“The new uniforms are class,” Ekon says from my left. “Did you design them?”
I gulp down a sip of my now room temperature hard seltzer. “No, I uh—” the music's gotten louder since arriving, forcing me to lean slightly into him to answer the question. “I had the social media coordinator post a submission form for fans to send in their ideas. I brought the winner in, gave them a tour of the stadium before we collaborated on the final design. They got paid for their input and season tickets.” Both the men look at me with shock written across their handsome faces.
“You did all that in just a few weeks?” I nod.
“That’s mental.” Wonder laces Finn’s tone.
Embarrassment floods through me, but I’m saved from having to respond, from having to accept their praise, when the magic show of horrors pulls our focus.
Lottie stands next to Connor in the middle of the room, a look of severe apprehension on her lovely face as more people gather around them. A moment later, Connor snakes his arm around her waist, and she squirms, attempting to ease out of his hold. His hand only tightens as he draws her further into his side, an arrogant smile stretching across his face.
“Let go.” Lottie pushes against him, but he just grins fiendishly down at her as he crowds her space.
“On with it, Davies.” I scold.
His jaw ticks in response, but the smug smile never leaves. Finally releasing his hold on Lottie, Connor backs up just a little and starts looking at her profile. “What’s that?”
She touches her pale pink hair. “What?”
“That.” He reaches out, grabbing something behind her ear, and when he pulls his hand away, there’s something silver and shiny between his fingers. At first, I think it’s a coin, but as he starts to wave it in the air I realize it’s the foil packet of a condom.
“What do you say we make some magic of our own?” He steps toward her, and she recoils, stepping back until she bumps into Cavan Darcey. He stands still as a statue, hands in his pockets, towering over Connor with a deep scowl lining his face. The contrast of Lottie in front of him, looking dainty and ethereal, casts his features in an even more dramatic sense of foreboding.
Lottie looks up at him, but he doesn’t spare her a glance as he shoots daggers at Connor. “Piss off.”
“Relax, mate. It’s just a little banter.”
Cavan remains stoic and silent, staring him down until he relents and walks away, muttering expletives. Lottie turns to say something, but Cavan’s already walking away without a word.
Undeterred, Lottie shrugs and makes her way back over to me. “That was weird. Come with me to get another drink?”
I squeeze myself out from between the two large players, standing unsteadily in my heels. “Do you guys want another?” I ask Ekon and Finn.
Finn tips his cup to me. “No can do. Cap’s got a one drink rule this close to a match.”
When I look around, I notice that half the players are holding bottles of water. “The guys are okay with that?”
“Some of the younger lads get a little annoyed, but theyknow it’s for the best, and they respect Tieran enough to listen.”
Something in my chest lifts. I wonder if he realizes how much these men care about him—trust him.
Lottie grabs my hand, pulling me through the throngs of people to get to the kitchen, but the bar area is crowded with bodies, and we’re not having any success getting through.
“Maybe we should just wait until it empties over here?” I suggest.
She pouts. “Dammit all to hell, I really wanted a—” Her words are cut off as a corded, deeply tanned forearm snakes in between our bodies, holding a drink out to her. “…Vodka soda.” We look over and see Cavan at the other end of the drink, his arm flexing slightly as Lottie takes it. Before she can say anything, he’s walking away again.
She takes a sip of the beverage and looks over to where Cavan has retreated over to Myles and Tieran. “How did he know I wanted a vodka soda?” she muses.
I suspect I know why, but I’m not getting involved. I’m alreadytooinvolved with the people on this team.
“Do you want another?” she asks, but I shake my head. I’m still nursing my first and have no intention of drinking more. Being here was already against my own rules; bringing more alcohol into it was not a wise move. “Let’s go join the others.”
She grabs my arm and starts dragging me toward a group of people in the far corner of the flat. When we sidle up next to Cavan, he stiffens slightly, nodding when Lottie thanks him for her drink. Myles stands behind Aanya, his arms wrapped around her stomach as he rests his head on the top of hers. And on the opposite end is Tieran, and a beautiful redhead hanging on his arm and standingveryclose, laughing at something he just said.
A pang of annoyance hits me square in the gut.
“I’m going to come with you to the next match,” Aanya announces, drawing my attention away from the attractivecouple. “It’s time I come support my man as much as he’s supported me.”
