Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 41 - Chapitre 50

Ashford "It's just one game, Pierce, and it's not even the whole game. We have half time to restrategize." Cole places a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I have to stop myself from wincing. The problem is, it is really just one game, but I don't know what caused me to slack too. What am I thinking of that's so consuming that I can't get my head in the game? Shit. Pierce gives me a softer look, probably feeling bad that he might have overreacted. I know a lot of big business men, and multimillionaire dollar conglomerates are getting on me. Soccer isn't just the game or the fans. They're also people who put a lot of money into it. And I can't even begin to imagine the amount of money riding on me, money that would definitely come out of somewhere if I fail them. It doesn't matter that I didn't ask these men to place gambles on me. Wealthy men like these never care. The world is theirs, so they can do as they please, and right now, my game is just one of the things they own

Christian The man in front of me is small, blonde and beautiful, but small is the first word I think of. The way he hunches his shoulders and refuses to meet my eyes. Clearly, he's uncomfortable in my presence, but he's also hell-bent on staying in my presence. What the hell is up with him? When Nate pulled me out of my fussing teammate hold to take me somewhere else, I'd been grateful. Happy even, because I really didn't like standing there, in the middle of their half time, while I was placed on bench duty. I hadn't even wanted to come if it wasn't for Soph, who is probably seated somewhere in the stadium, munching on a snack and ogling hot soccer players. If I knew Nate was going to bring me to Ashford, I would have refused right then and there. But the thing is, it was impossible to know. Hell, I didn't even know Nate knew Ashford. Just how the hell did they meet? 'I wanted to see you' Those words have my pants feeling a little tighter, and the back of my ears burning.

Christian The way the words roll off his lips like they're nothing hit me even harder than the words themselves. I stare at the boy with wide eyes, his own wider than mine, and take up a blown-out look. I don't need to look down at his soccer shorts to know he's spotting a nice tent there A tent from thinking about blowing me. God, he's such a fucking slag. I swear I've never met anyone more cock starved than he is. I should say no. Of course, I will. I'll even laugh in his face once I've rejected him for the umpteenth time. It's not my fault he's so desperate for cock, he's practically and literally begging right now for mine. If I let myself think about it, I'll get too in my head, because to be fair, I've never given the guy the impression that doing something like this would fly by me. If anything, I've always made it clear how much I detest him. Of course, it doesn't matter that he doesn't know why I don't like him so much, but he knows Mt feelings about him. So why

. Ashford "What? Don't like hearing the truth from the mouth of some faggot? Or are you the only one that can say shit?" I spit out at him. Despite the glazed look I'm sure I'm giving him, and the fact that I think I might evaporate into the air if he doesn't let me get off, I'm enraged at him. Who does he think he is to call me slurs like it's nothing?Has he really learned nothing too? After everything with the glare and the massive proportion of mess, it ended up as he's still walking around with a head held up high, and a fucking stiff back. I wish he wasn't so much more bigger than me, I would have sucker punched him in the face first. Except right now, punching him is the last thing I want to do. "You're not saying any truth. Don't delude yourself all because your brain is connected to your tiny dick." He returns with feeling. A shocked gasp tears out of me. Does he rea

Christian Even though I'm hundred percent sure I just heard my name, I can't believe it. Maybe it's because I'm still standing in a toilet stall, worrying myself over whether or not Ashford Ryder is a tattle tale. "Is that you? Christian Thompson?" The person calls out again, sounding a little unsure. I half contemplate ignoring them, or flat out lying that I'm not the one, but then I'm a little curious too. The voice doesn't ring any bells in my head, but sure as hell, that person definitely knows who I am. Who could it be? "Who is that?" I ask, pretending to adjust my pants, while seriously hoping I'm not still sprouting any evidence of what I've just done. Before the person can answer, I push the toilet stall door open, and come face to face with a man I've never seen before. My eyes grow slightly wide, and I glance around the rest of the stall space, trying to check if someone else might have called me, and not this absolute stranger. But the man in front of me flashes a