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𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙋𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙩-𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡.

𝙊𝙝, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧? 𝙋𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙍𝙖𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙.

He’s supposed to be the ruler of this kingdom.
The prince poised to take his rightful place on the pitch.
Instead, he plays the jester, shunning his legacy.
Only I am privy to his lion heart.

Kingston Phillips is the heir to England’s football dynasty. The offspring of two of the world’s greatest players, the expectations set on his shoulders could crush the universe. But the golden-haired Adonis chooses to live his life as a game; a series of nightclubs, brawls, pranks and different kit chasers parading through his sheets.

I’m the last woman he should chase, and I’ve told him so. My cheeky mouth and icy demeanor guard the secret no one can learn. But when the Casanova I’ve been avoiding becomes the bloke next door, he quickly begins to thaw the frost around my heart. Kingston shows me the ferocious, loyal, protective side of himself that no one else gets to witness.

I begin to realize that he’s just as damaged as I am.
That as much as I try to deny it, we’re the same.
And … that might just be our undoing.