Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

MAX

"Aarons, take the shot!" Coach shouted, pissed off.

A frustrated groan left me as I watched my perfect pass make it to Derek's waiting foot and he missed the goal by mere inches, allowing the ball to fly into the stands. I should have taken the shot, but all my life, I was a team player and never someone who took unnecessary risks.

Halftime's whistle sounded, and wiping the sweat off my face, I moved toward the changing room.

"I'm sorry, man." Dex jogged up next to me and gave me his sad puppy eyes. "Not sure how I missed it."

"Me neither," I muttered. Being pissed at him wasn't going to win us the game. Hidden Hills was playing much better than we anticipated and their defense was air tight. It took me almost the full halftime to get the ball away from them and give it to Dex. He gambled away an easy shot.

Or rather, I made a mistake not taking the shot myself.

But I was a team player and if I could, I always passed the ball to the person who was meant to score.

I didn't look up at the stands, I didn't want to know if Ivy made it since her last text suggested she was running late. I didn't even understand why I cared if she was there or not. She was my fake girlfriend, it shouldn't have mattered. I was used to not having anyone watch my games, but the idea of Ivy being in the stands for me was exciting. Not that I would ever admit it to myself.

Guess losing with her watching would suck double time.

"Okay, guys," I said, my voice strong and confident despite my inner feelings conflicted. "We still have another forty-five minutes to turn this around. We are switching to 3-5-2 formation. Hudson, Liam, you will be able to assess the situation and see if you need to defend or attack. Maddox, Andrew, and I will have the opportunity to dominate any midfield battle and move the ball. Maverick, you need to step into our midfield battle while having enough defensive cover, and Dex and Marco, you better link up and not stay isolated."

"We haven't really practiced this," Marco muttered, concern shining in his green eyes.

I nodded. This formation required heavy coaching, otherwise if our midfield is breached, we were fucked, and defending a wider position was tough too.

"Why don't you switch with Oliver?" I glanced at my other teammate who was an attacking midfielder but could be used as a forward. "He can help you at the front. Can you guys do that?"

Oliver nodded, and after exchanging a look with Marco, he nodded as well.

"Great." I clapped, eager to get back on the field and destroy the other team. "Coach?"

"The idea is the right one… let's see if you can all keep your positions and do your god damned job," Coach Parker muttered, and I was expecting slightly more encouraging words, but I would take whatever at this point. At least he wasn't shouting.

"Titans on three," I called them around and placed my hand in the middle. They all piled their hands on top of mine as we formed a tight circle. "One… two… TITANS!"

The team jogged back to the stadium as I bumped my fist with Maddox and the two of us followed.

"We've got this," he muttered, his eyes on Coach Parker in front of us. "We never lost in a home game and we never will."

I doubted his words, but I forced myself to act confident. If I made the wrong call and messed up even more, I was going to go down in history as the worst captain of the Titans.

No pressure really.

Letting out a small exhale, I took my position opposite Maddox. Contrary to before, now we had two people between us, which meant our position was quite wide, making it challenging to defender.

I watched the opponents trying to shadow us, find whoever they were stuck on, but the new positioning threw them off a bit, which gave us the edge to snatch up the ball, moving it between the five of us in the midfield.

My eyes were glued to the ball, not leaving it for a nanosecond in order to not miss out on anything. The next forty-five minutes were make or break. There was no room for error from our side.

We made pass after pass, moving the ball as a unified team while time ticked away like the most annoying countdown.

The Titans had higher possession percentage of the ball, but when it mattered the most, we lost it.

And that's how the score suddenly jumped to 1-0 to Hidden Hills. No matter how much I pushed my body, I couldn't catch up to the ball as they easily moved past our defense, snatched the ball, and moved it all the way up to the goal line and scored.

I let out a frustrated groan, my fingers threading through my hair and I pulled on it.

"Max," Maddox muttered, elbowing me. "Focus."

He was right, I wasn't focused. Not since the back of my mind was occupied with a certain blonde who drove me crazy. I wanted to know if she was wearing my jersey, but I didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Losing wasn't how I wanted to start off her experience in watching me play.

Not that I should have cared about it, she wasn't mine, not for real. Yet, the throbbing ache in my dick reminded me how good it felt being close to her and wondered how it would feel kissing her senseless or diving into her.

With another muffled groan, I twisted my upper body, catching a glimpse of Ivy on the stands. Her blonde hair was braided in two long braids and my jersey that should have hidden her slim and sexy body was tied around her waist, exposing a teasing line of tanned skin above her jeans.

I swallowed hard as my eyes connected with her emerald ones.

She slowly pulled her beautiful pink full lips into a smile and silent words passed between us.

Words of encouragement.

Words of hope.

Words of good luck.

I needed them all, because I was losing all hope in myself that I could get this done.

I let out a long breath, and without even a smile, I turned back toward the field.

"Let's go," I muttered to Maddox and jogged back into position.

There was still fifteen minutes left of the game and I had to prove it to everyone the Titans were winners and not losers. Never losers. Not under my captainship.

I moved through the motion with newfound energy. Moved past the opponent players with ease as I snatched the ball up from the enemy midfielder.

Playing the ball between my feet, I moved toward their goals and focused on the clear path in front of me.

This time, I didn't look for Derek.

This time, I didn't slow down looking for anyone else on our team.

This time, I relied and believed in myself.

I picked my target and sent the ball flying quicker than anyone could anticipate it.

The ball flew in one straight line, landing in the left corner, missing the goalie's hand by mere inches.

Suddenly, my teammates collided with me and jumped on top of me, their happy shouts echoing in my ear.

It wasn't a win, but at least we didn't lose.

A tie was better than losing.

Hell, anything was better than losing.

Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I should have taken the first chance I got to score. Then we would be winners.

"Hey, Captain." Ivy knocked on my bedroom door and walked in before I could reply. "Why the sour face? You played well."

Her green eyes glimmered with concern as she took me in, while I drank in her outfit and had to swallow hard when I noticed that she wasn't wearing jeans. She was wearing jean shorts that molded onto her hips and ass like a second skin. She was wearing a jersey with my name on it.

The sigh of her in my jersey, my name and my number made the ache in my chest deepen, but I quickly reminded myself it wasn't mine . Just like she wasn't mine .

"Did I take the post too far?" she asked, concern lacing her words as she lifted her phone.

I shook my head again. Her post of the team jumping on me and hugging me, and the picture of me shooting the goal shot were amazing. Her sweet caption praising my talent was heartwarming.

But nothing eased the disappointment brewing in my chest.

I let the team down. My team. The one I was responsible of.

"Max?" Ivy asked, stepping closer.

"Sorry," I groaned. "I wasn't in the mood to party."

"You guys tied, it was a great game," she tried again, her voice thinner than before. "You played well."

I looked up at her, and whatever she saw in my tortured gaze made her close the distance between us.

"You're too hard on yourself," she whispered, her hand landing on my shoulder.

The weight of her hand got me curving my shoulders inwards, and I let my head hang again.

"You don't get it," I muttered. "I should have shot the first goal instead of giving it to Derek. I made a bad decision and it cost us the win."

"Titans lose as a team and win as a team," she reminded me, and I let out a tortuous laugh.

"Yeah, that doesn't mean I can't give myself feedback."

"You are beating yourself up," she said, her voice suddenly harder. "Everyone makes mistakes, it's what makes us human. You made the best decision you could with the limited information you've got on the field. You placed your trust in your teammate. It doesn't make you a bad leader, Max. Not even a failure. It makes you a team player."

I let out a shaky breath, emotions running high in me since the game. I was a perfectionist, and I held myself to an impossible standard.

Today, I messed up.

"I'm just… hard on myself," I muttered the lamest excuse. "Sorry… you probably want to party. Let me get my shit together, and I'll meet you downstairs."

Ivy sat beside me on the bed. "If you don't want to party, we can stay here. Watch a movie. You don't seem in the mood to talk."

A shake of my head was the only response I gave her before I picked up the remote control and handed it to her. "You pick."

I moved all the way up on my bed, propping the pillows up for both of us and leaned against it. I was still wearing my faded blue jeans and a Titan's hoodie that I threw on after showering earlier.

Ivy followed my initiative and positioned herself next to me, her gaze fixed on the TV.

My eyes took a lazy route, watching her long legs extend on my bed as she wrapped her arm around her exposed midriff. Tiny goosebumps dotted her skin, and I immediately slipped out of my hoodie and offered it to her.

"You seem cold, take it."

Ivy's hand paused for a split second as she reached for it.

"I'm boiling up," I said, which was true. Being this close to her, plus the anger simmering in me did help me run hot. "You look like you need it."

"Thank you," she said, but I had a feeling there was so much more she wanted to say. "I picked a comedy," she told me as she slipped into my hoodie, her face buried into the soft material for a second before her head popped up, her braids intact. My hoodie covered her up and she even pulled her legs, slipping them under it.

The sight of her wearing my clothes eased some of the tension in my chest and flooded me with warmth.

I wondered if I sweated in it or if it still smelled like my soap and perfume. I wondered if she liked the smell.

From that moment, I forgot about the game, and Ivy occupied my thoughts.