and attacked Adam’s wanker of a dad—forcing Adam and me to leave the U.K. six weeks ahead of schedule.
“What do you need, Adam?”
“Ummmm, I can’t remember, really. I woke up and everyone was gone. Where are Hawke and Gavin?”
My patience is wearing thin. Adam’s my best mate and I’d do anything for him, but being his nanny isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
“I don’t know. They didn’t ask me for permission to leave the flat. Get cleaned up and eat something for Christ’s sake. We have a gig tonight. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Sighing, I rein in my anger, easily trapping my emotions inside where they can fester with everything else in my life that I’ve repressed under my dad’s tutelage.
I snap the mobile closed and stuff it in my pocket. Hawke’s uncle, Ross Evans, is now our manager. He gave each of us a mobile to keep in touch in case he needs us for anything. For me, it’s become a tether to my fragile best mate.
“Room 1425,” I say to myself, trying to work up the nerve to walk inside the looming building. Students bound up the stairs past me, laughing and chatting like the world isn’t about to implode. For some reason, I have to make things right with Kate. I have to see her again.
Ever since Kate refused to speak to me after that night at the fight club, I’ve been a miserable bastard. She literally caught me with my pants down and my reward sucking me off in the locker room
Dad’s theory that withholding sexual release from us before a fight made us quick-tempered enough to step into the ring. But the promise of a whore to suck us off and rid us of the frustration after? That’s what made us determined to win. It pissed me off that he taught us that way, but it pissed me off even more to know that he was right.
I nearly took Shaun’s head off when he admitted to letting Kate and her friend into the club. In fact, he was the one who directed them to the locker room. To this day, when I think about it, every bit of rage I felt that night comes flooding back.
“Shaun, you useless fucking twat! Why’d you let them back here?” I storm out of the locker room, exchanging embarrassment and shame for red-tinged fury.
My brother’s dark eyes narrow as he folds his muscular arms over his chest. “I thought they were your reward. You know, a twofer.”