“Have you ever seen him? As in, no clothes?” I was well aware I shouldn’t be asking those sorts of questions. Amber was a professional, and I knew she kept to those boundaries.
With the exception of bumping uglies with my brother in her treatment room at the club. That nugget of information had slipped out of his mouth, not hers.
“He’s covered with tattoos, and he works out. A lot. His body fat’s seriously low and he knows how to train so his body is all that, but because he’s an older player he’s filled out more, like Nate. Jesse doesn’t need to be as quick now because he’s got Nicky on the wing to do the running, but he’s quick at reading the game and knowing where that ball is going to drop, or where the defender’s going to go. But you weren’t asking about his football skills, were you?” Her giggle made her sound young.
“Kind of. I know how good he is. He’s the team’s target man to get the ball to because he’ll convert a good assist into a goal, and he’s the target man for defenders too.” I knew enough about football to write books on it, which I was doing, although the balls I wrote about mainly weren’t made of leather. “His body’s cut.”
“I think he’s carrying a decent-sized weapon too, because you do see stuff when you’re knocking about. You might find out. If you do, you can tell me all about it.” Her smile was dirty. ‘And I promise I won’t return the favour and tell you about Nate’s.”
“I saw my brother’s junk when our parents made us bathe together as kids, and I’m scarred from that.” I rolled my eyes. I needed no further information. “Does Dee ever share?”
“When she’s drunk. Then, she doesn’t shut up. We should invite them over — Genny, Neva, and Dee for afternoon tea. A boozy one, for you lot anyway.” Amber put both her hands on her stomach. “And when Oliver’s made his debut, I’m going to rediscover wine.”
“You’re sticking with Oliver?”
She nodded. “We are. Oliver Morris. Unless he doesn’t look like an Oliver, in which case I have no idea.”
“Nate’s just over the moon and thrilled. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as happy as this. Ever.” Even with Chan, I hadn’t seen my brother so damn content and satisfied. When he looked at Amber, especially when the girls were sat with her, he looked like the cat that had all the cream.
Amber tried to hide her smile, but it bloomed anyway. “I think I know the feeling. I didn’t ever expect to be this happy. I just hope we get through the next few months and the birth goes well. Then life will get really wild for a while.” She gazed at her bump and then looked back at me. “Are you going to go to France with Jesse?”
I nodded. I’d thought about it some since this morning. “I think so. It’s my only chance to have a holiday and I love France, so —”
“You can find out all the secrets about our brooding star striker.”
“Arguably, that’s Ryan O’Connor. He scored one more goal than Jesse last season and played fewer games.” I was a geek. I could list stats about the team off the top of my head.
“Mention that to Jesse. See what he says.”
I grinned. I might just do that.
CHAPTER5
Jesse
I wasn’tsure that I was going to enjoy having a driver who liked pointing out to me that my goals per game average was less than my partner’s. When pressed, she suggested that I’d missed five opportunities to score goals with my head. When I pressed back, she told me which matches these were and whether it was the first or second half.
I didn’t ask my driver, also known as Jerrica the Football Analyst, in for a coffee when she dropped me off, but I did enjoy telling her that I needed picking up for a training session at seven-thirty the next day.
I laid in my bed, staring up at my ceiling, trying not to think about Jerrica in her booty shorts exercising this morning.
Was it only this morning? It felt like three weeks ago. I was a hundred grand lighter after buying a car I couldn’t drive, and I had a boner for a woman I couldn’t touch. My training session with her brother had reinforced exactly why I couldn’t touch as well.
Jerrica’s been messed about by men.
Jerrica’s finding her feet with what she wants to do. I really hope she can stay focused on this.
Jerrica’s really talented at writing; this is what she wants to do. I just hope it works out for her.
Thanks for this, Jesse. I know you’ll look after her. I can see you being really good friends.
Friends didn’t stare at each other the way I’d eaten up Jerrica with my eyes this morning. They didn’t wonder about how soft their skin would feel under calloused fingers, or how their hair would look spread over a pillow.
Those were the tame thoughts. I didn’t need any of my edgier thoughts to get as hard as I was now.
I didn’t need a psychologist to tell me why I enjoyed the things I did, such as punishing myself through needing to maintain control over almost every aspect of my life. As a kid, I lived all over. My grandma’s house in Hackney, my cousin’s house in Knowsley, the uncle of my mum’s new ‘friend’ in Cardiff — and there was a reason he agreed I could stay for a summer. When I worked out what that reason was, I stole his wallet and left, managing to get to my aunt in Coventry without being stopped. I’d been eleven.
At fifteen, I was sofa surfing on friends’ couches, working all sorts of jobs to pay for football boots and kit and to stay out of the care system, because that experience hadn’t been good either.
