Not a fan of football puns.
Noted.
9: Mae
“Well, aren’t these cute?” teases Flo as she turns her phone in her hand, showing me the screen.
I roll my eyes at the photo of Poppy, Bennett, Nathan, and me at the animal shelter. Nathan’s arm is around my shoulder in a friendly manner, his teeth blinding white as he smiles at the camera. His presence commanded the room without even trying, and it seems to happen wherever he goes. People look no matter what he does, and that pressure must be crushing.
Flo skips to the next photograph on a sports social media account that Peter sent the photos to. It shows Poppy cradling a snow-white cat to her chest, her head tilted back with laughter as Bennett crouches down behind her, his face contorted with displeasure as he scrapes a crusty pile of cat shit off the tiled flooring.
Poppy and I have been exchanging messages, and she’s been sending me videos of our routines to help me when she notices me struggling a little during practice. I find her easy to speak to, possibly a little overbearing, but I like it. She’s a ball of energy, and it’s contagious. I can’t help but feel in a good mood when around her.
Flo swipes again, revealing a photo of Nathan and I. The adorable beagle mix dog with the stitched-up leg—or Mr No Name as we now call him—is on my lap, his tongue lolling out as he licks my exposed collarbone. Nathan is beside me, his head slightly tilted, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips.
It was for the camera, though. As soon as the volunteer handed back the phone and disappeared, he went straight back to his favourite place—Grumpy Town.
“You should frame this one,” Flo says, arching her eyebrows at me, and I turn away from her and shake my head. I don’t want to think about anything other than the turkey-club sandwich she made for me.
“I don’t want Nathan Slater on my wall,” I tell her, my mouth full.
“Very ladylike.” She pauses. “And why not? He’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t mind seeing that every day.”
“He’s an ass. He looks at me like he wants me to drop dead.”
Okay, maybe that’sslightlydramatic.
He’s grinding my gears, though. We’re both stuck in the same position. We don’t want to be doing this—although I don’t mind volunteering at the animal shelter—so the best we can do is try and make it work for the time being.
He’s making it damn difficult, though.
Especially because he walks around with that body of his, which makes me literally drool.
“You should fuck him.”
I almost choke, attempting to wash my sandwich down with Flo's hefty glass of wine. She doesn’t have a filter, and although I’ve come to expect it, she sometimes takes me off guard. “Flo, that isnothappening.”
Her eyes narrow, and she flips her ashy hair behind her shoulder. “Not with that attitude.”
“There’s a no-fraternisation contract I’ve signed, and did you also miss the part where I said he looks at me like he wants me to drop dead?”
Flo sips her wine, but I can see her smiling against the glass.
“Can we please just change the subject?”
My best friend shoots me a look that saysWe’ll talk about this another timebefore agreeing. “How’s the vet program search going?”
I shrug. “I haven’t found any openings.”
“You’ll get there. Keep your head up.” Flo pats the top of my head. “Looking down too much will give you a permanent double chin.”
“You’re so weird.” I burst out into laughter.
She smirks at me. “But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“Hmm, honestly, I’d prefer you a little easier on the eye.”
She slaps my arm. She knows I’m kidding. Flo’s absolutely gorgeous with her long, ashy brown hair, ocean-blue eyes and tall and slender figure.
