The Golden Raven (All for the Game, #5)

by Nora Sakavic

“We left you alone for twelve hours,” Pat said. “Did you get hit by a car or something?” ​A stupid question deserved a stupid answer, so Jean said, “Yes.”

Jean core

“Friend,” Xavier said at last, “it’s just ibuprofen.”

“Derek wants Jean to go feral,” Derrick said.

WHO WANTS TO GO TO THE FOUR SEASONS HOTEL

“Should we skedaddle?” ​“Skedaddle,” Jean echoed. ​Cat turned on him, eyes bright with mirth. “Oh, please say that again.”

Me when jean is french hey hes french heyyy jeans french HEYYYY

“It’s Grayson.” ​Jean sucked in a slow breath through clenched teeth. “He’s here?” ​“No,” Jeremy said. “He’s dead.”

Wonder who did that!

Jeremy got up so fast he sent his chair flying.

The vise around his heart eased a bit when he saw Jean sitting alone in the front row, and he took a seat at Jean’s side. Cat stole the chair on his other side, leaving Laila to plant herself in front of him.

WAHH

For a moment he looked lost; for a moment he looked unbearably young.

The self-censure was regrettable, but then Jean said, “Pop. How easily these monsters die in the end.”

YESS NEIL JOSTEN YOUR WORDS LIVE ON

Jean didn’t even hesitate. “That ill-bred child is not my friend.”

“He was not my partner. It was not his job to protect me, and I didn’t want him to. I just wanted him to die.”

I was only alive because he made me promise to survive. If he died, who could hold me to that? I would have slashed the tires on his car before I let him escape us, and he knows it.”

“There you are,” Jean said. ​It was jarring enough to shake the warmth out of him. Where Leo had said it with hungry satisfaction, Jean only sounded thoughtful.

RAHHHHHHHHHHYYY

“What a colossal waste of time,” Jean said.

Rhemann’s face was inscrutable. “Neil Josten. Is he getting you into trouble?” ​That malfunctioning cretin existed to cause trouble for everyone in a thousand-mile radius,

That part

If there’s no perfect Court, there’s just you, and you have to take care of you.

That violent twist in Jean’s chest might have been grief; it was just as likely to be acidic resentment. “I will never stop playing,” he said, and wouldn’t dwell on the I can’t that echoed like a second heartbeat against his thoughts. “This is all I am.”

“It is not just your burden,” Jean said, and hooked his stick behind Nabil’s to hold him in place. “Trade to the other team. When you want to score, simply call for the ball, and I will give it to you.”

#needthat

A second time in a row Nabil squandered it, and Jean had had enough of that. He cast his racquet aside and started that way, but Derek grabbed his elbow to haul him to a stop.

LMAOOO

Derek turned, but Jean was already reaching out to snatch the ball from midair. He felt the impact knife down his forearm; all of the protection on Exy gloves was along the backs of a player’s fingers and hands to guard against overeager stick checks. Jean pushed the ball into the shallow net on Derek’s racquet so he could give his hand a vicious shake.

Omg jean on the court im gonna

Unsurprisingly, Jeremy was still standing under the spray as he chatted with Sebastian and Preston. Jean wouldn’t let his gaze linger, but he saw enough to put a hungry knot in his gut.

HELLLOOO???!!!

then over to Watt where he and Jeremy had wheel throwing.

God send me a gift

“Damn.” Cody sounded admiring, but they weren’t talking about the dog. “Is that how you say it? Jeremy.” They sounded it out, trying to match Jean’s accent. Jean wondered if he ought to be offended, but Cody saw the look on his face and hurried to say, “No, no, it’s so good. Please don’t ever change it. Jeremy,” they tried again, slightly better this time. “I bet he hit his knees the first time you said it. I would’ve.” ​Jean refused to go down that road. “Drink your water.”

I physically had to stand up and take a lap around my room

Jean was French, but he’d been in the United States long enough to know about the 4th of July. ​“It’s a holiday,” Jeremy said, for the third time. ​“Every year?” Jean demanded.

When’s your birthday?” ​“November.” ​Cat waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. “Like all thirty days of it, or do you want to narrow it down some for me?”

It was more endearing than it should be, and Jeremy hid a smile against his long-empty mug whenever Jean got particularly rude.

The second game was winding down when Laila popped into the doorway to give them a five-minute warning. She was already dressed to go in her black bathing suit, long legs on full display and hair pulled up into a pinned French braid. A few seconds after she left, the Trojans scored, but Jean didn’t even react. He was staring through the TV like he’d forgotten where he was. ​Jeremy couldn’t help himself. “Must be nice, liking both. I bet it makes things easier.” ​“Stop dyeing your hair. The bleach is rotting your brain,” Jean said, with more acrimony than Jeremy thought his comment warranted.

Bicon

Jean looked baffled as Xavier tried to explain top surgery to him, which was worlds better than disgust,

Im cfyibg

“Since it has no impact on how I play, he says it’s my prerogative to fix whatever’s broken. He doesn’t understand why he should have an opinion on my personal life one way or the other.” He smiled, slow and bright, and said, “I like him, Jeremy. Let’s keep him forever.”

THAT PARTTTT

The first time a family almost pushed Jeremy away from Jean, Jean caught hold of his wrist in a death grip. Jeremy took one look at his tense face and hauled Jean closer.

Im going crazy

Jeremy flicked him a worried look, but Jean’s transfixed gaze was on the fireworks crackling to life above them. Surprised, not afraid, Jeremy decided, but he couldn’t look away again. He watched colored lights dance off sun-reddened cheeks until Jean finally caught him at it. Gold peonies reflected in Jean’s eyes as he turned a curious look on Jeremy.

okay this is going in my note BYE

Jeremy rocked onto the balls of his feet to say at his ear, “I’m glad you came.”

GODDDD

Jean’s lips grazed his cheekbone as Jean turned his head, and every coherent thought Jeremy had crumbled to dust.

Only in the last minute of play did he stop noticeably reacting. Laila sighed and leaned forward, winding her arms around his shoulder in a slow hug. ​“You’ll be the death of us, Jean Moreau.” ​“I won’t let me be,” Jean said.

He raised a hand to get Kevin’s attention, and Kevin motioned to his companion before changing course. The crowd finally shifted enough to reveal the Foxes’ impossibly short goalkeeper.

ANDREW MINYARD MENTION IN OUR YEAR OF 2025

“Neil didn’t tell us where he was going, but we assumed we knew based on who he was supposed to be meeting. He never said Jean was involved.” Over his shoulder Kevin said, “He refuses to explain himself over the phone.” ​“Typical,” Andrew said, unconcerned.

Kevin settled on four shirts and brought them to Jean to try on. Two he rejected as soon as he saw Jean in them. The third gave him pause, and he folded his arms across his chest as he considered it with a serious look on his face. Jeremy wasn’t sure what the problem was; Jean looked just as good in this shirt as he had the last two.

Jeremy gay asl hes so real

“Put a jinx on the whole thing, why don’t you?” Cat lamented. “Go knock on wood.” ​“Elsewhere,” Jean added pointedly.

In quiet French he said, “I should not be here for this.” ​Kevin put his hand over Jean’s to hide the half-moon marks Jean was tearing into his skin. “Stay with me,” Kevin said, just as soft, and Jean forcibly relaxed his death grip.

I just cried

Hannah drummed her fingernails on the arms of her chair as she considered him. “A rare treat to see you so protective of someone, Kevin.” ​“I lost Riko this spring,” Kevin said. “Jean is the only brother I have left.”

HE HIT WITH THE BROTHER OH MY POOR BOY. jerejean for the win tho this made ME clench my heart in agony

Jean shouldn’t be surprised that this fair-haired rat would know Neil’s secrets, too, but he still cast a wary eye at Andrew as he weighed how to respond.

These insults bro lmaoo

“Hannah Bailey is a rancid bitch.”

“You’re Queen of the US Court—for now. How long can you hold it when you’re drinking poison?” ​“Always,” Kevin promised. “The last person who tried to take it from me died. Checkmate.”

“We are not talking about him. I won’t. I can’t.” ​“Even with me?” ​“You least of all,” Jean said. Kevin managed an unsteady frown, but Jean refused to believe him surprised by the rejection.

“You are not my captain or my partner. You cannot make me.” ​“Yes, I can,” Kevin said. Unspoken: you cannot refuse me. ​“I hate you.” ​“Sometimes you do. I don’t care.”

Jean wanted to shove her away, because how could he ignore this wretched ache if Cat was drawing attention to it? Instead, he dug bruises into her back, knowing he had to be hurting her but unable to let go.

Jean would always be a fan of emotional procrastination, so he said, “Yes.”

Jeremy’s smile was slow and radiant, and Jean had to look away. He needed to leave before he got himself in trouble, but of course Jeremy followed him to the kitchen.

Jean glanced at him as Laila left, then the empty doorway, and got to his feet. Jeremy caught his wrist before he’d taken the first step away. Jean heard the locks clacking undone on the front door as he turned a cool look on Jeremy. He wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t be picked up by those at the front door, so he leaned down into Jeremy’s face and murmured, “Let go, captain.”

Protective jean someone sedate me

Jean caught hold of Jeremy’s chin and forced his attention away from the doorway. Jeremy looked thrown, like he’d already forgotten Jean was standing there.

RAHHHGHHHHHHGGGHTG