Once the club finally settled down, we met at The Old Millers Pub, tucked beside the hotel where the miller once lived. I pushed open the heavy oak door, its glass-in-lead Mill display catching the light, and was immediately greeted by the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and creaking floorboards.

The scent of oak, leather, and a smoky hearth lingered beneath ornate chandeliers, casting an ember glow over the timeless room.

I climbed the spiral staircase, passing brick walls lined with Eldermoor memorabilia, until I reached the mezzanine.

I was the first to arrive, taking the seat at the end of the table and leaning back against cracked leather. Emma followed with ginger-spiced cider. Markus and Jay squeezed in beside me soon after, and one by one the others filled the booth.

Freya slid closer to make room for Leo, her coconut body butter exotic against the pub’s atmosphere, glowing softly under candlelight. I couldn’t help myself—I breathed it in, pulled back to a time when she left that same scent lingering in my sheets.

“So, Leo,” Kaiden said from across the table, swirling his mug, “I heard about your training camps. Impressive.”

“Kids get to train with professional coaches,” Leo replied, pride flickering in his eyes.

Over the past three years, those training weekends had expanded—held in the fall and spring when kids had two weeks off. I always cleared my schedule to help, as we all did. It wasn’t about recognition. It was about giving back our love for the game.

“Ever thought of building on that?” I asked, sipping my cider.

Leo narrowed his eyes, staring into his mug.
“What if we did more than a training weekend?” he said slowly. “What if we created something that changed how the next generation sees soccer—a full week they’d remember forever?”

Excitement left me momentarily speechless.

I could already see it—Eldermoor reborn, kids running through the fields, laughter cutting through early mornings.

“That’s amazing,” I said, my grin impossible to hide.

“How can we help?” Freya asked, matching my excitement.

Leo laid out his vision—opening it to Eldermoor and teams from other countries. A once-in-a-lifetime experience for players and volunteers alike.

“I can build the website and run the socials,” Gemma offered. Freelancing in ICT made it a perfect fit.

I chimed in without thinking. “The Sports Clinic can provide first aid—and I could host a seminar on injury prevention.”

Only after the words left me did I realize how much I meant them.

Leo’s expression shifted from shy to overwhelmed as everyone stepped up.

Freya brushed a lock of hair aside, accidentally grazing my cheek. I froze, wanting more. I noticed Kaiden pause, watching us, then drain his mug.

“Our bakery will help with bread,” Freya added, composed again. “And if there’s anything else I can do, just ask.”

As the evening wore on and conversations softened, Freya squeezed my thigh beneath the table, offering a smile full of promise as she stood.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Kaiden watching—his mug frozen halfway to his lips, eyes narrowing slightly as he tracked the space between us. He exhaled slowly, jaw flexing, then finished his drink.

Ashley and Gemma gathered their jackets, laughter trailing toward the door.

Emma untied her apron, running a tired hand through her hair.
“I need to head home—the baby doesn’t sleep during working hours.” She paused at the door. “You boys can finish the tab. Just be nice enough to replace it.”

With most of the group gone, the mood shifted—looser, conspiratorial.

Markus cleared his throat, sheepish grin in place.
“Alright… confession. Gemma and I have been hooking up.”

The table went quiet—then Jay burst out laughing.
“No way. How’d that go?”

Markus rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s just say her tongue piercing caught me off guard. Crashed straight into my teeth.”

He lifted his lip to show the damage.

The laughter was merciless.

“Dude,” Leo teased, “she probably came on to you.”

Markus only shrugged, grinning.

When the teasing died down, Jay nudged Kaiden.
“Alright, your turn. What’s your type? Any action since you arrived?”

Kaiden glanced at me—then at Freya’s empty seat.
“Forget that,” he said casually. “What I want to know is the deal between Nate and Freya.”

The guys exchanged looks.

Leo leaned in. “On and off for two years. He really messed it up last season.” He refilled his glass. “Normally they’d be back together in a week… but it’s been longer than he expected.”

Their laughter faded.

My cheeks burned, but I smirked anyway. The less they knew, the better.

“I’m heading home,” I said, grabbing my jacket.

I stepped out into the cold, their muffled laughter fading behind me.

Walking through town at night calmed me. The sky was obsidian, stars blazing so brightly the streetlights felt unnecessary.

A brisk wind cut through me. I shoved my hands into my pockets, savoring the warmth as it crept back into my fingers.

My smartwatch lit up.

Freya: I can’t sleep. Are you home?

I voice-typed my reply and hurried back.

My apartment greeted me—plain, functional. I washed up, fixed my hair, brushed my teeth, added a splash of cologne.

The bell rang three times.

I opened the door grinning—until Freya pressed two fingers to my lips.

“Let’s not talk,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

Later, we lay tangled in my bed—her leg hooked over my waist, her fingers tracing my jaw.

“It’s nice,” she murmured. “Just the two of us.”

I smirked. “Feels like none of us have lives anymore.”

She smiled softly. “I like it. Back in the city, friendships were shallow.”

Her eyes gleamed.
“Guess what? I know something you don’t.”

I leaned in. “If it’s Gemma nearly knocking Markus’ teeth out—”

She burst out laughing, then went quiet.

Warmth faded. Reality crept back in.

My hand slid into her hair, doubt curling tight in my chest.
“Freya… what are we?”

Her hand fell away.

“I don’t know.”

The distance cut sharper than any argument.

“This not knowing,” I said quietly, “it’s wearing me down.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she whispered, tears shining. “This in-between is all I can manage.”

She kissed me—trembling, honest.

I swallowed hard.

“I can try,” I breathed, pulling her close, kissing her like I’d been holding my breath for weeks.

And I didn’t stop. Not now. 

My hands slid beneath her lower back, lifting her toward me as my mouth left hers, trailing down her neck. I dragged my tongue slowly across her collarbone, feeling her arch up in response.

Her fingers slipped under the pillow, searching for something to hold on to as I moved lower, my lips tasting every inch of her skin.

When I glanced up, my mouth against the soft curve of her chest, her head was tilted back, lips parted.

“Oh, Nate…” she moaned, her hands flying into my hair, gripping tight, holding me exactly where she wanted me. Her voice filled the room, shaking whatever control I had left.

I couldn’t stay there — I wanted more, needed more.

Gently, I caught her wrists and guided her hands above her head, pinning them softly against the sheets. Her eyes met mine, glazed with want.

“Let me take care of you,” I whispered.

She lifted her chin, reaching up for a kiss.
“Then don’t stop.”

As if I ever could.