The car park is already fuller than usual with it being championship week. Training’s been ramped up, more sessions, longer hours, more pressure, more expectation, and normally I thrive on it. Normally it’s exactly where I want to be. But today… Today I’m distracted.
I grab my bag and head inside, the familiar noise of the changing room hitting me straight away, music playing too loud, lads shouting over each other, someone already arguing about a tackle from last weekend. Normal.
Noah clocks me the second I walk in.
“About time,” he says, tossing me a towel. “Thought you’d retired.”
“Tempting,” I mutter, pulling my shirt off.
He watches me for a second. Then smirks. “You’ve been quiet this week.”
“Been busy.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “You’ve beenthatkind of busy.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t.”
“No, seriously,” he continues, leaning back against the lockers. “Missed training, dodging messages, walking around like someone I don’t know.”
I pause. Because he’s not wrong. There’s no point pretending with him.
“There is… someone,” I say.
His eyebrows shoot up. “No way.”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
I hesitate for a second. I don’t usually mix these worlds. Oakwood stays separate. But this doesn’t feel separate anymore.
“Freya,” I say.
He frowns. “Freya…?”
“She lives in Oakwood. I’ve known her since we were kids.”
Recognition hits. “The school mum?”
“Yeah.”
“The one with the little boy that you go back to visit?”
I nod. He stares at me for a second. Then breaks into a grin. “You are joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Rory Bennett,” he laughs. “Falling for a school mum. I love this.”
“Don’t,” I mutter, grabbing my shorts.
“No, this is brilliant,” he continues. “You’ve been hiding this?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to jinx it.”
