Wicked (Now Available on Amazon, Eden Books, Apple, B&N and Kobo!)

Chapter 14 ⚽️

Jacob

The day we were supposed to play the first quarter-final against Bressia Calcio, I woke up at six and prepared myself to train as usual. First of all, I put on my shorts, jersey and soccer boots while blasting my game-day playlist through the BlueTooth speaker. It consisted of just a couple of songs such as The Script's Hall of Fame and Skillet's Finish Line. I wasn't a music person like Ziad. He probably had ten songs on his playlist today, especially selected and set according to his mood in some specific order.

"Dude. Come on," I heard Ben whine loudly as he appeared in my bedroom doorway and scrunched up his face. "It's like six in the morning. On a freaking Saturday."

I smirked at him a little and walked over to look him straight in the eye and say, "Fucking Saturday. You can say 'fucking', Ben. Mommy's not going to hear you." He gave me a judgmental look so like my mother's and stalked off in the direction of the bathroom. I shook my head and turned the music down low, grinning to myself a little. Little brothers.

Before I woke anyone else up, I hurried downstairs and dished myself some cereal, gobbling it up in an uncultured manner which would really have made my mother give me a scathing look. Then I grabbed the spare keys to my dad's place and made my way over there, intending to get my game day lucky soccer ball from my room. It was a yellow and black one my father had bought for me the day Ferrata F.C had chosen me to be their goalie and I only used it whenever I had big matches to prepare for.

Soccer was my culture, my religion. Nothing made me as happy as going about my routine as though it were some sacred ritual. But sex came a close second nowadays. I smiled again as I walked over to the Batcave, thinking of all the hot, nasty sex I had been having with Giselle for the past six weeks. I fucked her almost every single day whenever I had a chance. There was no place, no position we hadn't explored together. I mean, it was pretty intense physically.

The only glitch had been her obsessive interest in Ziad to the point where she had basically accosted him in school after a game. I'd felt sorry for him and had gotten mad as hell at Giselle for forcing herself on him when he clearly wasn't interested. And then there had been the time when she had insisted we have sex in his room, on his bed. I hadn't wanted to but I'd been thinking with my dick that night, having just had the taste of sex for the first time in my teens and had given in to her demands.

It hadn't felt right. Aaliyah had seen us go upstairs and for some reason, that made me feel guilty. The guilt then led to anger because I didn't owe her anything. She seemed a little obsessed with me. At the Halloween party last weekend, she'd been looking at me like I put the motherfucking stars in the sky or something. It made me nauseous, like she had all these expectations from me when I just wanted an uncomplicated arrangement like the one I had with Giselle.

After unlocking the front door, I turned on the main lights in the living room because it was still so early and a cloudy morning at that. Good. I enjoyed playing in rainy weather. I relished the challenge. As I searched for my soccer ball under the bed, I frowned to myself thinking about Ziad. He was so distracted these days, so secretive and behaving out of character. It bugged me a lot but he didn't want to tell me a thing. I did understand the need to keep certain things to oneself but not when it was going to affect his performance during an important match. He had assured me he would give it his best tonight on the field but I had my doubts. He clearly wasn't in the right head space.

"Anything I can help you with?" a gruff voice sounded from behind me and I almost had a heart attack right there.

"Motherfucker," I cursed, falling flat on my ass on the floor where I'd been hunched over trying to get the ball out and stared up at my father.

He frowned at me, sucking on his bottom lip for a second before saying, "I don't think I appreciate your language right now."

My mouth was open as I took in his tall form, the fact that he was here in the house. He was here. My dad was here. I breathed out once, inhaled and then blew out another breath, trying to calm my racing heart and wondered why the hell I felt like crying.

"You're here," I said lamely, swallowing a little and blinking up at him.

He gave me a slight smile and nodded. "I'm here, Jacob," he murmured. "I have to leave again on Tuesday though. Now get up. We have a game to prepare for. Stop acting like a sissy."

He turned and walked away, giving me space to process. I didn't mind his words. The bond I had with him was so strong, the love so overwhelming, if he'd hugged me or some shit like that, I'd have ended up crying for sure and then, Zi wouldn't be the only one in the wrong head space. I couldn't afford to get emotional like that on game day until after I had won the match. It messed with my focus and my father was intuitive enough to realise that.

.......

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(Aaaa. Aali×Jasper make a good, chunky part of the book later and I am so fucking excited for it!! 😈😈😈 Yes, daddy. 😅😅😅 )