“A-and you n-need help?”
“In more ways than one.” He frowned down at her. “Are you sure you’re Lily Sawyer?”
She nodded vigorously. “I’m Lily Sawyer. Lily Sawyer is me. I have ID if you want.”
His lips twitched as he continued to study my cousin like she was fascinating. “Not necessary.”
Lily practically gawked back at him.
Feeling like I was intruding, I shot to my feet. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll talk to you later, Lily.”
“But—”
“Nice to meet you, Sebastian.”
He barely acknowledged me, apparently unable to take his eyes off Lily. I smiled to myself as I walked away. My cousin deserved to have a golden god stare at her like she was the only person in the room. Her last boyfriend had been a total tosser who slept with one of her so-called friends. January paid his flatmate to let her into Lily’s ex’s room where she’d retrieved some of the belongings Lily had left and then stuck a fish she’d bought from the fishmonger in the back of his wardrobe.
“I hope it takes him months to find it,” Jan had declared with savage satisfaction.
No one messed with January Sawyer’s big sister and got away with it.
I couldn’t wait to talk to Lily about Sebastian later when we were alone. Forever the secret romantic, I imagined their tutoring session turning into something far more exciting.
Even through my thrill at the prospect of Lily dating handsome Sebastian, I felt a twinge of envy. For some reason, lately, I had to admit I’d been reluctant to go back on the dating app. Time was ticking, though. Next February I’d turn twenty-five. That put me three years behind my mum when she found love. I didn’t want to waste my twenties looking for it! I wanted what Mum had.
A lifetime with Mr. Right.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CALLAN
Ifollowed Baird from the training grounds to Leith. While he’d surprised most people by moving to the picturesque medieval Dean Village a twenty-five-minute walk west of my place, his sister Ainsley lived in a modern apartment in Newhaven.
We met Ainsley at a pub in the heart of Leith and instantly regretted it as we crossed the room toward her where she sat at a window booth.
“Yo! He’s slick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen! Callan Keen!”
I glanced over my shoulder at the bar where a lad around my age was chanting. I gave him a toothless smile and a wave before sliding into the booth beside Baird, across from Ainsley. It was difficult, but I also pretended not to see the phones popping up to take our photo.
“He’s slick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen! Callan Keen!”
Ainsley rolled her eyes with a good-natured grin.
“It wis fun watchin’ ye get fucked up the arse last weekend, lads!” the chanter’s companion shouted with a sneer.“Dalmarnock goat ye nice and lubed for the fuckin’ Leith is gonnae gee ye!”
“Enough!” a deep voice boomed from behind the bar. “You leave my patrons alone or get out.”
The pub went quiet, and Baird and I shared a glance as we felt the burning stares of the entire place. The only sound that broke the silence was the fake shutter noise of phone cameras clicking. After a few beats, however, conversation picked up again.
“You two know how to make an entrance,” Baird’s sister teased.
“I need a chant,” Baird grumbled. “I’m one of the best goalies in the country. Where’s my chant?”
His sister cocked her head in thought. Ainsley was surprisingly petite compared to her brother, but they shared the same dark hair and eyes. “I think your name is the problem, not your talent. How the hell do you chant Baird McMillan? Just doesn’t have the same ring to it as Callan Keen. Too many syllables.”
That seemed to appease Baird.
“Would you like to order food?”
