She has a point. If I had said anything to Breanna back then, it would have only made her target Willow even more.
“You know, my life was so much simpler before our parents’ marriage. I may not have been popular, but at least I could fly under the radar. I never asked to be subjected to the insecurities of your jealous ex.”
My eyes widen, not expecting her outburst. “Breanna was many things, but she was never jealous,” I grind out.
If she was, maybe she never would have cheated on me.
Willow makes a dismissive noise. “Keep telling yourself that. Did you ever wonder why your biology lab partner transferred to another class? Or why Arianna Symmons transferred to BHU after she outbid Breanna at the charity auction during our first year?Being associated with you was like a death sentence when you were dating Breanna. Imagine what it was like because I lived with you, through no fault of my own.”
Ouch.“I think you’re exaggerating. She wasn’t that bad.”
All I get is a roll of her eyes. “Of course you would defend her.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering why the hell we’re talking about my ex, a woman I haven’t even spoken to in two years.
“I’m not defending her. I’m just…” I trail off, unsure what I’m doing. “Look,” I say as I pull into a park in front of the restaurant and kill the engine, “I’m sorry it’s such a fucking hassle living with me. It’s not like you ever speak to me, let alone tell me what’s going on. I can’t be held responsible for something I didn’t know was happening. If it means anything, dating Breanna was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Willow shrugs before unbuckling her seatbelt. “Whatever. It’s in the past.” Without another word, she climbs out of the car and closes the door behind her.
I rest my head on the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever I’m about to walk into. It’s hard to concentrate with the lingering scent of vanilla and water lilies, and all I can think about is my angel.
Fuck! When did I allow myself to get so caught up with pussy that I’m considering driving off, despite being curious to know what news Felix has about my football future. Except my angel’s not just pussy, she’s fucking perfection. The way she makes me feel when I’m on myknees for her. The way she sees me for me, and not the Beckford U football star.
I climb out of the car with a deep sigh, running a hand through my hair when I realise that Willow didn’t wait for me.
When I step into the warmth of the restaurant, the owner rushes forward to shake my hand, gushing on about our perfect season. I manage to excuse myself after a couple of minutes, and cross the floor to the table in the middle of the room, nodding to the diners who call out in greeting.
Of course, my father had to make sure we’re sitting where everyone can see us.
I grind my teeth as I slide into the chair next to Willow, with my father directly across from me. Felix sits at the head of the table between us, and I hope he’s ready to play referee in the arguments that are sure to arise. At least he’s distracting my father, giving me a moment to breathe.
When the waiter comes to take our orders, Gwendoline frowns across the table at Willow, who orders a pasta dish. “Do you really think you should have carbs at this time of night, darling?” she asks in a passive-aggressive tone. “Maybe a salad would be more appropriate.”
Willow flushes and lowers her face.
My jaw tightens. “If she wants the pasta, she can order the pasta.”
Her wide blue eyes flash to mine before she drops them to the table again. “The Mediterranean salad is fine,” she murmurs, and I loathe the look of satisfaction on her mother’s face.
“Bring an extra serve of the tortellini as well,” I tell the waiter, who nods at my request.
Once he disappears back to the kitchen, I clear my throat, eager to get this dinner over and done with as soon as possible.
“So, what’s the news that couldn’t wait?” I ask Felix.
If he feels any of the awkward tension currently stealing all the oxygen from my lungs from being forced to endure this public attempt of showboating on George Whitford’s behalf, he doesn’t show it.
“You’ve had a standout season this year. It hasn’t gone unnoticed,” he says with a grin.
I simply nod in acknowledgement and spread my palms indicating for him to continue and ignore Dad narrowing his eyes at my indifference. It’s always been a dream to play at the highest level, but all of a sudden, I’m feeling like even making an A-league team won’t get me out from underneath George Whitford. He’ll always be in the background riding on my coattails.
Felix’s grin only widens as he continues. “We’ve obviously had quite a lot of interest from the A-league, but yesterday, my office received a phone call I knew would come one day.”
I try to summon up the right level of enthusiasm to match his, but all I can manage is a slight curl of my mouth. “Oh, yeah?”
“Middlesbrough.” He sits back and rests his hands behind his head, his grin now a full-blown smirk.
My father chokes on his scotch. “M-Middlesbrough,” he coughs. “As in the Championship league?”
