“Literally what I’ve been saying this whole time.” But I squeeze back. It’s been our little ritual since we were tiny. A check-in.Are you okay? — I’m okay.
Her words aren’t as kind. “Shut up.” But her slap against my arm lacks conviction and for whatever reason, it finally seems to sink in. “No more women. Okay.” She nods slowly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. We look nothing alike except for our colouring, and I’ve always thought it’s kind of fun. Now, though, that strand of hair has me worried. Because Clara is thinking.Hard.
“It’s okay,” she finally says. So gently, like she’s trying to soothe me. “I get it. No more women, that’s fair.”
Silence fills the air between us as I wait for the other shoe to drop. This is too good to be true.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she says eventually and smiles softly. “One more date.”
I bloody knew it! Enraged, I sit up, but she stifles my protest before I can even voice it.
“I’ll make it different for you, okay? See if you enjoy it that way. If you don’t, I’ll step away.” She raises both hands defensively, as if to prove her point. “How does that sound?”
My ideal scenario would be no more dates, zero, zilch. But I guess one is better than a dozen, so I sigh and give in. Like I always do. “Okay, fine. One more. But afterwards you’ll shut up about it, no matter how it goes.” I know exactly how it will go, and I think she does too, but there’s no point bringing it up now. “And after that, it’s done. You leave me alone, no more blind dates, nothing.”
Clara nods solemnly. “I’ll support you in whatever you do,” she says, “even if you decide to stay abstinent forever. Whatever makes you happy.”
I don’t rise to her bait, instead I sigh and leave it at that. “Fine.”
Clara beams, and something heavy settles in my stomach. I know that smile. It means she’s already plotting something, and I’ve walked right into it.
CHAPTER 2
Marlon
All right,Marlon. You can do this.I stare up at theKing’s Head’s pub sign and steel myself. It’s just a date. One that I had hoped might not happen after all, but it turns out Clara was merely being surprisingly considerate for once and held off while Westfield was going through a rough patch. Right after our first win, she was back with her shenanigans, relentless as ever.
But I can do this. I may have thought about this constantly ever since Clara told me two days ago, but I’m a grown man and a millionaire and I can do this. I can have a date and kiss this unknown woman. Maybe even go further.
People do it all the time. It can’t be that difficult.
The pub isn’t our local, but it’s still in Islington and we’ve been here before. It’s the first time Clara has set my date in a pub, and I wonder if that’s Clara being charitable towards me for once. I'm a lot more at ease here than I do in all those swanky restaurants.
Determined, I push open the door and am immediately engulfed in warm, beer-heavy air. The grizzly-looking barman gives me a nod in greeting and I glance around. I’m early and based on the age of the other patrons, my date isn’t here yet. It’s cosy, all exposed wood beams and brassy appliances, an openfire burning towards the back of the room. My nerves ease a little.
I order a diet coke and a bowl of double-cooked chips. I’m not hungry, necessarily, but it will give me something to do with my hands.
If it were up to Clara, I’d use my hands for other things.
Ugh.
I settle at a small table right next to the fireplace and soak up the warmth. December in London rarely means enjoyable weather and tonight is no different. It’s good to have some reprieve from having to be outdoors all day. Slowly, I sip my coke and take deep breaths. I need to calm down about this whole thing or this will turn into yet another disastrous date.
Some of the women Clara set me up with were clearly mostly into the idea of dating a professional footballer and therefore put up with my stammering, but some didn’t enjoy the show I was putting on for them. I can’t blame them; neither did I.
With this being the last one, maybe I should go out on a high. Make this a good one and be done with it. Ithasto be doable. And maybe losing my virginity will finally remove some of my stress. Because even if Clara had never found out about the whole thing, there is still a certain stigma associated with it. A stigma I don’t buy into, but I also wouldn’t want it to come out and make me the butt of jokes in the dressing room.
But it doesn’t matter. I consciously unclench my jaw and munch on a chip. It’s fine either way. If I already build this night up to be the solution to my problems, it’s doomed to fail. I’ll … take it easy and go with the flow.
Which is the opposite of how I usually approach things, but it can’t hurt to try, surely. I can totally be loose and fun. I shake my shoulders and roll my head, then can’t help myself and double-check that my collarless, light grey shirt still fits well. It’s gettingwarm and I open the buttons at the wrists and push the sleeves back a little. Still relaxed. Still super chill.
I’m about halfway through my food when the pub’s door is suddenly ripped open and everyone in the room looks up. Given that it’s past our agreed meet-up time, I suspect this might be my date, and wow. She certainly seems keen. I quickly wipe my greasy fingers on the napkin and comb through my short hair with my fingers, then put on a welcoming smile.
But instead of a beautiful woman, Freddie walks in.
Freddie Bloom.
My teammate.
