With You

03. Sebby? Bash? Bastian?

He was there again the next day. Reading another stupid book at the edge of the soccer field.

I mean, seriously. Who even reads books anymore? And who read them before sunset at a soccer field? It was stupid. He was stupid.

Rowan was his name. After he'd insulted me, a complete stranger, to my face yesterday, I'd spent the next ten minutes ranting to Flora.

Flora knew him, just as she knew everyone, except he was different. Apparently, everyone knew who he was. Rowan Baines. The mysterious bad boy who didn't talk to anyone.

I huffed. Of course, he didn't. He was just too good for anyone else, wasn't he? Arrogant prick.

Somehow, it pissed me off that everyone knew who he was. It definitely didn't help that he was attractive. Objectively. High cheekbones, smooth skin, dark eyes.

Except, I was hotter. And I was a soccer player. People should know who I am.

Whatever.

I wasn't going to let stupid, arrogant Rowan Baines ruin my morning training.

I lined the ball up with the goal posts. The rest of the team would arrive any minute now, and I'd barely gotten any free kicks in.

Ever since Flora had told me about my flaw in technique, I'd been set on working on it. Until I saw stupid, arrogant Rowan Baines sitting there, with his stupid, pretentious book in his hands. He hadn't even looked up when I'd arrived, but I knew that he knew I was here.

He was probably getting off at the thought that I was staring at him again. Except I wasn't, I reminded myself quickly. No. I was here to play soccer.

Because this was a soccer field.

Someone needed to remind him of that.

I snorted at the idea and before I could think about it, I kicked the ball, as hard as it could go. Instead of barrelling towards the goal, it missed by an inch and pounded into the wall beside Rowan head, bouncing off the bricks to roll onto the concrete, next to his leg.

He startled, his back hitting the wall and book falling onto the ground. His eyes went from the ball to me and I smirked.

How did he like it?

"Sorry!" I shouted, though I couldn't suppress my grin. "Can you throw it back?"

He glowered. "You made me lose my page."

I stifled a laugh, stepping closer and shrugging. "Sorry. This is a soccer field, you know. Maybe you should read at the library or something."

The unspoken insult tagged onto the end of it. Nerd.

He ignored me, picking his book up from the ground and dusting it off, flicking through the pages in search of his chapter. Oh, he wasn't going to ignore me so easily. I nodded towards the ball.

"Hey. Pass it back, yeah?"

He lowered his book to meet my eyes, then smiled sourly. "You're the one who put it there. What, so bad at soccer you couldn't find the goal? No wonder your coach never puts you on the field."

My grin fell.

"Excuse me?" I spat, stepping closer.

He was the one smirking now. Slowly, he flipped the page on his book, pretending as if I wasn't there. His eyes scanned the page, then he shrugged, taking his time as he said, "You do a great job at keeping that bench warm, though."