Soccer ~★ bxb romance novel ★~

Chapter 14 ~ Max's POV

Max

The night sky glittered through the windows of the venue. I popped the top two buttons of my dress shirt as the speeches took place. Sammy and Jenna, Ken and his date Michael and I all danced together in between courses. I took a break from the dance floor to glide around thanking my teammates for a great year. I saw Asher and Reece with their dates, and shook their hands, thanking them too, for a great match in the finals. I managed to avoid seeing James.

My loneliness set in when I looked around, taking a sip of my punch, that everyone had a date. James would have been here with me tonight. I had fun, but Sammy and Ken had people with them and I didn't want to intrude. I danced, swaying my hips to the music by myself, and spotted James Kendrick, also alone, in the sea of people.

It was deep into the semi-formal, after an upbeat pop song, that the DJ switched to a slow song for the slow dances. Sammy and Ken took their dates in their arms, held them close. I looked away when they kissed because it was hard to watch people so happy. I slowly backed away from the dance floor to the back of the room, looking out at the view and then back at the dance floor, the coloured lights making the scene all the more beautiful than it already was.

I felt the presence of another person nearby in the shadows. My heart-beat quickened far too fast when I realised who it was.

I didn't expect him to move closer and speak but he did. I didn't expect to be so enchanted by his voice and the dip in his Adam's apple when he spoke, and the smell of his expensive cologne, but I was. I didn't expect to find myself watching his lips as he bit them subconsciously, or his muscular hands as he held himself steady against the wall, but I was.

"Where's your date?" He asks, a shard of ice to his tone, deciding a hello is overrated for us.

"I never had a date..." I leave it at that.

"Why not?"

I don't answer and he keeps x-raying me with his eyes, which show me how he sees me now in the reflection: timid, reserved, tense.

"And how come you're alone tonight?" I ask, although I doubt I'll get a response. He surprises me.

"Bringing him as a date would have been unprofessional,"

I nearly break my composure and laugh, even though I know I'm the joke he's spinning.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I say, because he won't stop cutting his eyes to my neck and I'm about to collapse.

"I'll go with you," He starts "unless you don't want me to-"

I almost object, because I need to breathe and his presence makes that simple task so difficult. But I'm masochistic and say it's fine. Because I'll destroy the walls I've built up to protect myself, because I want this guy with me, and I want him bad.

I watch him through the mirror as I leave the stall. I'm glad he doesn't see me looking, but then he looks up and our eyes meet. I lose my dignity and trail my eyes over every movement he makes. I lick my lips and feel the muscles in my stomach tie themselves in a knot. I turn and lean my lower back against the bench top. My mind searches for all the things I can do, alone with James, just us two in this bathroom. And all the things I could not do. I could walk out like nothing has ever happened and we're strangers to each other. I could pretend that my adolescent wet dream isn't in this empty, candle-lit bathroom with me and that he isn't looking at my belt like he's planning how to remove it. I could pretend that I don't want him. Or I could not pretend.

My decision is made.

"James." I call.

I've said the name so many times, I've shouted it, whispered it, breathed it; but the syllables sound entirely different on my tongue as I taste them for the first time in a while.