Page 82 of Studs Up
I didn’t know what to do with the feeling of hurt it caused. This was still new. Despite the intensity of this, whatever this was, we had spent years hating each other. He couldn’t be expected to give up all his secrets just because we fucked.
It was more than that, though. It had to be. These emotions that came with being around him weren’t casual or simple. They were complex and undeniable. I knew he felt the pull toward me as strongly as I felt the pull toward him.
The hate was a placeholder until he kissed me and unlocked the truth that had resided inside me since the moment we met. Whatever he was still keeping from me was his business. All I could do was wait until that trust was strong enough.
The game against Colorado was the perfect place to exercise all my frustration.
Ennis still wasn’t over our last battle, and neither was I. The bruise on my side was a faint green now and was still sore enough to be reminded of his takedown of Holden.
So when we clashed again, I gave it right back.
Ennis posted up behind me in the first corner of the game in Colorado’s half. He fisted my jersey, and I pushed back into him. Corners were the only places we met on the field, and I was going to make sure I used every clash to put him in his place.
“Saw your mom last night,” he hissed in my ear. “She was a nice fucking ride.”
I laughed.
“My mom would kick your ass and make you her bitch.”
He shoved me as Quinn sent the ball into the middle of the eighteen. Thanks to the push, I was in the perfect spot to head the ball into the net.
I sprinted up to the camera, held my hand to my ear like a phone, and held up three fingers. I imagined Holden’s eye roll.
I don’t usually get goals as a central defender, so three was a pretty big deal.
Ennis took deep offense, and we clashed again on a corner in front of my goal. Ennis attempted to block Diaz’s view of the kick, and I used my body to push him off the line.
“I’m gonna embarrass the fuck out of you,” I hissed in his ear.
“You wish,” he growled back. Ennis was already stirred up, and it wouldn’t be that hard for a short tempered guy to detonate.
Cruz won the header and lobbed the ball out of the eighteen. I screamed at the back line to move up the field, but their mid sent the ball back in right to Ennis. I was not going to give him a fucking inch.
He let his elbows fly, trying to ‘casually’ catch me in the chin. I hip checked him, and he went down like a sack of soggy potatoes. Taking control of the ball, I sent it up the line to Quinn.
“You wanna do this?” Ennis was beat red with rage as he sprang up from the ground.
“All fucking day,” I snapped back and opened my arms, inviting him to make a fool of himself. He charged, and I backed away. He took down Holden, and this was how I would make him pay. Ennis grabbed my jersey and shoved me. I didn’t lay a hand on him as he grabbed my neck. It was a brief touch, but it was enough. He realized as soon as he did it he was screwed.
“I’m gonna fuck you up,” he shouted.
“I’m out of your league,” I roared back. The ref was frantically blowing his whistle, and hands and arms were getting between us and pulling us apart.
Fuck you, Ennis. If he ever touched Holden again, I would pummel him.
I shut my mouth as Ennis ran his, shouting profanities and accusations. The ref didn’t buy it and drew his red card.
Ennis put on an excellent show. Acting as if it was the most ridiculous thing to be red carded for putting his hands on my neck. The ref sent him off with a finger to the tunnel. An assistant coach had to come and escorte him off while he screamed that it wasn’t his fault and I deserved a red too. What a whiny asshole.
After that, we scored two more. I had made a permanent enemy out of Ennis, and that was fine. I could handle him, and the rest of my players could do their job without having him in the back of their minds.
Because of the red card, I had the unexpected consequence of having to do a post game interview. Alice stood next to me and glared at me until I answered all their questions without swearing, like a good boy.
We got back to the hotel, and Diaz slipped out to hook up with a woman he’d met on one of those dating apps.
I had zero issues because I got to have privacy to call Holden.
“Did you have to do that?” He answered.
