Loving Siblings: Aidan & Dionne (3 page)

“
It might as well be,” Shawn grumbled.
“Romero and Mendes are too good.”

“
Yeah Shawn, they’re good,” Aidan said
before he spat on the grass; his thick spittle bothering him. “But
like I said, it ain’t over till it’s over.”

Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back
of his hand, he narrowed his sharp eyes fringed with long black
lashes. He peered over at the two smiling and confident Brazilian
immigrants, and he could see they were all but certain they’d
already won. They were popping the black and white soccer ball on
ankles, passing it to one another, cleat to cleat, with acrobatic
ease.

“
I’m not going to lose this one,” he
said with a grim tone. 

“
We’ve only got ten minutes left.
Maybe a couple more added for injuries, and we’re down by one. We
need two, and it doesn’t look as if Marv and Stan can outrun the
Brazilians. I don’t know if even Ace Magic can save us this time,”
Shawn said pessimistically.

“
Yeah . . . that might be, but again,
it ain’t over—”

“—‘
til it’s over. Yeah, yeah. You said
that already.”

“
Let me make it crystal clear for you,
Shawn,” Aidan said with a determined set to his jaw. “I’m not going
home without that there trophy,” he said, nodding in the direction
of a blue pop-up gazebo where four judges sat in the shade behind a
table where the three-foot high gold-plated trophy stood. “I don’t
like odd numbers.”

Shawn Puretti knew what his friend meant.
The total trophies their team had won over the years ended with an
odd number. He grinned with deep creases in his jaw, seeing the
determined set to his best friend, and fellow soccer teammate’s,
jaw. They’d been close ever since they were toddlers, and he knew
when Aidan van Nuys had his jaw set that way, the inner bulldog was
awake and well. Now he wasn’t worried anymore.

“
Ever give modesty a try, Ace?” Shawn
asked.

“
When you’re out to win, modesty is a
liability, so I don’t waste my time with it,” he said, showing his
strong competitive streak. Then he grinned strong white teeth to
soften his arrogant response.

“
So, Ace? Speaking of modesty, um, I
guess you know how I feel about your sister all these years,” Shawn
started, and Aidan’s smile slowly faded as his blue eyes got a
little harder, “and I know how protective you are of her. But I was
just wondering . . . do you think she’ll wanna go to a dance with
me sometime—?”

“—
She’s got a boyfriend,” Aidan cut
him off gruffly.

“
It’s just a dance. And I did
say
some
time. Not now—” he
protested just when the referee whistled. “We’ll talk later,” Shawn
said.

Aidan sent him a bland smile. “Sure.
Whatever you say.”

It was time to get back to the
game,
much
to Aidan’s relief.
He just got more time to think up ways to make Shawn back off, but
right now he had a championship game to win. He shot a handsome,
confident grin over at three, sexy girls in skimpy outfits calling
out his name before he tossed his bottle to them. He chuckled as
they scrambled to catch it before he turned and sprinted with his
friend back to midfield, smiling at the two grinning Brazilians
with cool confidence.

He could appreciate their confidence. He
recognized the same in himself. He told Shawn the truth, even about
his older sister Shawn had been getting more and more interested in
for some time now, although he didn’t want to think about that.

No. When the stakes were high, he
didn’t waste his time on modesty. He never gave it a moment’s
thought, not with
his
powerful, competitive nature. He’d succeeded in everything
he’d ever set his mind to, and did so with bulldog tenacity. He
pursued his goals relentlessly, undeterred by temporary setbacks,
and always got what he set out to get . . . although he wasn’t
making one iota of progress with her.

He hated losing any match, but the
match he found himself now forced to play was
the
most important one of his life, although
pursuing this particular goal wasn’t really by choice. It was a
deep-rooted need. Some would call it fate. But all he knew was, he
felt his whole life stood or fell by a lose or win.

That’s how important this was to him.

It was really frustrating to him he couldn’t
get his message across, though, and every time he tried, he’d
instantly turned into a bumbling idiot. What’s worse, he was
growing increasingly insecure around her, and it was putting a
serious dent in his confidence and focus.

Normally, Aidan was never a guy to
make his needs and wants a secret (that would defeat the purpose,
wouldn’t it?), but he found himself tongue-tied the moment she’d
look at him, completely clueless about how he felt. He’d choke up
until he finally had to divert his gaze away from golden-brown
bunny eyes so he could
at least
breathe
.

With dark, sweaty head bent, he spat to the
grass with an annoyed frown marring his brow, thinking about how
stupid he’d been that morning. That didn’t help make his case with
his sister. If anything, his inability to be mature enough not to
lose his temper that morning reset the whole goddamn thing.

With eyes down and lean hands on his hips,
he looked as if he were contemplating strategy. In all truth, he
was—just not for the soccer game at hand. Still, his teammates
exchanged knowing looks, smiling . . . thinking their “ace” was
about to be pulled out. This boosted their spirits with renewed
energy and excitement—something that was sorely needed.

Then he looked up, and was about to go to
his position on the field when something caught his eye. He paused
as his jaw nearly dropped. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His sharp
gaze zeroed in on the fairly petite figure sitting between two
rambunctious redheads. He nearly caught his breath, seeing Dionne
had come to the game after all.

An all too familiar sizzling started
between his muscular thighs as his young cock twitched with
excitement. His half-mast erection told him just
how
happy he was to see she’d come.
Good thing he wore biker shorts under his soccer shorts or the
reaction he was experiencing seeing Dionne there would’ve been
pretty embarrassing.

He knew now how much he needed to win
this game now. Not for the trophy, or the fact it would be his last
for Arcadia High, but . . . for her. For them, and their future.
Come hell or high-water, he was going to win her heart and make her
his. Hel
DUH
could kiss his
ass. Just as long as he left Dionne’s alone!

He finally returned his focus on the game.
With her there, he felt a fresh surge of adrenaline infuse his
exhausted body. He raised his head to look at his fellow teammates’
positions, and mesmerizing bunny eyes faded into the back of his
mind. For now.

Slowly, an insightful, strategic plan began
to unfold. It was a risky one, but the only prayer they had left if
they were going to win this championship. Now he felt daring,
willing to go against reason, and strong enough to take on the
risks that were necessary if he was going to lead this game to
victory. He couldn’t lose this one, not now she was there.

Aidan made a series of hand gestures only
his team mates seemed to understand. He glanced one last time up at
the bleachers to see his family sitting in the front row. There sat
a small, light-skinned, dark-haired Malaysian man in a light blue
shirt and dark blue slacks. The moment he got his attention, he
jumped to his feet and began waving enthusiastically.

“
Well, looks like your dad’s got full
confidence in you, Ace,” Shawn chuckled as he passed him to get to
his spot.

“
He never gives up on me,” Aidan said
cynically, and Shawn chuckled with a wink.

Then he nodded a return greeting to his
father, seeing him smile before he seated himself beside his wife
again. Mom, a stocky Malaysian woman with a round, bright smiling
face, was there tending to their large brood. Aside from Dionne,
Aidan didn’t know of any other woman in the world with a heart as
warm as the sun and as big as Jupiter.

A clever smile slowly spread across his full
lips when he noticed Dionne wasn’t wearing that denim dress. His
hastily put together scheme had worked after all! She changed into
one of his favorite dresses—one that didn’t emphasize her lush,
pillowy behind as that denim dress did. The moment he got his
chance, he was going to look for it and toss it out. Maybe even
burn it.

The dress she was wearing now was an airy,
sleeveless summer dress in ivory with splashes of warm browns and
yellows. He knew those were flower patterns even if he couldn’t see
them from where he stood. He knew it because it was one of his
favorite dresses; one he always thought looked really pretty on
her. The color suited her ivory skin that rarely tanned, and
complimented her golden brown mane that usually tumbled down from a
center part to just under her shoulders in soft waves.

As if she could feel his gaze on her, she
turned her head. He could see her stare at him for a few moments,
and he felt his heart thud hard in his chest. Was she still upset
with him? She had every right to be.

Suddenly she lifted her hand and waved
enthusiastically at him. His tight squinting eyes, hidden behind
thick black lashes, softened a moment when he saw it before he
stuck up his hand and returned the greeting.

This is what he needed. He needed her
attention to feel whole. He needed her there to make this
championship worth fighting for, because
she
was. Feeling infused with energy now, he
turned and sprinted to the center of the field for the
kick-off. 

He was ready. 

Standing at six foot four, Aidan was the
tallest player on the field. When he saw who the Beach Blazers had
chosen to take the kick-off, he knew he couldn’t be the one to do
it for his team. It wouldn’t be fair—height wise.

Or so he wanted the Beach Blazer’s captain
to think.

Instead of taking the kick-off himself, he
instructed a fellow team player to do it. He was the same height as
the guy they chose to do the kick-off so it leveled the playing
field. Not that Aidan had any qualms about taking advantage of his
height in any game or sport. On the contrary. He’d used it to his
advantage more times than not. And it wasn’t because he’d gotten
all generous all of a sudden. No. The choice to send another team
player to take his place for the kick-off was part of his
strategy. 

He really did want that trophy—and he didn’t
want to disappoint her.

Standing by the two jumpers for the teams,
the ref put the whistle to his lips before he tossed the ball up
between the two players braced to come into action, and blew the
starting whistle. Luckily, the brunette for the Arcadia Aces was an
excellent jumper. This was his specialty.

So when the ball came down, he shot up into
the air like a tight-wound spring, shooting up higher than the team
player for the Beach Blazers. With a swift snap of his head, he
sent the soccer ball flying into Aidan’s direction.

Quickly shooting into a short run, legs
defined with powerful, flexing muscles, Aidan threw himself up into
the air and with a snap of his head, knocked the ball in a high
arch over the heads of the opposing team’s players into a fairly
empty part of the field.

Empty, except for Shawn, that is.

He caught it and shot into a run, dribbling
it through a growing wall of Blazers. His legs moved with
skill and grace, snapping around before catching the ball on the
instep of his cleat before he kicked it straight down the field,
barely above the grass.

The ball shot undeterred through the other
team player’s legs. They seemed hesitant or unable to catch it,
just as Romero and Mendes sped to the ball coming to the Arcadia
Aces’ Captain who was shooting forward.

When they got too close, Aidan shot the ball
off to Marv further up to his right who stood closer to the goal,
and was no longer blocked by Romero. Marv knew what his Captain
wanted to do, so he caught the ball, dribbled it forward and
zigzagged between the Blazers’ defenders as Aidan sped forward
breaking through their defense. Marv kicked the ball to Aidan who
hauled back his left foot and with a hard kick, sent the soccer
ball spinning to the top right corner of the goal. 

The ball was kicked so hard, it flew
right over the reaching fingers of the Blazer goalie into the net,
spinning along the back of it before it came right back out. With a
loud
whoop
, Marv shot to the
ball, secured it was already a goal, and kicked it back in before
running with arms up in victory.

A roaring cheer erupted from the
bleachers.

“
That was
fuck
tastic, Ace!” Shawn shouted happily as the
score board added another point to the home team.

Aidan’s radiant, chiseled face broke into an
ear to ear grin as they slapped hands high in the air, passing each
other on their way to their respective positions. There wasn’t any
time to gloat, though. The clock was ticking, and they needed one
more goal to win.

Aidan was determined to have that
trophy. 

“
Cruijf!
” his
father shouted.

He looked up, seeing Dad with hands cupped
along his mouth.

“
CRUIJF!
” he
shouted again.