Chapter 94 : Stop Acting Like We Are Dating.
STEPHEN’S POV
Losing didn’t sit right with me. It wasn’t just the scoreline or the way the final whistle had cut through the field like a blade, ending any chance of fixing what went wrong. It was everything that came before it, the hesitation, the missed opportunities, the tension that had been building long before we even stepped onto the pitch.
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair as I stood just off the field, the noise of the crowd fading into something distant and unimportant. Around me, people were still talking—teammates replaying moments, the coach giving sharp feedback—but I barely registered any of it.
“Stephen.”
I turned at the sound of my name.
It was the scouts. There were three of them, standing a few feet away, watching me with an intensity that made it clear this wasn’t casual. One of them stepped forward slightly, offering a polite but measured smile.
“You played well today.”
I nodded once. “Not well enough.”
“That’s not how we see it,” another one said. “You controlled the field. Your awareness, your positioning—it stood out.”
I didn’t respond immediately. Compliments after a loss always felt… off.
The first scout exchanged a glance with the others before continuing. “We’ll be direct. We’re offering you a position.”
My brows pulled together slightly. “A position?”
“At Westbridge.”
The name hit instantly. It was a top-tier program, a bigger league, and more exposure. The kind of opportunity people spent years chasing.
My chest tightened in the weight of what that meant.
“That would require a transfer,” I said slowly.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “You will join next semester with a full placement. You would be playing at a much higher level.”
Higher level with better competition, scouts, and future.
Everything I’d been working toward.
“We don’t make offers like this lightly,” the third scout added. “You have potential. Real potential. But we need a decision quickly.”
“How quickly?”
“Three days.”
That made me pause. “Three?” I repeated.
“If we don’t hear from you by then, we move on,” the first one said simply. “We can’t hold the position indefinitely.”
Three days to decide whether I was ready to walk away from everything here.
I swallowed, forcing my expression to stay neutral. “I understand.”
“We’ll send you the details,” he said, offering a small nod. “Think about it carefully.”
I nodded once more, and then they were gone, moving on like they hadn’t just dropped something that could change my entire life in under two minutes.
For a second, I just stood there.
My gaze drifted back to the field instinctively, like it might ground me somehow.
It didn’t because Hayden wasn’t there anymore.
Of course, he wasn’t.
I clenched my jaw slightly, the earlier frustration creeping back in.
He had walked off before the game even fully settled. He didn't stay or talk. He just… disappeared.
I pushed the thought down, turning away from the field entirely.
I needed to think.
But thinking wasn’t easy when everything felt tangled.
By the time I got home, the sun had already dipped low, casting long shadows across the house.
But I didn’t expect noise. That was the first thing that threw me off.
There was laughter. It was faint, but unmistakable.
My brows pulled together as I stepped inside, closing the door behind me quietly.
The sound was coming from the kitchen. I moved toward it without really thinking, something in my chest tightening with each step and then I saw them.
It was Hayden and Ariana.
Her back was pressed against the counter, his hand at her waist, and….my stomach dropped. They were kissing.
It was not casual or something you could brush off or pretend didn’t mean anything.
It was intense and messy. Something in me snapped.
“Ariana.” My voice cut through the room sharper than I intended.
They broke apart instantly.
Her eyes widened, her hands dropping from his shirt as she stepped back. Hayden turned slower, like he already knew what he’d see when he faced me.
“What the hell is this?” I demanded.
Ariana looked between us, clearly caught off guard. “Stephen, I…”
“Out,” I said, my voice low and controlled in a way that made it worse. “Now.”
She hesitated. “Stephen…”
“I said out.”
Something in my expression must’ve convinced her because she didn’t argue again. She grabbed her bag quickly, shooting Hayden one last uncertain look before brushing past me and heading for the door.
The second it shut behind her, the silence turned heavy.
I turned back to Hayden slowly. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately. He just leaned back against the counter, arms crossing loosely as none of this mattered.
“What does it look like?” he shot back.
“It looks like you’ve completely lost your mind,” I snapped.
His jaw tightened slightly. “Oh, here we go.”
“No,” I cut in, stepping closer. “Don’t do that. Don’t brush this off like it’s nothing. You storm off after the game, disappear, and then I come home to this?”
“It’s not a crime, Stephen.”
“That is not the point.”
“Then what is?” he challenged, pushing off the counter now, his posture straightening. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re overreacting.”
I let out a sharp breath, trying and failing, to keep my temper in check. “You’re acting like a child,” I said flatly.
That hit.
I saw it in the way his expression shifted, irritation flashing across his face.
“A child?” he repeated. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” I said, not backing down. “Running off, throwing a tantrum, and then doing this like it’s going to fix anything.”
His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t throw a tantrum.”
“I heard you pushed and shoved people out of the way, Hayden.”
“At least I felt something,” he shot back. The words landed harder than they should have.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then he laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You know what? Forget it,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t even know why you care so much.”
My chest tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he said, his voice sharpening, “you don’t get to act as if this matters to you when it doesn’t.”
I stared at him. “It doesn’t matter?”
“No,” he said firmly. “It doesn’t.”
Something in my chest twisted, but I ignored it.
“Right,” I said quietly. “So this, us, means nothing to you?”
He held my gaze, completely unflinching. “You don’t love me, Stephen.” The words hit like a punch I didn’t see coming. “So stop acting like we’re dating.”