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And for all of you secret, quiet readers out there, enjoy! ;-)

I was in the locker room, getting ready for practice. It was 7:45 in the morning, and I was tying my cleats, ready to get onto the field so I could get my mind off of the stupid bet. Ever since Cristiano had proposed the ridiculous idea, that's all that I could think about. So much, in fact, that after the date I had completely forgotten all about my promise to call Megan and tell her what happened.

"Oh my god, Jordan just tell me what happened already!" Megan begged, clearly searching for some answers as to what happened over dinner.

I sighed, grabbing my soccer ball as we both began to walk towards the pitch. "He made me a bet."

"A bet?" Megan asked, looking confused, "A bet about wha-"

"What the fuck is he doing here?" I cut off Megan, and stopped dead in my tracks. There was Cristiano, in all his glory. Standing on my soccer field, wearing shorts, one of his Real Madrid jerseys, and seeming entirely pleased with himself. He grinned and shot me a wink.

I ignored the sharp tug in my gut, and glared at him, before stalking over to him.

"Where are you going?" I heard Megan call after me; I ignored her, and kept walking to Cristiano, stopping a few feet in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, both hands on my hips, glaring him down.

Cristiano smirked, "What, not happy to see me?"

I didn't respond.

"Coach Dennis asked me to help you guys out, give you a few pointers and stuff." He continued, ignoring my death glare, "What, didn't you know?"

I shot a look to my Coach, before mumbling to myself, "If I would have known, I definitely would not have made a bet with you."

"What was that?" Cristiano asked, though from the amused look on his face it was clear he had heard me.

"Nothing," I replied, gaining some confidence. I found that if I didn't look at his face, I couldn't get mesmerized by his inviting eyes, gorgeous smile, perfect teeth, and sexy hair… "Today's gonna be a good practice." I said to him, grinning, before running off to meet my coach, who had organized us all in a group, for the usual pre-practice pep talk.

I found that keeping my eyes off of Cristiano for the duration of practice was going to be a massive struggle. I had already goal-posted two perfectly wide open shots, made one miserable cross-over attempt and had been giving up the ball far too easily. Coach Dennis let me know he wasn't happy with my performance, either, by yelling at me for a good 5 minutes.

After attempting a horrible heel-cross, I felt my ankle give out and landed promptly on my ass, by the side of the field.

"Damnit!" I cursed, pounding the ground with frustration as I glared down at my ankle. As I was going to take off my cleat, I noticed someone crouching beside me. I glanced over and saw Cristiano. Wonderful.

"Don't bother," He stated, nodding his head at the ankle I was about to massage, "It's not the ankle that's giving you trouble. You put too much weight on your left foot when you were bringing your right heel around with the ball. Next time, try balancing your weight on the ball equally with your left foot. Then your ankle won't give out on you."

I know that he had been trying to be helpful, but his commentary on my playing was only adding fuel to the already ignited fire.

"Thanks," I said, attempting to slowly stand up without applying too much pressure on my ankle, "But I know perfectly well how to do a heel-cross. I do it all the time."

Cristiano stood up, eyeing me carefully, "Really? 'Cause from the looks of what I saw, it seems to me like you hardly practice football at all."

I knew he was just trying to set me off, hoping I would channel my angry energy into playing better, but I wasn't going to take any of it.

"Go be an ass to someone else." I said, grabbing the ball next to me, and hustling to meet with the rest of my team.

"Did you guys just have some sort of…conversation sex or something?" Megan whispered to me, while Coach was explaining a new drill he would be conducting with the help of Cristiano.

I scoffed, "Hardly."

"Then why is he standing over there, grinning like an idiot?"

I glanced back at Cristiano, who, was indeed, grinning from ear to ear. He winked at me, and I felt my heart pound within my chest. I turned back to Megan and simply said,

"He always looks like that."

About halfway through practice, which was a few hours in, the temperature outside spiked to a whopping 98 degrees, and I could feel my sweat sticking to me underneath my practice jersey.

"Gross, I hate when it gets this hot out." I muttered to one of my teammates, Katie, while I tried to fan myself off.

"Oh, I don't mind it at all…" Katie replied, her voice trailing. I glanced up at her, and saw she was staring at something in the distance. I followed her gaze and saw…

Holy god. Cristiano had taken his shirt off and was juggling a soccer ball lazily on the side of the field. I could see his abs glistening perfectly beneath the sunlight, and I could literally feel my mouth almost beginning to water. He had the most beautiful body. It started with his broad shoulders and perfectly sculptured collar bones, to a flawlessly straight line that ran smoothly down to his happy trail. His abs were toned, and I could see them working while he juggled the ball atop both of his thighs.

This was absolute torture.

"Like what you see?" Cristiano called over to me, while still juggling the ball effortlessly. I shook my head, playing it cool.

"Show-offs don't turn me on." I responded, smirking at him and taking a long gulp of my water in an attempt to cool myself down and clear my head.

"Are you sure about that?" I heard him ask me in a low voice, mere inches from my ear.

I froze. How the hell did he get over to me so quickly? I could practically feel his body heat radiating behind me as the smell of his cologne wafted up through my nose. He smelled heavenly, but he never came close enough to actually touch me.

"Uhm…yes?" I replied, though it came out sounding more like a question than an actual statement. Damnit, Jordan. Be more confident! "Yes," I continued, "I'm sure. Now either go pick on someone else or teach us something useful that we can use for soccer."

"You're awfully bossy," Cristiano noted, smirking at me. "I can be bossy too, you know."

I ignored the coursing heat throughout my body, and focused solely on the soccer ball I had between my feet.

"Soccer. Teach me." I reminded him, trying to take him off his high.

"Oh I can teach you lots of things, Ms. Jordan," Cristiano winked at me, a beautiful smile placed on his lips. Damnit. How is it that I was saying all of the wrong things?

I kicked the soccer ball from where it was resting on the ground in front of me up into my hands, and turned around so I could face him.

"See this soccer ball?" I asked, trying to sound menacing, "I'm known for my painful kicks to the groin. Would you like to see an example?"

Cristiano raised his hands in defense, though there was still a twinkle in his eyes. "Okay, okay, sinto muito." He apologized, also kicking up the ball so he was holding it in his hands. "What do you want to learn?"

"Everything. Anything." I replied, being completely serious. Cristiano shot me a look as if to say that was impossible. I spoke up quickly, "More specifically: controlled shots."

Cristiano grinned, "My specialty. Siga-me." He began walking towards the goal, and I just stared after him, blankly. "That means 'follow me'." Cristiano called, not bothering to look back at me.

In all honesty? I knew exactly what 'siga-me' meant, I was just more than happy to watch his shirtless body walk in front of me. I jogged over to him, as he set the ball down 10 or so feet from the goal.

"The trick is," he began explaining to me about the precision of hitting the ball in the correct spot and in what direction it would sail to if I hit it correctly.

I swear I was trying to listen, but there was this one small bead of sweat, rolling down his sexy abs almost as if it were in slow motion…

"…So if you do that, you should be fine." Cristiano ended his explanation, and glanced over at me.

I embarrassingly snapped my eyes up to his face, which now had a smirk plastered on it. Damn, he totally knew I had been staring…

"I can put a shirt on if it's too distracting." He commented huskily, flexing slightly.

I did my best not to roll my eyes, and dribbled my ball to where he was standing, "Don't flatter yourself, Ronaldo. I was studying your feet, not your…" I was going to say 'sexy 6-pack', but caught myself in the knick of time. "…abs."

"Of course you were." Cristiano grinned.

We practiced shooting for 30 minutes or so even after the entire team left. I was grateful they left because I didn't want to have to deal with my teammates reactions as to why Cristiano and I were having such a hard time being around each other. Okay maybe he wasn't having a hard time, but I certainly was.

I said goodbye to Cristiano around 5:30 from the pitch, and went straight home. I took a cool, relaxing shower to rid myself of the gross sweat from the day, and tried my hardest not to think about Cristiano's glorious shirtless debut. He really was killing me. I had been only slightly attracted to him before, but suddenly since the bet began, my senses seemed to have heightened, and I was now more attuned to his body; how it smelled, what it looked like, the curve of his shoulders, how his pelvic lines formed the perfect greeting to his…

I was interrupted by a knock on my door. I glanced at the time, and saw that it was only 6:30. Odd. I threw on a pink tank top with white Nike shorts that went about mid-thigh length. I left my hair wet and dripping, before answering the door.

"You clean up nice," I heard a familiar voice breathe, while staring at me from head to toe.

"Benny?" I asked, in complete awe that he was here. "What-how-…what are you doing here?"

Benny, aka Benny Feilhaber, played for the AGF Aarhus soccer club in Denmark. He was recently recruited to be in the roster for the U.S. national team at this year's FIFA world cup. So you can imagine my surprise as to why he was…here.

"I wanted to visit you, of course." He replied sweetly, entering into my apartment and giving me a soft kiss on the lips. "How've you been?"

"You mean since you left California or since you left me?" I asked, shutting the door behind me and staring at him.

"Oh c'mon, Jordan, don't be like that…" Benny began, taking a step closer to me. But I stood my ground.

"Don't be like what, Benny? One minute you're living with me, and we're getting ready to move to Utah together and buy a house, and then the next morning you've signed with Aarhus and are all gung-ho for Denmark!"

"I offered to take you with me." He pointed out.

I sighed, "That's not the point, Ben."

"Then what is?" He asked.

"I was going to say yes." I mumbled softly, not making eye contact with him.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"I found the ring, hidden in one of your soccer cleats," I glanced up at him before repeating myself, "I was going to say yes."

I saw Benny's eyes soften, and he took another slow step towards me, enveloping my waist with both his arms as he held me gently.

"Why didn't you ask me?" I asked, peering up at him.

Benny sighed, "Because we got into that fight, and you said you didn't want to come to Denmark with me."

"I didn't want to go with you because we had both decided that I was going to go play in Utah! It was the best chance for me to make my move towards getting recruited for WPS!"

"Yes, but me going to Denmark was the only way my soccer career was going to get started. How do you think I ended up on the national team?"

"But we had already made the Utah decision together, Benny! You took AGF's offer without even so much as asking me about it."

Benny scoffed, "What, because I needed your permission to go?"

"Benny…" I sighed, completely defeated. I didn't want to argue with him over this anymore.

"Look, it's over."

"Clearly." I interrupted, trying to pull back from him.

"That's not what I meant," He continued, gripping my waist so I couldn't turn away. "I mean that's it's over, it's already happened. But now we have this chance, now, to be together."

I looked up into his ocean-blue eyes with difficulty, having mixed feelings. What would I accomplish by sleeping with him? Absolutely nothing. On the other hand, it was Benny…my Benny. The Benny I had been with for almost 3 years before he left me.

He knew my resistance was cracking, so he whispered softly, "For old time's sake, Mick?"

I was completely shattered at the use of my old nickname; "Mick" was short for McLaughlin- my last name.

He leaned forward and met my lips, kissing me gently and softly at first. It quickly escalated as he pushed me back against the wall, his hands hungrily running along the barely exposed skin beneath my tank top, and trying desperately to push it off of me. I released myself from his mouth to breathe, and helped him with my tank top, quickly disposing it on the ground next to me as he worked our way to the couch. I moaned quietly as his hands began roaming my body, attempting to unbutton my shorts while his lips sucked on my pulse point at my neck.

"You know, Jordan," Benny whispered softly between kisses up to my ear, "It's always going to be you." He stopped kissing me when he reached my mouth, and looked into my eyes, "Always." I couldn't help the slow smile that spread across my lips just before he kissed me again.

And I was breaking, breaking, breaking.

Benny was in the shower when I heard someone at the door. It was almost 9:30, who on earth could possibly be here at this time?

I grabbed Benny's shirt and shoved it on over my body, and pulled on my shorts since I figured going pant less would be rather slutty. I opened the door, and-

"Cristiano." I stated, staring at him blankly. It seemed to be more a dun-dun-dun sort of thing, than an actual happy, excited thing.

"Interesting choice of clothing," He smirked at me, nodding at Benny's shirt, which was probably two or three sizes too big for me.

"Yeah, well…" I began, not really knowing how to explain.

"Can I come in?" Cristiano asked, looking around my apartment behind me, "I brought us some cool sustenance." He held up his hands, and showed me two pints of Ben 'N Jerry's ice cream. I felt my gut twisting into shame. Why did I feel so bad? It's not like we were dating or anything.

"Cristiano that's really sweet but-"

"Hey, Mick?" I heard Benny calling out my name, "Do you think we could put on that one Amanda Bynes soccer movie you were always obsessed with when we were-" Benny stopped when he entered into view in just a towel wrapped around his waist, and saw Cristiano at the door.

I glance from the ice cream, to Cristiano, to Benny, and then back to Cristiano. He either looked like he wanted to punch Benny in the face, or cry. I would go with punching, since I was sure Cristiano Ronaldo hardly ever cried- much less over a girl.

Cristiano looked from my shirt, to Benny, to my tank top on the floor, then back to Benny in a towel, and made the connection.

"I shouldn't have come here." Cristiano finally said, a look of resignation on his face and in his voice.

"No, Cristiano-" I began, not even knowing where to begin or what to say.

"Just forget it, Jordan." He snapped, before turning around and leaving my apartment.

I shut the door behind him, feeling completely embarrassed and humiliated. Why did Benny have to show up here tonight? Of all freaking nights to visit me, he comes on the one day that Cristiano wanted to eat ice cream with me. Of course.

"Am I going to get an explanation as to why Cristiano Ronaldo was bringing you ice cream late at night?" Benny asked me, clearly wondering if he needed to be jealous.

I played it cool, and said with a shrug, "I was just wondering the same thing."

But inside, I was breaking, breaking, breaking…

Da-na! Another chapter completed. :-) I wrote this kind of in honor for Benny since the U.S. lost their match today against Ghana :-( Definitely cried over that one. If you enjoyed the drama, leave me a wonderful review!