We’d known each other for years, and not once had Rosie shown any interest in the sport.
‘Since I found out they wear tiny shorts. I swear, it’s replaced porn for me.’
Swapping porn for football? Was that a thing? I myself didn’t see the appeal of watching a team of men struggle to find the back of the net for 90 minutes. If I wanted disappointment and anticlimactic performances I’d reactivate my Tinder profile.
‘He’s been all over the news recently. How have younotheard of him?’ She shook her head in disbelief.
‘I’ve had a few other things on my mind. Besides, arrogant footballers and their fall from grace aren’t exactly at thetop of my news feeds.’ We both accepted the fresh glass of wine the bartender placed before us.
‘I don’t care if he’s the spawn of Satan. I’d climb him like a tree and cling on like a koala.’
I wrinkled my nose. ‘I didn’t need that visual.’
Without looking, Rosie extended a hand and grabbed her wine, bringing it to her lips. Her eyes darted from me to Oliver-motherfucking-Blake. An inkling of interest sparked inside me. I knew Rosie fawned over the most unattainable men. It was a hobby of hers. She would find the one guy in the room with baggage the size of an elephant and mummy issues to boot, and she’d sniff him out like a bloodhound. A scandal-shrouded Football player definitely fell into that category.
‘Okay,’ Rosie whispered. ‘He’s turned away. Take a peak.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘If he’s turned around, how will I see him?’
Rosie rolled her eyes again as if I was being deliberately obtuse and shoved my arm, forcing me to turn in the opposite direction.
Trying to make it look as casual as possible, which was difficult when you had a crazy blonde woman clinging to your arm, bouncing like an excitable puppy. I cast my eyes on the two guys huddled in the corner, their faces pressed close together like they didn’t want anyone to pay them attention. The guy on his left, I didn’t recognise but couldn’t deny he was an impressive-looking man. His shoulders were practically bulging out of his jacket. And the scruffy beard, mixed with his floppy hair, was the pièce de résistance to his cowboy look.
I almost completely forgot who my intended target was until he turned around…
Fuck.
My eyes widened. Swinging back around to Rosie, I shook my head furiously.
This couldn’t be happening. What had I done in a former life to deserve such punishment? I wasn’t overly religious, but right now, I had a strong urge to curse out my maker for what was about to be the most embarrassing moment of my life. And I had a fair few to choose from.
Seeing my distress, Rosie frowned.
‘I know it’s not his looks…’ she said in a low voice, ‘ So what’s up?’
‘Toilet guy. That’s the guy from yesterday.’ I hissed, placing my wine on the counter because it was in danger of shattering all over the dubiously stained carpet of the pub. Why did pubs even have carpets anymore? Surely it was some sort of health hazard.
Yeah, because that’s the thing to focus on right now, you idiot!
Realisation dawned on Rosie’s face, along with one of my least favourite of my friend’s facial expressions.
I grabbed her arm, lowering my voice. ‘Don’t youfucking dare.’
I knew it was a lost cause as soon as the words came out of my mouth. Her eyes shone with mischief. Nothing would stop Rosie when she got something in her head.
So, in a quiet pub, Rosie called out in a loud voice to a person she had never met:
‘Toilet guy!’
I was going to kill her.
6
OLIVER
Aquiet drink. That’s what my brother had promised.
George had dragged me out after my first shift at the nursery—I still found it weird calling it that—and promised me one drink in a pub not in the centre of London, with no TV and minimal chance of being recognised. I thought about it for all of five seconds before agreeing. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to my house. The hollow space, now clean thanks to George, was a gut-wrenching reminder of the past. I couldn’t go from one room to another without being assaulted by memories. Soft skin, roaming hands and laughter that still echoed around my brain. Although, now that laughter was mocking.Taunting.
