The afternoon was hot, sun heavy and pouring down like molten gold over the school field. Elena wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, catching her breath at the edge of the soccer pitch. PE class at Westbridge was nothing like what she was used to at St. Claire's. Here, the coach pushed them, made them run and sweat and play until they felt they would die.
The boys had been divided into two teams for soccer, while the girls had been shunted off to the other side of the field for basketball drills. But Elena had found herself sneaking glances over at the soccer match. Her gaze strayed to him, time and time again, despite her best efforts not to.
Liam was at the center of the field, shirt plastered to his back, his hair sticky against his forehead. He moved with speed and grace, cutting through defenders with an ease that set him apart from the rest of the class. His long legs carrying him like he was in charge of the game, and each time his foot connected with the ball, the sound echoed out across the field.
She was not the only one watching him. Girls whispered around Elena, giggling each time he ran past her. "Liam's so rough but he looks so good when he plays," one of them said. "He doesn't even try, and still he's better than the rest of them," another added.
Elena clenched her teeth, feeling her chest ache. She hated hearing them. She wanted to scream, to tell them that he was hers, that they had kissed, that he was not just some boy for them to admire from a distance. But she kept quiet, biting her lip and waiting, waiting for a moment he might look her way.
And he did.
In the middle of the game, Liam looked up. The ball still at his feet, he had been running, when his eyes caught hers across the field. For a second he forgot everything but her. Elena's cheeks flushed under his gaze. Someone shouted his name, and he reacted, jerking his head back and kicking the ball with enough force that it shot past the goalie and into the goal. The boys cheered, but even then his eyes held her, like she was the only one in the whole world.
Finally the whistle blew. The game was over. Everyone slunk over to the benches. Elena reached for her water bottle, trying to cool her burning cheeks with it. She had not even been playing soccer, and yet her heart was still pounding in her chest as if she had been.
The coach shouted for everyone to stretch before he left. The class started to disperse, groups forming, voices drifting over the grass. Elena bent down to tie her shoe when she felt someone's shadow darken over her.
"You're staring too much."
His voice was low, almost playful. She looked up and saw Liam standing over her, his chest heaving with exertion, his shirt dark with sweat. He was holding his water bottle loosely in one hand, his eyes pinning her to the spot.
"I wasn't." She said quickly, though her cheeks flamed at his words.
"Yes, you were." He crouched down in front of her, so close that she could feel the faint salt of his sweat against the fresh air. His voice dropped lower. "I don't like them noticing you looking."
She blinked up at him, surprised. "You mean the girls?"
He shook his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. "They look at me, but I don't care about them. I care about you looking when they are."
She swallowed. His words stung, but there was something raw beneath them.Possession, quiet and smoldering. He leaned in to her, head tilted so that the world around them was lost, just the two of them in the waning afternoon sun.
"Liam…" she said, not sure if she was warning him or telling him to continue.
His eyes flicked down to her lips. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if some dam had broken inside him, he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was not gentle, not like the first time, unsure. His mouth pressed to hers firmly, almost desperately, as if he had been holding back too long. Elena's hands shook before she raised them, clutching at his sweat-damp shirt. His kiss tasted of heat and exertion, of the game still lingering on his skin.
She felt dizzy. This was the boy she had chased away, the boy she had stolen into a new life, the boy she had promised to keep as much as she could. And now he was kissing her out in the open, not caring if anyone saw him, not caring about anything but this.
When he pulled away, his breathing was ragged. His forehead pressed to hers, sweat mingling with her own. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them.
"You drive me crazy," he said, voice low and rough. "Every time you stand there, every time someone looks at you. I can't stop it."
Her lips parted, but no words came. She was too full, too fast. She wanted to tell him she felt the same, that she had wanted this, this kiss, since the moment she had first laid eyes on him. But all she could do was give a small, shaky laugh.
"You shouldn't kiss me like that in school," she whispered.
He smirked, but it did not reach his eyes. "Then don't look at me like I belong to you. Because if you keep doing that, I won't care where we are."
Her knees buckled at his words, though she was sitting.It was an accusation, sharp and cutting, and it left her breathless.
A whistle blew somewhere in the distance, and the voices of classmates drew near. They had to move, to act like normal. Liam pulled away slowly, his hand brushing hers as he stood. The contact lingered like a promise, like a warning, both at once.
Elena quickly tied her shoe, her cheeks still burning. Nobody around them seemed to have noticed, though she caught one girl in the corner of her eye who was giving her a sidelong glance of suspicion. She forced herself to stand, acting like nothing had happened, though her lips still buzzed from his touch.
As they walked away from the field, Liam stayed close to her side. Not touching, not saying anything, but she felt his presence around her like a shield. His quiet protectiveness was there, stronger now than ever. And even though she knew whispers would follow them, she would not regret it.
Because in that kiss, she had felt all the things he would never say aloud.
And she knew she was not letting him go.