My Goal

  MY GOAL

  by

  H J Perry

  My Goal © H J Perry 2016

  Amazon Kindle Edition

  Cover design by ResplendentMedia.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.

  First LoveLight Press electronic publication: September 2016.

  http://lovelightpress.com

  Home Goal is set in the UK and so contains some British words and phrases but is largely written in American English.

  The Birmingham City South football team and characters are fictional but real people, places and events are mentioned in the story.

  Join H J Perry's mailing list, CLICK HERE! For a free newsletter including details of forthcoming books, which are released at discounted price.

  ABOUT

  A story of first love. A friends-to-lovers romance between two closeted soccer players.

  He’s cocky, he’s arrogant, he’s entitled to his big ego. He an International footballer and a multimillionaire. Carlos Garcia’s a huge success on and off the pitch, and he’s got it all. Joining a new football club, he wants his teammates to like him, especially the one man who sets his pulse racing.

  As the quietest guy on the football team, Harry Carter avoids attention. He’s so scared of people finding out he’s gay that he’s made sure there are just clothes in his closet. He has nothing to hide, there’s no history, no past, no secret boyfriend, not even a one-night stand. Ever.

  Things are changing. Outside of work, Harry’s best friends are a discreet gay couple, but how is Harry going to keep all the secrets when the new guy on the football team keeps hanging around? Why exactly does Carlos sit next to Harry at every opportunity?

  A standalone story with a happy ending and no cliffhanger.

  Features:

  A secret wedding

  Workplace romance

  Millionaire sportsmen

  A bisexual man who meets his dream man

  First time love and sex

  Two hot guys in love

  CHAPTER ONE

  June 2012

  CARLOS

  "We need to talk about the transfer window."

  The agent was on the phone already, and Carlos hadn't even had breakfast. "Tony, do we have to talk about this now? I've got a cup final to win tomorrow." He slumped down between the covers on his hotel bed.

  "And the transfer window opens officially tomorrow. Come on, Carlos, I've been trying to get you to talk about this for weeks."

  "I've been a little busy traveling around Poland and the Ukraine in case you hadn't noticed."

  The end of the official season allowed no rest to those playing in the Euro. It involved traveling to stadia around Eastern Europe for training sessions and matches. Carlos was exhausted.

  "I know that means you've spent hours with nothing to do. You can talk to me. I've got football clubs ready to bid for you. So what's your problem?"

  "I've been busy winning the football games." Exhaustion. It was fucking tiring. "I'm not joining any team in July. I'm not going on tour or to summer camp. That's final. I need a proper break, cold alcohol, fatty food, and ready women. I'm going on holiday."

  "Fine, have a month off. Just turn up for the fitness test and be ready to work at the start of the season. But the question is, where do you want to go? You are hot property right now, especially for advertising. If Spain wins tomorrow that makes the World Cup in 2010 and the Euro in 2012. You are the unstoppable Spaniard. You're playing well. You're in your mid-twenties, so not too old to get a bumper payout."

  "And you'd get your terrific commission."

  "For the contracts I negotiate for you, I'm worth every penny," Tony said.

  "I'm just saying it's in your interest for me to move as well. That's how you make good money."

  "I'm looking after your career, Carlos. The life of a football player at that top level where you are now is short. Your window for making a shed load of money diminishes quickly, but right now you're still the most recent World Cup winner until 2014, when some other team takes the glory."

  "I don't want to go from here straight on to some advertising campaign and a training camp. I don't need it, so don't even ask. As for what club I should go to, that's your job. Come back and tell me the offers. I'm only interested in the top teams, so I'll go to Spain, England, Italy, you know which clubs. You don't need me to list them."

  "You'd be happy to stay in England instead of going home to Spain?"

  "Tony, I've got Spanish parents, but that hardly makes me Spanish. I have a European Union passport, and I've lived in England half my life. The Manchester teams are among the best in the world right now, so they'd be among the top of my list."

  "The Spanish teams would like you."

  "Fine. Get me an offer I can't refuse from one of them, Barcelona or Madrid. I don't even know why we are talking about this."

  Carlos wasn't sure which of them was being the dick in this conversation, him or his agent. He feared it could be him; he knew he was exhausted. Perhaps he wasn't thinking straight. Maybe he was missing a part of the bigger picture.

  "Tony, I want an offer that marks me out as one of the best football players in the world. I want people to mention me when they talk about Ronaldo and Messi. I'm working toward the legend of Garcia; a player they'll remember. I'm doing my bit, but legends are made with the help of great agents getting the right contracts."

  "It's a lot to live up to. Isn't it daunting?"

  "Nah. I am Carlos Garcia."

  "I'll do my best, Carlos; it just helps to know your priorities. Have you seen the new website?"

  "Yes, it's exactly what we need to promote the Carlos brand." The website under construction looked awesome. "Who wouldn't like a virtual world dedicated to himself? There is a fan zone where they can upload comments and memes."

  "Great. What about controlling abuse?"

  Tony was a great agent, but a dinosaur when it came to the internet and technology in general.

  "Yes, Tony. The webmaster is managing all that. I wouldn't want a free-for-all on my website. That could backfire big time. But while the fans love me, and I interact with them, the content will stay fresh and entertaining."

  "This will certainly support and enhance your image. I like the 'Get a bit of Garcia,' line on the home page."

  "It's promoting the Carlos Garcia brand. CG should be synonymous with suave and sexy."

  Tony laughed. "You're crazy, Garcia."

  "I may be, but who is the best footballer in the world right now?"

  "The photos look superb."

  "You've seen them?" Images were found to illustrate Carlos's soccer career to date. They weren't all football kit pics. Some were candid shots, and publicity poses. "I was pleased."

  "You look like a highly marketable sex symbol from what I've seen."

  "Tony, I never knew you felt that way." Carlos laughed and heard the agent chuckle too.

  Of course, as a millionaire in his mid-twenties, and with less than a decade left ahead of him in which he could expect to play football at the top level, sex app
eal was exactly what he hoped he had going for him. A modeling career lasts a lot longer than a footballing one.

  "When people think of the top five footballers, my name should instantly be one of those that come to mind right there alongside Messi and Ronaldo."

  "So you want a contract that reflects your image."

  "Of course. It's pretty obvious, isn't it? If I'm moving, it's got to be to one of the top teams in the world."

  "How would you feel about playing for one of the Spanish teams and relocating to Spain?"

  "Good. I could work on my tan and speak my mother tongue. I know plenty of the guys.

  "You could see more of your parents if you lived in Spain. But what about your girlfriend in England? What was her name? Christine or Catherine?"

  "Kerstin. I had to let her go."

  "What was wrong with Kerstin Newport?"

  "You know how it is with these girls. The fun is in the chase, but I get bored of them pretty quickly."

  "Carlos, I think you just find the wrong women."

  "I am definitely finding the wrong women. But there is so much of me to go around it would be a shame to limit something this good to just one woman."

  "You are such a tart."

  "Given the opportunity, yes."

  HARRY

  "I can manage more." Harry already held two boxes in his outstretched arms, but they were small and not particularly heavy. "You can put another on top."

  "No, I can't, because if you can carry three boxes it makes me look bad unless I also carry three boxes."

  Scott appeared young and fit, but it reminded Harry of the vast differences between them—the athlete and the geeky science student.

  Another two differences were that Scott was out and had a boyfriend. Harry had no boyfriend, and he lacked any romantic or sexual experience worth mentioning. So he didn't mention it. He didn't tell anyone he was gay, not even his closest friends, Scott, Jason, and Liz.

  Scott was out, and always had been. But Scott's boyfriend Jason remained firmly in. He wasn't ready for the exposure as the first out gay football player.

  And neither was Harry.

  Even his closest friends didn't know his secret, but he barely had a secret to share.

  "Boys, boys, you don't have to show off. Neither of you are going to impress me by breaking your backs carrying too much stuff at once. What I'm really wondering is why we don't use the elevator?"

  Liz held a bulging black garbage bag, presumably full of valuables, not refuse, which she had just brought from the car. She dumped it in the lobby.

  "I'm not boasting or trying to impress either of you. But by the time we load your stuff into the elevator, go up one floor, and unload it again, it will take longer than just running up the stairs, even if I do it alone."

  Harry didn't intend to show off, but as a professional athlete, he wasn't going to break a sweat moving a carload of boxes stuffed with the accoutrements of student life.

  "Jason's front door is just at the top of this first flight of stairs. This is nothing compared to my daily workout. It doesn't seem worth putting them down and picking them back up again. It's easier just to run up lugging your valuable possessions."

  Liz shrugged. "Let him work like a mule if he wants."

  Scott placed another box on top of Harry's pile.

  Scott and Liz were moving to the apartment below Harry's, which they would share with Scott's boyfriend, Jason. He wasn't just Harry's neighbor, living below him in the luxury apartment block in central England, but a fellow football player for the Birmingham South City Football Club. BSC consistently finished in the top six teams in the Premier National Football League. As such, it was one of the best soccer teams in the world, although it was the two Manchester teams which secured the top two places in the league in May of this year.

  "Remember, Jason and I lift weights in a gym three or four times a week. Strength and fitness is our job," Harry called over his shoulder as he jogged up the stairs with ease. Even though it was several weeks into the off-season, like most elite professionals he still maintained an exceptional level of fitness by working out most days.

  "I thought their job was running about and kicking a ball for a ridiculous amount of money." Liz's comment to Scott was barely audible as Harry dumped the cartons in Jason's hallway.

  A high-profile, celebrity sportsman on mega money, Jason was on the multimillionaire wage after a lucrative transfer to the team the previous summer and as a player on the English National Team.

  Earning just under a million and never invited to play for his country, Harry didn't dwell on his fortune as the poorer team player.

  Harry smiled. He knew that you didn't have to hang out with a footballer for many weeks before you discovered they lived under an intensive health and fitness regime.

  Scott replied, "That's part of the job. The other part is to look good enough for the cover of The Advocate when they take their tops off."

  "I heard that, Scott." Harry jogged back down the stairs.

  Harry liked hanging out with Jason's new boyfriend, Scott, and their friend, Liz. They were a refreshing change to the footballers with whom Harry spent most of his time. Harry had only met Scott a few months earlier at the beginning of the year. At the same time he’d discovered Jason was gay.

  "Well, you do all take your shirts off at the end of a match." Scott took off up the stairs holding a suitcase in either hand. "And some of us like what we see."

  "Scott's got a point. I mean, how many of you appear in adverts in your underwear?" Liz handed a box to Harry, and she bent to pick up another. Top athletes were in demand for lucrative marketing campaigns, and they always required a certain look.

  "I haven't, and I've not thought about it much."

  This was, of course, a lie. Fit and masculine, sexy and alluring, Harry was aware of countless ad campaigns featuring his sporting colleagues, but he refused to let himself focus on those images. To do so threatened the barrier he had built around his desires and emotions. A wall built up for his own protection.

  There were no out gay footballers, and up until a few months ago, Harry thought he might be the only one. He was damn sure coming out would end his career and ruin his relationship with his family.

  "To be honest, Harry, I really appreciate your help," said Liz.

  "Happy to help you both; it isn't a burden. I'm home with not much else to do." With ease, Harry jogged up and down the steps as he spoke, holding the boxes stuffed with books and papers. The boxes formerly contained bags of frozen burgers and fries while stored and transported from warehouse to fast food burger chain, but were salvaged and recycled by students for moving home. "It's the off-season, and my only plans involve watching the Euro football matches."

  Midway between the quadrennial World Cup tournament that took place in the football off-season, the 2012 European Championship was held in eastern Europe. As a member of the national team, Jason was away playing for England at this time when most footballers enjoyed family vacations. For professional footballers, pre-season tours and training camps commenced in July each year.

  "Are you going out to watch the match tonight?" For a moment Scott looked serious. He glanced at Liz, who looked back at him with eyebrows raised.

  Scott threw his hands up in the air. "I can't believe I'm asking a bloke about whether he is planning to watch football, this is so not me."

  Liz laughed. "I know. I did wonder."

  On another return journey to the lobby, Harry reached the bottom step and made a light jab to Scott's shoulder. "That's what most blokes do, Scott. I don't know where you've been, but blokes watch the Euro."

  "Well, I'm only watching the games when England's playing, so that I can drool over a certain player. Do most blokes do that as well?"

  "Scott, I'm willing to bet most blokes do not drool over the players." Harry shook his head and laughed.

  "I'll bet there are a lot of women and men who do fantasize about seeing a bit more of them," said Liz
.

  "I don't need to fantasize." Scott looked at the floor, and the smile fell from his face. "Well, I do this week. He's not here. I can't wait for him to get back. Well, depending how they do tomorrow night he could be back pretty soon, but for his sake, I'm hoping they make the final. For him and for my country, it's the sacrifice I have to make when I have to wait even longer to see him."

  "I guess you're not planning on watching the match tonight then? You're welcome to watch it with me later, if I can tempt you," Harry said to Liz as she handed over a box labeled Fluid Mechanics and Hydraulics, scrawled in black marker pen.

  "No thanks. Watching your team play is quite enough for me," Liz replied. "Thankfully there's no more of that until the new season starts in August."

  "Don't be rude, Liz. Harry and Jason love football, even if we don't," said Scott.

  Liz blushed. "Sorry."

  "Don't worry about it. You are partly right, Scott. But it's our job, and like any job it has good bits and bad bits. Jason's away from you now. As players, we spend half our lives in hotels and hiding from journalists. I'm sure he'd rather be with you. This month, if England wins in the Euro, they'll all be national heroes. That's amazing. But a momentary mistake on the pitch and one of them could be demonized; it's happened to Beckham and Rooney in the past. There's a lot of pressure on the boys playing for the country."

  "Yes," Scott nodded, stopping to listen. "Do you think England stands much chance of winning?"

  "You never know with football. There's an element of luck and seizing opportunities. My church has been praying for some of the players, but I don't know if that will help. Right now England is one of the underdogs. Truth is, we have great players, but we have no recent positive experience of pulling together for the national team. I wouldn't be surprised if we're knocked out tomorrow, in which case they'll fly right back the next day. If we get through tomorrow, I'd be surprised if we win this year."