Binding 13

Breathing hard, he lifted the hem of his jersey and used the fabric to wipe the blood from his brow, dismantling the poor woman's attempts at patching him up, and revealing a stomach of hard abs.

The move was so primal, so decidedly male, that it hit me straight in the chest.

My face began to flame and I felt my shoulders sag as I buckled under the weight of his intense gaze.

"What the hell is that?" Claire hissed excitedly, gripping my hand. "Joh

"Crap." Unsure of what to do, but knowing that I needed to do something, I turned my face into Claire's neck and hissed, "Hide me."

"What?" she squeaked.

"Just tell me when he's gone, okay?" I begged, focusing my attention on the freckle on her neck. "Pretend you're talking to me or something."

Less than a minute later, Claire said, "Okay, he's gone."

Blowing out a breath, I turned back in time to watch Joh

"What's going on with you two?" she demanded. "I thought you said you haven't spoken to him since that day in the office?"

"Nothing is going on with us," I shot back, cheeks burning. "And I haven't."

Claire gave me a disbelieving look. "Well, that look he just gave you didn’t seem like nothing to me."

"It was nothing," I assured her – and myself. "Seriously, Claire, I don’t even know the guy –"

Loud booing and jeering erupted around us then, and we both turned to see Kilbeg's number 15 had scored a try.

Their number 10 converted easily, bringing the teams level.

"Oh crap," I muttered, feeling far more anxious than I should. "How much time is left?"

"About a minute and a half, and don't think we're not talking about this later," Claire told me before turning her attention back to the game and screaming, "Come on Tommen! Woo! Kilbeg – you're total shit!"

Kilbeg won the restart, gaining possession of the ball and gaining several yards.

They all looked completely exhausted with the exception of Speedy Gonzalez – aka Joh

My palms began to sweat profusely when Kilbeg's number 10 moved into position between the posts, falling into range for a drop kick at goal.

They were at nineteen phases and the score was tied up at 20 points apiece – at least that's what Claire said.

"This is it," Claire kept screeching. "This is it. This is it. Oh god. I can't look."

I held my breath, unable to cope with the anticipation.

Finally, Kilbeg's number 9 positioned himself at the ruck – the word I had learned for the big pile up on the grass.

With the ball in his hands, he threw a pass back to their number 10.

My heart stopped.

The supporters in the stands around me all went quiet.

Miss it.

Miss it.

Fuck it up.

Go wide.

All of my prayers were answered when the ball left his boot and was blocked down by Joh

The clock ran down, falling into the red.

"Yes!" Claire screamed, jumping to her feet, along with every other supporter on the sidelines. "Go on, Joh

Unable to breathe, I watched as three Kilbeg backs hunted after him.

They weren't fast enough, though.

Like a bolt of lightning, Joh

Cheers and screams and roars of encouragement erupted from the stand when Joh

"Go on!" Claire roared excitedly. "Yes! You're almost there. Keep going. Move those sexy legs!"

The ball rolled over the line.

Milliseconds later, Joh

It was a blur of movements that resulted in Joh

Everyone around us went insane.

Tommen's number 10 moved into position in front of the posts and quickly kicked the conversion over, securing the two points.

And that was it.

It was over.

Tommen had won.

And I was reeling.

"You have some explaining to do, missy," Claire squealed as she bounced up and down in celebration. "Woohoo! Go Tommen, go!"

"Explaining?" I called back. "About what?"

"About why that boy down there is looking at you like he wants to eat you up," she replied, and then pointed a blatantly obvious finger right at Joh

"I don’t know," I choked out. "I have no idea what's happening here."

All of his teammates were ru

He was quite literally swamped by people, ranging from teachers to students to local journalists and cameramen with microphones thrust in his face.

The thing that stood out was his immaculate composure.

None of this was fazing him.

Not one bit.

He looked the epitome of cool, calm, and collected as he answered reporters and thanked the supporters clapping his shoulders, but every few moments, his gaze flickered back to me.

I didn’t understand it.

Worse, having his attention thrilled me.

"Why are they flocking him?" I asked in confusion, feeling bad for the other guys on the team.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Ah, because he's Joh