LOGINXander Savage plays with footballs. Freya Woods plays with hearts. The other plays to win, one plays for fun. Xander is the campus football champion, gentle, gorgeous, misunderstood. Everyone thinks he’s a player, but he’s actually the only good boy in school. Freya is the campus play girl, bold, wild. When fate throws them together, sparks fly…Neither knows their souls have met before…long ago, in another life, where they loved passionately and broke disastrously. But this time? They’re destined to rewrite their ending…can they actually re write the stars? LOVE ME LIKE A CHAMPION is a reincarnation campus romance about a boy who loves too deeply and a girl who’s terrified to be loved.
View MoreChapter One: Blocked him on snap
“GOALLLLLL!!!”
The roar that erupted from North Fall University Stadium felt like an earthquake tearing through. It thundered from the stands, rolled across the green pitch, and exploded into the open sky above Manchester.
Red and white confetti burst into the air. Drums pounded. Whistles screamed. The scoreboard blinked once then settled.
UNITED ROYALS 2 — MANCHESTER UNITED 1
The match was over. The crowd went insane. On the sidelines, the Twinkle Cheerleading Club leapt into synchronized motion, pom-poms flashing under the stadium lights. Their leader, Wendy Savage, was already screaming herself hoarse.
“That’s my big brother!” Wendy yelled, jumping so hard her blue ponytail whipped wildly behind her. “That’s my brother! Did you see that strike?!”
The girls around her laughed and screamed louder, feeding off her excitement.
Wendy was impossible to miss. Nineteen years old, electric blue hair styled into a high ponytail, glitter dusted across her cheeks. She was beautiful in a bold, fearless way. She clutched her pom-poms to her chest, eyes shining.
“He never misses,” she said breathlessly. “Never.”
On the pitch, Xander Savage stood frozen for half a second after the goal, his chest rising, sweat clinging to his skin, heart still pounding from the sprint that had led to the strike. Then his teammates crashed into him.
“You’re the baddest!” one of them shouted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“That curve?” another laughed. “That bloody curve?!”
Xander stumbled back with a small laugh, hands lifting instinctively as if to steady them all. His dark hair was damp, falling messily over his forehead. His jersey clung to his torso, number 9 bold against his back. He didn’t look like someone who had just ended a match. He looked calm.
“That was beautiful, mate,” the team captain said, gripping his shoulder. “Absolutely amazing.”
Xander exhaled slowly. “It was just instinct.”
“Just instinct,” someone scoffed. “You’re unreal, Savage.”
Across the pitch, Freya Woods adjusted her camera lens, fingers moving fast but steady. She had been tracking the ball seconds before the final goal, body already angled, breath already held.
“Shkrrt” The camera made its noise.
She caught the strike mid-air, the way Xander’s leg swung, the tension in his calf, the very moment his foot met with the ball.
“Shkrrt” She caught the goalkeeper’s despair. She caught the crowd erupting behind him, frozen in jubilation. Freya lowered the camera slightly, her lips curving in quiet satisfaction.
“Perfect,” she murmured to herself.
She had been on the sidelines the entire match, she was North Fall University’s Creative Arts department year 2 student. The Sports Department knew her name, so did most of campus. Freya Woods didn’t miss moments, she captured them.
Her short curls framed her face in soft rebellion, bouncing as she moved. She wore ripped black jeans and an oversized hoodie that was accessorized, camera strap slung across her chest. At nineteen, she was doing well for herself.
She lifted the camera again, zooming in on Xander as he turned toward the stands. That was when she caught the handshake.
Xander jogged toward the sideline where Wendy had broken formation, already leaning dangerously over the barrier.
“XANDER!” she screamed.
He laughed and met her halfway. They clasped hands, twisted their wrists, bumped fists, then knocked knuckles twice before pulling apart. That was their signature handshake.
Freya snapped the shot instinctively. Something about the intimacy of it made the image powerful.
“That’s his sister?” a voice beside her asked.
Freya glanced sideways.
A fellow photographer, older, nodded toward the cheerleader. “The blue-haired one. You must be new on campus not to know her.”
Freya adjusted her focus again. “Yeah. Must be really new. Wendy Savage is famous in her own right.”
“Runs that cheer club excellently,” the photographer said. “Savage blood, I guess.”
Freya hummed, eyes still trained on Xander. On the field, Xander ruffled Wendy’s hair before stepping back.
“You did great,” Wendy said, eyes bright. “That second goal? Crazy!”
He smiled softly. “You were louder than the crowd.”
“Obviously,” she said proudly. “I should…”
Behind them, the rest of the stadium surged forward. Students poured closer to the barriers, phones raised, voices overlapping.
“XANDER!”
“SAVAGE!”
“THE PRODIGY!”
“CAMPUS GOD!”
The chants rolled like waves. Xander straightened slightly, shoulders squaring in habit. He lifted a hand in acknowledgment, nodding once to the stands.
Freya caught that too. “Shkrrt”
He wasn’t showy. He didn’t blow kisses or pound his chest. He simply walked and people reacted. Girls began flooding toward him almost immediately, security barely holding them back.
“Xander, picture please!”
“Just one!”
“I love you!”
He stopped for a few, polite as ever.
“Sure,” he said calmly.
“Of course.”
“No worries.”
Freya watched through her lens as he leaned down slightly so a shorter girl could fit into frame, arm hovering respectfully around her shoulder without touching. Another girl giggled too loudly, pressing closer than necessary.
Xander stepped back gently. “Careful,” he said. “You don’t want to trip.”
His tone was soft. Almost shy.
“He’s still the same.” Freya muttered under her breath.
The photographer beside her smirked. “Not what you expected?”
She shook her head. “His backhanded smiles.”
“Savage’s always been like that,” he replied. “So arrogant and rude. Well, what can you expect from a rich person that is famous?”
Freya zoomed in as Xander smiled politely at another fan. Her lips curved faintly.
The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.
“Give it up for your United Royals, and your match-winning striker—XANDER SAVAGE!”
The stadium erupted again. Xander lifted his hand once more, nodding toward the crowd, eyes scanning instinctively until they stopped. For half a second, his gaze landed on Freya. The lens hovered between them. Xander blinked, breaking eye contact first.
Freya exhaled slowly, unaware she’d been holding her breath. She checked the screen. The shot was perfect.
Around them, the celebration continued. Music blasted. Teammates laughed. Wendy danced with her squad. Girls screamed Xander’s name until their voices cracked. And Freya Woods lowered her camera, watching the campus god bask in a victory he made look effortless.
***
“You blocked me on all social media and even deleted my number?” Xander pulled Freya to a corner, holding her arm tightly.
Freya shoved him, freeing her arm. “Yes I did. You just noticed today? Tells me I wasn’t wrong to have done that.”
“Is that what you’re saying? And who said I just noticed today? Lol.” Xander looked around, laughing painfully. “I’ve been sending messages thinking maybe something happened to you, just for me to check my snap and I can’t find you.”
Freya took a step back. “I came to see Wendy.” She said, trying to calm her nerves. “Her photos are ready.”
“You’re the worst talking stage I’ve ever come across.” Xander snapped. “You are everything bad they say you are.”
Freya frowned then turned to walk towards the gate. The mansion was big. It was the biggest she’d ever seen, even in movies. It was more like a castle. This was actually her first time nearing the Savage mansion. She was around the neighborhood covering for a child’s birthday party.
Xander leaned on the wall, watching her. “Drop the photos with the security and leave.” He said, his voice commanding. “I don’t want to see you anywhere close to me, don’t take me pictures during games. Stay away.”
That made Freya laugh for two straight minutes. She turned slowly and looked at him. “I’ve never been around you. You’re not a catch for me, you’re not my type.”
“Oh darling, your type doesn’t exist. You play every boy on campus. You don’t take anyone seriously.” Xander snapped. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Freya Woods.” Freya winked at him then dropped the photo album on his chest, slightly hitting him. She walked away without looking back.
Chapter Twenty Four: Unlikely CareFreya tilted her head slightly as he took a step back, her arms crossed over a small bouquet of flowers and a paper bag.“Freya,” Xander said cautiously, eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?”She raised the flowers and bag with an almost teasing tilt. “I brought Wendy something. Flowers, chocolates. Thought she might like it.”Xander blinked. “Since when do you care about my family?” His tone was sharp but curious, a mixture of suspicion and surprise.Freya exhaled slowly, one shoulder lifting. “I was… worried. She’s in a hospital, Xander. People don’t usually try to drown themselves for fun.”He studied her, noting the faint softness in her eyes. He had not expected concern. “Wendy won’t like this. It’s… not advisable you stay here.”Her gaze lingered on him, then slowly she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly, turning toward the hospital entrance.Xander hesitated, then called after her. “I can drop you home.”Freya paused mid-step, then turned,
Chapter Twenty Three: You’re here?The hospital cafe had thinned out as evening settled over the city. The glass walls reflected the fading light outside, turning the room into a quiet, enclosed world of low voices and clinking cutlery. Xander sat across from Courtney at a small table near the window. Their dinner rested between them, mostly untouched on her side.Courtney had removed her blazer but still looked composed, as if the chaos upstairs had not fractured her control. Her hair was smooth, her posture straight, her expression distant. Only the faint tightness around her eyes betrayed the strain.“You should eat,” Xander said, pushing the plate slightly closer to her.“I’m not hungry.”“You haven’t eaten since morning.”“I’m fine.”He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “You’re not.”Courtney exhaled slowly. “Do not start.”“I’m not starting anything.” He picked up his fork, cut a small piece of chicken, and held it out toward her. “Open.”She stared at him. “Xander.”“Op
Chapter Twenty Two: Reckless decisionThe private hospital room was quiet. The machines beside Wendy’s bed hummed softly, steady and indifferent. The curtains were half drawn, letting in pale afternoon light that flattened everything into muted shades.Wendy lay propped against white pillows, an oxygen tube resting beneath her nose. Her hair was brushed back from her face, though it still looked damp at the edges. A faint bruise colored her cheekbone where it had struck the tile during the chaos at the pool. Her skin looked too pale against the sheets.Xander sat beside her, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely as if he did not trust them to stay steady. He had not changed clothes. His shirt was wrinkled and still faintly marked from where he had held her.Greg stood by the window, staring out at nothing in particular, phone in hand, though he had not made a single call in the last ten minutes.Wendy blinked slowly and turned her head toward Xander. “You look terrible,” she murm
Chapter Twenty One: Silly thing to doThe Savage mansion had never felt small until that evening.Wendy stood at the edge of the indoor pool, staring into water that reflected the high white ceiling and nothing else. The house was quiet in that artificial way wealthy houses often were, insulated from the world by thick glass and thicker secrets. Somewhere upstairs, a door closed. Somewhere down the hall, a clock ticked.She had walked past Xander’s room minutes earlier. His door had been slightly open, music low, the glow of his laptop lighting the dark. He had not seen her.Her phone was in her hand. The screen was cracked from where she had thrown it the night before. Notifications still stacked up despite the silence setting. Her name. Her family name. Screenshots. Conspiracy threads. Memes. Voice notes. A hundred strangers dissecting her existence.She dropped the phone on a nearby chair.“It won’t stop,” she whispered to herself.She stepped closer to the water until the tips of
Chapter Eleven: Flourish CopperXander’s sleek black car cruised past the outskirts of the city, the skyline fading behind as he approached neighborhoods where his world rarely ventured. The late morning sun filtered through dusty air. As he rounded a corner, a cluster of people gathered along the
Chapter Fourteen: Who dat boy?Freya slept restlessly. Pain tugged at her ribs every time she shifted, dull and persistent, like a reminder she couldn’t escape even in dreams. The apartment was dark, curtains drawn, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside her window. He
Chapter Eighteen: Digital princessFreya leaned back in her chair, the glow of her laptop screen painting her face in shades of midnight blue. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional clatter from her fingers tapping the keyboard.Outside, the city slumbered under a haze of streetlights an
Chapter Fifteen: The worst way to thank you Freya’s first steps back onto campus felt heavier than they should have.North Fall University buzzed the way it always did: students laughing, arguing, rushing past with backpacks slung over one shoulder, phones pressed to their ears. Nothing had slowed


















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