“And the money?” I filled in a little nastily.
Cherly looked taken aback. “No. That’s not what I—”
“I know. Forget it.”
I started to type out a response to Morgan’s text. I wanted to tell her I’d be there as soon as I could.
She was a nice distraction.
Someone I could be Lucas with. NotLucas Bradley star striker.
She didn’t expect anything.
Which was good because I couldn’t give her anything substantial.
And she was nothing like the women in this club. Needy women wanting to sink their claws into a footballer at whatever cost to their pride and self-esteem.
“Alan, I’d like to head out.” I turned to find my friend tongue deep in a random woman’s mouth.
He waved me away.
I looked around for Martin and found him too snogging some woman who was obviously way too old for him.
Well bugger.
I sat back down at the bar. “Want to buy me a drink?” Cheryl asked. It seemed she was still going to try her luck.
I barely glanced at her. “You can’t buy your own?”
“I didn’t realize you were such an arsehole,” she muttered.
“I’m not an arsehole, I’m just not interested.” Might as well put it to her straight instead of leading her on.
“Fine, but you don’t have to treat me like shite.” She got the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have a gin and tonic and he’ll have—” She looked at me expectantly.
“I’ll have a beer. Nothing fancy,” I told the guy.
Cheryl pulled out a tenner and laid it on the counter. “I can pay for my own drink,” I told her.
She shrugged. “Get the next one.”
I opened my mouth to remind her that nothing was going to happen and she shook her head. “I’m not trying to get you drunk so I can have my way with you, Lucas. Maybe I’d just like a little company while my friends get lucky.”
We both glanced back at Alan, Martin, and their overly eager partners. The woman Alan was with was pulling him back towards the bathrooms already. We were going to be here for a while. Alan never did anything quickly. And that included public sex acts.
I could call a cab. That way I’d still make it to Morgan’s before she went to bed. I pulled up a list of cab companies on my phone as my beer arrived.
Cheryl lifted her drink and clinked it with my bottle. “To not having sex.”
I chuckled. “Sure. To not having sex.”
I drank the beer in one gulp and Cheryl ordered another.
“So I was at the game yesterday. You played really well. But you’re having trouble on the break. Dubois was trying to feed you crosses and you weren’t always there to get them,” Cheryl observed, surprising me.
“Pardon me? I was there, but Bolton’s defense was harder to penetrate than it looked,” I defended.
Cheryl sipped on her cocktail, raising her eyebrows. “I saw some sloppy set pieces. If you don’t tighten those up the big boys will blow through your offense.”
