“I hate the idea of using strangers.”
Genny clicked her tongue, her way of telling me not to be stupid. “It’s what most other people do. And this isn’t forever – at least we don’t know that yet.”
“You think my sister’s just up and left?”
“No. Yes. Maybe. She’s disappeared before, so this could just be a few days. But she can’t keep doing this. Toby’s a really happy little boy, but at some point he’s going to realise how unreliable his mum is and blame himself.” I heard typing on a keyboard. “Dee, he’s safe. Happy. Let’s talk about this tomorrow or even Wednesday. Go and enjoy yourself tonight.”
It was those words I heard as I joined Izzy, Rose and Abigail in a round of shots as soon as I got to the bar. Pretty much everyone from both squads were there, as well as some of the younger staff, both the managers absent, probably so they didn’t have to witness the carnage that was probably going to happen.
Tomorrow was a training day, but it was a relaxed one: stretch sessions, physio and massage, and some individual programmes which I’d managed to avoid. I wasn’t a big drinker; I could count the number of hangovers I’d had on one hand, the last being more than a year ago.
But tonight I didn’t care about getting a little drunk, or finding a little escape. It was like being at the bottom of a mountain that I didn’t have the equipment ready to climb, and I needed to distract myself for a little while.
“Ready. One. Two. Three!”
The Jaeger bomb hit my throat like paint stripper, the strength of it replaced by burning, the alcohol hitting my nervous system.
“That went down well.” Izzy put her empty shot glass back on the tray. “We need more.”
Rose, one of our midfielders, had already ordered more shots, some of the men’s squad hovering nearby. I saw Rowan looking over, standing with Nate Morris, the first team goalkeeper, at the bar. Rowan lifted his glass up to me, a silentcheers, his usual mocking grin absent.
He’d been different this evening. When he’d overheard me, he hadn’t judged or made condescending remarks. Instead he’d tried to help.
Another shot was pressed to my hand. Another round counting down before I threw the glass back and a sweeter liquid coated my mouth. I put the glass down at the same time as Izzy, but my focus was back on Rowan.
He’d been helpful, not a dick as he usually was. Or so I’d thought.
I walked over to him, his eyes finding me before I was halfway there, and staying fixed on me. My cheeks flushed – the alcohol, probably, and my breaths felt shallower. Again, probably the alcohol.
Rowan was wearing a shirt, plain dark blue, no label. It wasn’t slack, worn to show off his biceps that were all wrong on a footballer, and his trousers couldn’t help but cling around his calves and quads. I pitied the brand; maybe those trousers were gifted in the hope they’d make an appearance on Rowan’s social media, but if they did, they’d be overshadowed by the muscle that was trying to bust out of them.
Not that I was interested in Rowan’s legs.
“Dee, you have another shot!”
Izzy’s shout made me turn round, Izzy practically bouncing towards me with a tray of what looked like more Jaeger bombs.
“We’ve bought a round for everyone!” She sounded far too excited for someone who’d only had a couple of shots so far.
I picked a glass off the tray and watched her bound over to Rowan and Nate. Rowan’s eyes stayed on me, that trademark smirk back there as he picked up a shot, holding it until I got there.
“To what do we owe the honour of your presence?” He held the glass up higher and then downed the liquid.
I followed, this one not tasting as strong. “Just wanted to say thank you for before.”
He raised his brows and looked suspicious. “I’m getting a thank you?”
“No need to be an arse about it.” The patience I’d developed for him snapped like worn knicker elastic.
His laugh was even more annoying. “I’m genuinely surprised you want to thank me. Especially given I didn’t do anything.”
I knew I was glaring. I didn’t want to give the idiot an explanation in front Nate; one, because I didn’t want Nate knowing my business, and two, I didn’t want Nate to think Rowan was a decent bloke.
Might spoil his image.
Nate downed his own shot and looked around the room. “I’m going to leave you two to your lovers’ tiff.”
“We’re not…” But he’d gone before I could finish.
