Better Sorry than Safe

The sun beat down on the muddy football field, a deceptive spring warmth that did little to dry the perpetually soggy ground. Sem Bolton, heart pounding from exertion and something else entirely, dodged a tackle, his eyes darting to the fence. He knew he was there. The 'hot jogging guy', the one who usually just ran past, but today, he was watching.
Sem fumbled a pass, the ball sailing wide. A scowl twisted his features as he roughly wiped sweaty curls from his eyes. He risked another glance. The figure was still there, leaning casually, his dark eyes squinted against the glare, making his olive skin glow. Damn, he was handsome.
"Sem!" Nick's voice, sharp with annoyance, ripped him back to the game. Sem cursed under his breath, knowing he'd just blown his chance to impress. He was sucking today. And 'Jack'—his made-up name for the stranger—was definitely noticing.
