“You say that to all your boyfriends, Gwen?” Dara adds, waggling his brows before he takes a sip of his beer.
“I only date guys with big cocks, so, no.” She fake preens at Dara as I catch one of the women frowning in our direction.
“Can we keep the conversation PG, please. There are a couple of kids in the room,” I say in a low tone.
Gwen turns her head, staring the woman down.
“Stop that,” I hiss, moving my body so I’m blocking her view of the woman. “Don’t start shit with any of the players’ wives.”
We met everyone in the players’ lounge when we first arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves. It’s a pity Joel’s wife couldn’t come today, but I’m glad Dara is here. He’s already met some of the players and their partners, and he introduced us. Most of the wives and girlfriends were lovely, but a few were a little aloof.
I wasn’t sure what to wear to the game. Callan said to wear whatever I wanted, but he’s a man, and they’re generally clueless. It’s my first visit to the stadium, my first time watching my boyfriend in action, and I’m aware there will be eyeballs on me. I didn’t want to be too dressed up—it is a football game after all—but I didn’t want to look like I’d made no effort either, so I settled on jeans, a long-sleeved black silk blouse that ties at the neck into a bow, and black high heels. My hair is long and wavy, and I’m wearing a little makeup.
I was glad to see some of the other women in jeans too. A few of them are very dressed up, and I wonder if I should’ve made more of an effort. Then again, Gwen has that boxed off with her white minidress, skyscraper heels, and a full face of makeup. Herhair is styled into glossy curls that bounce as she walks. I was going to suggest it was a little over the top, but I bit my tongue. If it makes her feel good to dress up for the match, what business is it of mine to tell her she can’t?
“She’s looking at me like I’m trash,” Gwen says through gritted teeth.
“She’s a snob.” Dara glances at the woman in question. “Don’t let her get to you, and Astrid is right. Don’t cause trouble for Callan, Gwen.” He drills her with a warning look.
“Look, the game is starting.” I tug on her arm, drawing her attention to the field down below us. I’m loving that the box has a glass window so we’re protected from the weather because it’s currently drizzling, and I’m glad I’m not outside. We still have a great view from here, and there’s a large-screen TV at the back of the space showing the match.
We settle down to watch the game, and I chat with a couple of the younger women when I switch seats with Dara. We’re all up on our feet when Callan scores an amazing goal from an overhead kick to put us in the lead. Dara and I hug, jumping up and down, whooping and hollering.
At halftime, Callan’s goal is all everyone is talking about. I grab some food and a fresh sparkling water before reclaiming my seat for the second half. Callan’s buddy Joel scores a fantastic goal from near the halfway line, ten minutes before the end of the game, and our team leaves the field the winners, having beaten their legacy rivals two goals to nil.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Callan says after the match, pulling me into his body for a kiss.
“You were amazing. You belong out there.”
“I knew you were watching, and I wanted to impress you.” He presses his hand to my lower back.
“I’m impressed every time you set foot on a football field. You’re a natural, babe.”
Callan kisses me again, only breaking apart when some of the other players tease us as they leave the dressing room. Callan introduces me and Gwen to some of the players, and we chat with Joel for a few minutes before we leave.
That night, we go out for dinner and end up in a club in Central London in the VIP area. Gwen makes out with some minor celebrity from a reality TV show, and it’s all she’s talking about on the way home. Dara snuck off with some hot blonde, and I don’t think we’ll be seeing him until the morning.
Callan is all over me the second we enter our bedroom, and it’s a frenzy as we shed our clothes and crash into the bed naked. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he says, driving into me at a frantic pace. “I can’t wait for you to move here.”
“I know, babe.” I pant, grabbing handfuls of his ass as he fucks me.
We screw for hours, making good on last night’s promise, and I fall asleep in his arms, more content than I ever remember feeling.
The week goes by in a flash, and I hate how that happens when you really want things to slow down. Callan is busy with training and other club stuff on Monday and Tuesday, so Gwen and I explore the tourist sights and go shopping. Callan gave me a bank card, telling me to buy whatever I want. Despite Gwen’s active encouragement, I don’t go crazy, not wanting to abuse my boyfriend’s generosity.
Gwen is grumpy when Callan whisks me away Wednesday morning, but I remind her I’ll only be gone until the morning, and there is plenty she can do to amuse herself. Callan has stocked the fridge and the cupboards, and he kindly left cash if she wants to order delivery later. His team doesn’t have a mid-week match this week, and his manager gave him the day off.
Getting twenty-four hours all to ourselves is bliss. “I wish I could’ve taken you to Ireland,” Callan says as he drives us into Central London. “It would’ve been way too rushed though.”
I lift his free hand and bring it to my mouth, dusting kisses across his knuckles. “You can take me during the summer. I can’t wait to see where you grew up and to meet your nan.”
“She’s dying to meet you.”
“I can’t wait to taste her barmbrack.”
Callan chuckles. “You and cake.”
I giggle as I glance briefly out the window. “You know, I was a little worried I might not like London, but I love the city. It’s so vibrant and eclectic, and I can totally see myself living here.”
