She’ll carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey with the butterknife. She did not like me.
Only because she saw you as a threat.
A threat?
She could tell you wanted me.
Oh could she? Was that before or after I almost stabbed you with a crochet hook?
A crime of passion, to be sure.
Whatever you need to tell yourself.
“What are you smiling at?” Myles' question brings me back to the present.
“Nothing,” I say, placing my phone face down on the bench.
“Oh? So it wasn’t a certain brunette who asked my girlfriend for your address a few weeks ago?”
“Is that how she got it?” The question is an admission, and I realise I basically just confessed to two other players that there is something going on between me and our boss. I glance sidelong at Cavan to gauge his reaction, sure he’ll be reasonable and tell me it's a bad idea.
Instead, he’s smiling softly to himself. “Did you know too?” I ask.
“You look for her during matches, you know,” he says plainly. “It’s like knowing she’s there grounds you.”
Fuck. The fact that he noticed isn’t good. It means someone else could too, and Jade definitely wants to keep this thing between us quiet. “Is it obvious? I mean, obviously, this isn’t something we wan—” He cuts me off.
“Don’t worry. It’s just because I know you so well.” Something else passes over my friend's face, something that looks suspiciously like longing, but I don’t have the chance to ask him about it. Two seconds later, a harried Lottie is bursting through the door to the men’s locker room.
Her eyes are red rimmed and puffy, mascara smeared down her face.
Cavan bursts up out of his seat, taking two steps toward her before he stops, growling low under his breath, “Give me a name.”
I get up, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Settle down, Rambo.” Moving past Cavan, I step toward my sister. “What happened, Charlie?”
One of our stadium security guards launches through the door. “Miss! You cannot come in here. I’m calling the police if you don’t follow me off the premises.”
“It’s okay, Reginald. She’s Tieran’s sister; we’ll handle it,” Myles says. “Sorry for the trouble.”
“Are you okay?” I ask my sister.
“Li—” A shuddering breath expels from her throat, andmy chest constricts with worry. “Liam broke up with me.” Another tear falls down her cheek, and behind me, I hear Cavan shifting in place.
“Did he hurt you?” More sobs. “Charlie, please answer me.”
“No, he didn’t hurt me physically.” Some of the tension leeches out of the room.
“Did he say something to you?” The growl of Cavan’s voice asking the question sets my teeth on edge.
Lottie looks at him for a beat longer than necessary and nods in reply.
“He said—” she starts but breaks off when some of the guys come back from the showers, towels slung low on their hips.
Lottie looks around, eyes red and swollen as they widen in horror. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just barged in here like this and made an absolute arse of myself.”
“You did not,” I rush to console her.
“I did. This is what he was talking about. This is exactly why he broke up with me. I’m so?—”
