“But why would they be kissing my ass?” I asked in confusion. I took a bite of the sandwich.
Hayley looked at me as if I were a moron. “Because you’re dating Lucas. And Clara and Libby are two of the biggest goal diggers I have ever met. Though the closest they’ve ever come to bagging a footballer was the time they had a threesome with some National League player I had never heard of.”
“They had a threesome? No way!” I gaped, taking a drink of my soda.
“They sure did. From what I’ve heard it wasn’t the first time either.” Hayley finished her sandwich and started on her cherry bakewell tart, another new favorite of mine.
“And they had the audacity to callmea slag?” I shook my head.
“Us Brits are a judgmental lot,” Hayley chuckled.
“Don’t insult yourself by lumping all of you with the likes of Libby and Clara,” I scolded.
My phone ran and I picked it up, seeing a close up of Lucas’ eyeball flash across the screen. He had taken the picture with my phone at some point and had assigned the photo to his name in my contact list. He had laughed way too hard about the whole thing.
“Oh, is that Lucas?” Hayley asked.
“Yes it is. Sometimes I think you get more excited about him calling me than I do,” I teased.
“That’s because I’m living vicariously through you.” Hayley batted her eyelashes and I threw my balled up napkin at her face.
I answered the phone before it went to voicemail. “Hey you.”
“Hiya, love. How are you on this fine day?”
Hayley leaned in close, trying to hear Lucas’s side of the conversation and I had to push her back playfully. She stuck out her tongue.
“I’m pretty good. How about you?”
Lucas sighed. “Well, I call bearing bad news.”
“That sounds ominous,” I said.
“It is. I know I told you that I’d take you out to dinner tonight but there’s been a change of plans.”
My stomach dropped in disappointment. With Lucas’ schedule it was hard to see each other. It was usually only in stolen hours late at night when we couldn’t do much more than have sex and fall asleep. Having a proper date was next to impossible. So when Lucas had said we could go out to dinner after training tonight I had been more than a little excited.
But I wouldn’t let him know how let down I was. It wasn’t his fault. And it was part of the deal when I had signed on to date a professional soccer player.
“That’s fine. We can reschedule. I’ll see you some other time.”
“No, we’re still seeing each other,” Lucas said.
“Oh. Good.” I started smiling.
“Aww,” Hayley cooed.
I waved her away. “Then what’s the change in plans?”
Lucas sighed again. “My teammate Craig Denham has been busting my nuts about having us over for a dinner party. I’ve put him off for as long as I can without being a dick. It seems tonight is the night.”
“I’d love to meet your teammates. I think it sounds great.” I didn’t understand why Lucas was being so doom and gloom about it.
“Why do you sound so miserable at the idea? Are you embarrassed of me or something?” I joked, though there was a note of seriousness in my tone. My self-esteem had never suffered before. And while Lucas made me feel beautiful and important, there was still a voice in the back of my head that told me I wasn’t enough for a guy like him. That I never would be. I wasn’t a model. Or a pop star. Or rich. I was ordinary.
“Don’t be daft, Morgan. That’s not it at all,” Lucas replied softly. “It’s Craig’s wife, Marla—”
“Ah, Marla. Yes, I remember her well. I see now why you’re less than thrilled.” I hadn’t seen Marla since the away match in London and that was fine by me. After her bitchiness at the club in Soho, she was the last person I wanted to spend time with.
