Clara shows up at our training grounds on a Thursday afternoon, grabbing the attention of probably a dozen of my teammates. She does look very pretty in her fitted wool coat and rose-coloured hat, blond hair falling down her back. I jog over to her, a little gross in comparison in my sweaty training gear. “Hey.” I smile, genuinely happy to see her. When she’s not meddlingwith my love life, I love her to pieces. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She smiles back and pushes the strap of her leather messenger bag up her shoulder. “Uni’s done for the week,” she says. “I’m heading out for pho with a couple of my mates, thought you’d like to join us.”
Oh. I’m genuinely taken aback, but in a good way. That’s nice of her. We have a home game tomorrow, so I was planning on a quiet night, but I appreciate her trying to get me out of the house and socialise without making it a huge event. Plus, pho sounds delicious and healthy, always a bonus in my book. “Sure,” I say and wipe sweat off my forehead with my shirt sleeve. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
She glances around me at the rest of my team, clearly in the middle of a session, and I shrug and nod. “Yeah, I’ll probably need another hour or so till I’m done here and changed.”
“And showered, I hope.” She wrinkles her nose playfully, and I bump her upper arm with my fist. She laughs and checks her watch. “That’ll work out perfectly. We were going to grab some drinks first, so you can join us after that and meet us at the restaurant.” The tiniest of pauses, then she adds: “Archie’s brother could pick you up, come to think of it. He’ll be driving, anyway.”
She sounds perfectly casual, but a heaviness settles in my stomach all the same. I’ve known her all my life, and this is clearlynotcasual. “Clara…”
Her smile is too innocent. “What?” she asks, as if butter wouldn’t melt.
We agreed on no more dates, I want to say, but that’s not technically true. This wouldn’t be a blind date, I’ve met Archie and even his brother before.Let me have a hopeless crush for a bit before you try to set me up, would be the truth, but I obviously can’t tell her that. I’d never hear the end of it.
“Clara! Hey!” An all-too-familiar voice comes from behind me, like I’ve conjured him with my thoughts, and I jolt.
Freddie jogs up to me and slings an easy arm around my shoulders. “You look lovely,” he tells my sister, while I do what I can not to tense up at his warm body so close to mine.
“I know.” She grins at him but immediately returns her attention to me. “So we’re good?”
“Coach says we’re not done yet,” Freddie says before I can answer, nodding in the direction of the rest of the team. “Sorry.”
He’s still hugging me. His body is warm and strong against mine.
“Of course!” Clara smiles at him, angelically. “So, Bash will pick you up here in an hour, okay?” she adds in my direction, then flounces off before I can argue.
We watch her leave in silence.
“Who’s Bash?” Freddie asks. His tone is roughly as casual as Clara’s was earlier.
His hand is on my shoulder, big and safe. I know what that hand can do. How gentle it can be. I swallow drily. “A friend of Clara’s,” I say and aim for the same level of casualness. “He’s picking me up to go for dinner.”
Freddie’s grip on my shoulder tightens.
“As a group,” I add hastily. “Not—” Not a date, of course, no matter what Clara thinks. But I don’t need to tell Freddie that. He doesn’t need to know—or even suspect—about the weird fluttery feelings I have sometimes when he’s nearby. We’re just friends. And it must stay that way.
“Ah,” Freddie says when I don’t elaborate further. “Cool. Sounds good.”
His tone suggests he’s not being entirely truthful.
Bash pulls up to the curb in an Audi S6, a ludicrous car to be driving in inner-city London. But I have to admit, it looks nice. I don’t care much about cars, but this one is obviously expensive. And when Bash gets out, yeah, he looks nice, too. Nice and expensive.
He strides around the car to greet me and I get a good look at his body in his tailored suit. It looks expensive and boring, so he’s probably an investment banker or a barrister or something. He’s skinny in a way that suggests he probably runs marathons for fun and has floppy blond hair.
“Marlon, hi.” His accent is every bit as posh as I remember it, but I’m momentarily distracted by his summer-sky-blue eyes and wide smile. I didn’t notice either of those things the last time I saw him. I also didn’t look very closely. He seems genuinely happy to see me. A signet ring gleams on his little finger; he’s exactly the kind of guy my parents always hoped Clara would settle down with.
“Hey.” I return the smile. “Good to see you again.” I let him guide me to the car and open the door for me. It’s nice to be taken care of like that. “Thanks for picking me up.”
Bash gets in and starts the engine. “No problem.” A quick, easy smile, then he focuses on traffic and pulls into the road. “I hear you’re quite the rising star in football, so, you know. It’s an honour.”
I laugh. “Something like that.” He’s probably in his late twenties; I must look like a kid to him.
“I’m more of a cricket man,” Bash continues and glances at me. “But if all footballers look like you, I might reconsider.”
Oh, jeez. I blush and hastily duck my head to hide it. I knew Clara was trying to set us up but having it confirmed like this is still unexpected. And…nice. “Some are even prettier,” I hear myself say. Am Iflirting?
“I find that hard to believe.” He flashes me a grin while he steers us towards Hoxton. Clara and her friends should already be there, at some super trendy Vietnamese place. “But I bet none of them have a sister as convincing as yours.”
