The tension that bunched up her forehead was back. She looked from me to the phone in her lap, shifting awkwardly in my car.
‘Can you just trust me,’ Then, in a voice so soft I could barely hear it, she added, ‘Please?’
I must have been body-snatched because, at that moment, there was no way in hell I would ever refuse anything this woman asked of me.
27
FALLON
Evan plastered on hisprofessional wankersmile that made my skin crawl and let out a half-hearted laugh. ‘I honestly thought Fal was making up stories again when she said the two of you had met.’
My spine stiffened.Again.
As if I created countless false stories in the past. Oliver studied my slumped posture with a knitted brow. His lips thinned in a stiff smile he directed at Evan.
Gushing like a kid meeting their favourite pop idol, Evan kept shifting his feet excitedly. ‘It’s so great to meet you, man. I’m a huge fan.’
Oliver dipped his head. ‘I appreciate that.’
‘I was honestly worried when you got traded to the club, but you played better than ever. It’s too bad this whole thing has gone down. I mean, you gotta go after someone for being with your woman. Show them who’s boss, I get that. Some of these journalists don’t understand what it takes to be a man in this day and age.’
My mouth opened as the urge to gag took over. Did my brother not hear how disgusting that statement was? Itexplained why none of his relationships lasted longer than two months. He had a habit of treating women like accessories at best and, at worst, objects to be owned.
Oliver made no sign that he either agreed or disagreed with Evans’s statement. Still, he held out his hand, which Evan shook with all the enthusiasm of a boy receiving a certificate of achievement award at school, something he would no doubt talk about for years to come.
Oliver shook his hand. Effectively ending the conversation.
‘Thanks for the support.’
Evan beamed. ‘Course, man, anytime. If you need anything else, I’ll happily help you out.’
Oliver stepped past Evan, who seemed frozen in his adoration and held out his hand, gesturing for me to go through the large double doors ahead.
‘I’ll call you later, Fal.’ Evan awkwardly patted me on the shoulder. So unused to showing me any affection, he withdrew his hand quickly and offered me a smile that looked more like a grimace. I stared at him, slightly bewildered.
‘Uh, thanks Evan.’
He wouldn’t call. The less contact we had with each other, the better. I followed Oliver as he walked through the eerily empty stadium, down past all the folded chairs, to the large stretch of green below.
People changed when fame was involved. It’s a story you hear second-hand across the media. People get introduced to fame and fortune, and it corrupts the surrounding relationships. My brother’s two-faced behaviour was a perfect example of why Oliver had such a hard time trusting people. People did nothing but use him for clout or media coverage, so why was I expecting him to open up to me?
He had no reason to trust me, but I was now attached to Oliver. I was writing about him. I was getting close to him;some people would die for this opportunity. Enough to pay thousands, if not millions, of pounds.
Oliver glided down the steps to a large railing separating the stands from the pitch. I reached him, slightly out of breath, and stood beside him. His elbows rested on the metal railing, his hands clasped before him as he stared out onto the green. A hint of longing crossed his features before he schooled it back into his usual expression of indifference.
‘You miss it,’ I said quietly.
A soft smile tugged on his lips. He cocked his head to look at me. His brown hair getting mussed in the gentle breeze. We stared at each other silently for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked away. ‘Your brother is a dick. You know that, right?’
He straightened up, took a few steps away from me, and easily hopped over the railing.
‘You got that from one conversation with him?’ I followed him, eyeing the railing with doubt. There was no way any part of me would be flung over that thing. I would likely get wedged uncomfortably on top of the cold metal, and no one needs that kind of labia burn on a morning.
Hands in his pockets, he stood on the grass, watching me with rising amusement.
‘I have a good bullshit gauge. It was going off like crazy the moment he opened his mouth.’
The bastard wasn’t doing anything to help me. He stood there watching me try to find a way over the railing. I searched quickly, hoping I’d missed some secret latch that would open it up so I could keep some of my dignity. God was not that kind to me.
