“I just did.”
“Well, exactly. I’m going to be that wanker posting my good deeds online.”
“It’s different. You have to do what you need to, to stay on the team.”
“Aye, well, I’d already decided after this morning not to be a prat.” His eyes darkened. “And I willnae try a hard drug again. I mean it, My. I felt like shit after it, anyway. It’s no’ for me.” His accent thickened with his emotion.
Relief moved through me. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Do you …uh … do you … can you tell me about your mum?”
The thought of explaining my background nauseated me. It was like being stripped naked in front of people so they could judge all my defects. I rubbed at my eyes, giving my pulse a minute to slow.
“Let me just take out my contacts and then I’ll tell you.” I placed my mug on the coffee table, stood, and strolled into the bathroom.
“I forgot you wear them,” he called after me.
“I don’t forget. They’re a pain in the butt, and there are many times I’ve been tempted to spend my well-earned savings on laser surgery.”
I heard his approaching footsteps as I pulled my contact lens solution out of the bathroom cabinet.
“You should just do it.”
He filled my peripheral. I turned my head to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his biceps straining the sleeves of his T-shirt.
“I can’t spend my savings on eye surgery.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m saving for a deposit on a house. In this city, that might take me a million years. Not all of us are professional footballers, you know.”
“I rent.” He shrugged.
He did. He rented the coolest flat I’d ever seen down in Dean Village. His bedroom looked like it was floating above the kitchen in a glass cube. No joke. “But you can afford to buy.”
“Get the laser surgery, My. Life is short.”
I muttered under my breath about responsibilities and such as I tipped my head to capture the contact off my eyeball.
“I don’t know how you touch your eye like that.”
I frowned as my vision blurred in front of me. “You get used to it.” I fumbled for my glasses and shoved them on. Vision clear, I put everything away and then walked over to him. “All done.”
Baird’s eyes swept over my face. There was a roughness to his voice as he said, “You’re right. Don’t get laser surgery.”
“Why?”
“The glasses are sexy. You look like a hot librarian.”
“Flirt.” I gently shoved past him and reached for a hair tie off my sideboard. With a swish of my long hair, I tied it up into a messy bun as I returned to the sitting room and flopped back on my armchair.
The good thing about never wanting to pursue a romantic relationship with the most beautiful man I’d ever met was that I didn’t give a shit about my appearance.
My breath hitched at the realization. Because honestly, the only people I’d ever been comfortable not being “well-presented” in front of were Dad, Grace, and Lockie.
Baird was the least judgmental person I’d ever met, though. He made me feel like I could be fully myself with him.
“You all right?” he asked as he sat down again, his long legs sprawling toward mine.
