The Billionaire Jock's Game of Love

Taylor POV

My boyfriend is kissing another woman on the massive Kiss Cam screen – in front of an entire stadium packed with thousands of strangers.

They are in the VIP section. If the Kiss Cam hadn’t caught them, I would never have seen them from where I’m sitting — the farthest, cheapest seats in the arena.

The woman he is kissing looks rich, with that perfect old money blonde hair, paired with a designer outfit to match.

If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe that Dylan, my Dylan, would ever do something like this to me.

My fingers tighten around the cardboard banner in my lap—Cheers for Dylan.

Dylan is one of the football players tonight, and it is his debut game as a professional football player.

As his girlfriend, I'm here to cheer for him.

Now during the halftime break, Dylan should be in his locker room resting for the second half of the game, not cozying up to some rich woman who looks like a model from a magazine

"Taylor…What the..," My best friend, Kiera, gradually snaps out of her stunned state next to me. "Are you kidding me? How could he do that to you?"

Kiera faces me with intense anger in her eyes. "You've been his biggest supporter since day one. And this is how he repays you?"

My chest twists tighter.

I remember the first time I met Dylan back in the training room. I worked as a Physical Therapy student by cleaning his teammates' sweat and monitoring their injuries.

Dylan had a smile which had a mix of playful mischief and charm that made me believe everything he said without question.

I had fallen deep for him. We were both poor students when we started dating, and he needed to spend more time on training whenever he could, so I worked multiple part-times to support his dream and our life together.

And now?

Now, I bought my own ticket, the most affordable one but still a large purchase for me, and spent hours cheering for him, all for this moment when I'm supposed to be proud and happy.

And instead…

It takes a moment for Dylan and the woman to notice the camera or the cheers.

A beat of nervousness washes over Dylan's face before he regains some sort of resolve.

The woman shoves Dylan away while raising her hand to hide her face.

Gasps ripple through the stands around me.

"Are they really that shy—or is this an affair?" a woman behind me said with a laugh.

"That's Dylan, right? The guy who scored today? That woman he kissed. I swear I've seen her somewhere before, but where?"

The crowd around us erupts in laughter, some were already digging to find out who this mystery woman is supposed to be.

"Honestly, I warned you about him." Kiera glares again at the screen with anger. "You deserve someone way better than Dylan. You should break up with that loser, now."

Her anger pulls me halfway back to myself, grounding me in a way my trembling hands can't.

My fingers shake as I text:

Me: What's going on?

The reply comes faster than I expect, slicing me open.

Dylan: You saw it. Let's break up. I didn't know how to tell you.

Just like that.

On the big screen, Dylan quickly slides his phone into his pocket and reaches for the woman's hand. He then brings her out of the camera’s frame, probably towards the backstage, the same way he used to do with me when he played on his college team.

"What did he say?" Kiera asks while leaning a bit to look at my screen.

"How dare him…" Her voice shakes with fury. She shoots to her feet, thrusting both middle fingers toward the field, even though we cannot locate where they are exactly from where we are seated. "Hey, Dylan! You're an absolute loser!"

The people around us don't know what's going on but start laughing anyway.

Suddenly, all the noise around me swells and presses in, suffocating me.

Before I collapse, a firm arm wraps around my waist, steadying me. His touch is solid, grounding, with heat radiating through the fabric of his jacket.

I look up, startled, and meet the jawline of a man who is impossibly handsome. Even with the hat shadowing part of his face, there's a spark in his dark eyes as our hands touch when he steadies me. It hits me then—he's the same guy who'd been sitting quietly beside me earlier.

I noticed him immediately while he was walking towards his seat next to me. Athletic build, steady presence. The baseball cap on his head shaded the rest of his face, obscuring the details, but even without them, I knew he was handsome enough to spell trouble.

The audience around us created a deafening noise, but he stayed completely serene while appearing to exist in a different world beyond the arena's wild environment.

He only tensed up a bit when the kiss cam screen was showing Dylan and the woman kissing.

However, I was too shocked to care more about his reactions after that.

"You okay?" His voice remains steady and controlled as he speaks with a calm tone that does not need loudness to gain attention from others.

I swallow hard while my heart races before I force out a weak "Y-yeah… thanks."

He studies the banner while his face becomes more and more stern. "Dylan? You support him?"

"N-no I'm-" But before I could explain anything, there was a minor pick up of the crowd.

All eyes on us as the massive kiss cam screen locks in on the handsome stranger holding me, as if we're some lovers caught in the moment.

The man next to me stiffens while he moves away from me, and his lips form a shape that suggests he wants to deny the situation by giving an explanation about our relationship status.

But something reckless surges through me.

The image of Dylan kissing that woman blazes behind my eyes.

And then it clicks—he's probably seeing this at the backstage, right now.

Before the stranger can speak, a sudden wild impulse takes over my body.

I reach up, cup his face, and lean in.

My lips find his, silencing whatever words he might have said.