Thankfully. Everyone else was too busy basking in the win with their loved ones. “Still.”
“So, your plans for tonight?”
“I think I’m going to be busy.”
“Okay. I’ll cover for you if the others ask where you are—but only if you come out one night next week. I miss seeing you outside of training.”
Guilt flashed through her. She had been neglecting her friends lately in favour of being with Erin. But they had such little time alone together already, she was loath to give too much of it up. “I will. I promise.”
In her pocket, Lia felt her phone buzz. It was likely just her social media going wild, but she still reached for it to check—and froze when she saw the message waiting for her. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Cerys peered back at her. “You got a big media interview lined up, superstar? The BBC calling? Sky Sports? New sponsor? Ooh, is it Nike?”
“No. Something even more astonishing.” Lia flipped her phone around to let Cerys read the screen.
“Holy shit.”
“Told you.”
“Is that actually real?”
Lia read it again, to make sure. But no, that was definitely her stepbrother’s name on the notification.
Hey. Watched your game. You’ve had an amazing season so far. Hope you manage to round it out with another trophy.
Cerys snatched the phone from Lia and squinted at it. “I think he might have been replaced by an alien.”
“I think you might be right. We haven’t spoken in months.”
“Maybe he’s finally realising he’s been a massive prick and that you actually might be better at this whole football thing than him?”
“Maybe.” Lia couldn’t help a sliver of suspicion, too used to Brett’s mind games over the course of her life, but she couldn’t sense any malice in the message. Perhaps they could turn a corner—if his ego had died down over the last few years.
Cerys let her be, and Lia was wondering whether she could duck away for a shower when Maisie bounded to her.
“Hi, Maisie.”
“Hi!” Maisie threw her arms around Lia’s waist and gazed at her with adoring eyes. “You were so good today.”
“You think so?”
“Me and every other person here with eyes. Do you want to come and meet my grandad?”
“Um…” If they weren’t in a room full of people, she wouldn’t have hesitated. But was this where she wanted to meet Erin’s father for the first time? She sought out Erin and found hazel eyes already looking straight at her. Erin inclined her head, the tiniest amount, but it was enough for Lia to notice. To see it as the permission she was desperately seeking. “Okay.”
“Yay!” Maisie pulled her through the throng of people until they reached the rest of the Finches. “Here she is! Grandad, Grandma, this is Lia. She’s the best.”
“The best, huh?” Erin’s father shared her accent, though not her skin tone—the years in Spain had made him tanned. His face creased with wrinkles as he smiled, holding out a hand for her to shake. “Something tells me you aren’t the only member of the family to think that.” His eyes sparkled with amusement, his grip firm around Lia’s hand.
“Dad,” Erin hissed, her cheeks pink.
“What? I’m telling the truth, aren’t I?” He released Lia’s hand and indicated the woman standing beside him. “I’m James, and this is my wife, Isobel.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“And you. We’ve heard an awful lot about you.” Isobel reached out to draw Lia into a hug, seemingly uncaring about the sweaty, sticky mess of her clothes.
The panicked look on Erin’s face eased Lia’s discomfort somewhat—it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one on edge.
