Did you ask him?
“Shoot.” I looked up at my family. “Work calls. I need to head home.”
“Already?” Grandma Elodie pouted. “We were going to have another cuppa.”
Hurrying across the room, I hugged her tight. “Sorry. I really need to deal with these.”
I embraced my pseudo-grandparents, my aunt and uncle, and my mum and dad. Before I could leave, Mum cupped my face in her hands. Worry shone from her pale gray eyes. “You take care of yourself, baby. Think about if all this success is worth it.”
“It is,” I promised her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before hurrying from the house.
I was barely looking where I was going as I walked down Dublin Street, eyes to my phone, trying to think of the most succinct way to explain to Callan the conversation I’d had with Dad.
“If you don’t look up, you’re going to walk into a bollard.”
The voice not only made me look up but drew me to a complete halt.
Because there, standing at the bottom of the street, was Callan.
He was casual in a T-shirt and jeans, his hands in the pockets. Still, he smoldered. It was in those beautiful green eyes. I don’t think he even realized he smoldered. It came naturally to him.
No wonder he has a revolving door of women, I thought, suddenly uneasy.
Then I reminded myself I hadn’t bumped into him with another girl in a while.
“What are you doing here?” I glanced sharply over my shoulder, uphill toward my parents’ home. “Didn’t you have a game today?”
“Against Dundonald.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. “It was a draw.”
“Better than a loss.”
“Not really. That, on top of losing to Roselin in the European tournament on Thursday … it’s been a shit week in that respect.”
Seeing how troubled he was, I felt a pang of sympathy. Callan’s drive to succeed at the game wasn’t any different from my drive to succeed at my business. “You’ll get them next time.”
He smirked. “Thanks. We play Roselin again Thursday and we’re coming for them. There will be blood, sweat, and skin smeared across that fucking pitch, and it won’t be ours.”
“Good. Confidence is key.” Why did him talking about beating another team make me hot and flustered?
“Anyway, thought I’d walk you back. See how it went with your dad.”
“How do you know where my parents live?”
“It’s public knowledge your family lives on Dublin Street.”
That was actually true. We’d even had Mum’s fans show up and take photos of the front of the house. At one point, my parents considered moving when the TV show that blew up Mum’s career was all the rage. Fortunately, the fandom dieddown, as was inevitable, when the audience moved on to the next big thing.
I huffed. “You are the most annoyingly determined person I have ever met.”
Callan shrugged and fell into step with me. “You didn’t text me back.”
I waved my phone in his face. “I was about to, Captain.”
“Well, I’m here, saving you the trouble. Did you speak to your dad?”
“I did.” I relayed most of the conversation between us.
A deep frown marred Callan’s brow. “He’s seriously denying we reached out?”
