‘When am I ever anything but?’ Jenna replies. ‘I sent a very sweet text to let him know where he stands with us. He won’t be bothering you again. Blonds are always evil, we should’ve known.’
They don’t have all the details, only an abbreviated version of the story, but it was enough for Jenna to swear a blood oath against him and for Alice to make a note to pick up the supplies for a guitar-wielding voodoo doll next time she’s in town.
Mrs Taylor left right after the game, thrilled to be there for her son but just as keen to check into her hotel and change as soon as it was done. She definitely doesn’t seem like the student bar type. When I put her in an Uber, she made me promise I’d join her and Ethan for dinner. I said yes but I reckon they’re going to need some time to themselves. She might not have said much during the game but it was impossible to not notice all the quiet tears that streaked down her face. Seems to me they have a lot to talk about.
Michael and Ethan are taking too long. Shower, change, celebrate, that’s the official order of things, right? It’s been over an hour since the end of the game and the crowd in the bar is getting antsy but not nearly as antsy as me. What if he ran into Oliver? What if they got into a fight? What if … no. No catastrophizing. Not that Ethan and his teammates beating Oliver to a pulp would truly count as a catastrophe.
A roar goes up when the front door opens and we all shoot up to our feet, Jenna scrambling up onto the leather banquette for a better view.
‘It’s the team but I don’t see Ethan.’ She pushes up onto her toes, steadying herself with one hand on top of Alice’s head. ‘Or Michael.’
‘That’s because we came in through the back.’
Jenna screams when Michael appears in front of her, losing her balance and falling into his arms.
‘That kind of catch is why Harchester United want this guy at their academy.’
Ethan and Assad are by his side and my mouth goes dry at the sight of Ethan Taylor, damp hair, green eyes and a smile I will never get tired of as long as I live.
‘You got the academy spot?’ Jenna shrieks as Michael releases her back into the booth. ‘Are you fucking serious?’
‘Be a weird thing to lie about.’
He shrugs like he doesn’t care but he’s grinning when she grabs hold of his face and peppers it with kisses. Alice nudges me under the table, and I bite my lip, pretending I didn’t see.
‘And technically incorrect,’ he adds. ‘I gotanacademy spot. Isn’t that right, co-captains?’
Assad and Ethan exchange a cocky look and Jenna pummels Michael in the arm
‘All three of you? Fuck yes, Hemden!’
‘Fuck yes, Hemden!’
Everyone raises their drinks and a cheer that starts at our table spreads around the room like wildfire. The music gets loud, the lights turn low and all at once, Members is alive.
‘Hey.’ Ethan places a hand on my shoulder and I melt. ‘Can we talk?’
With a nod, I slide out of the booth, following him across the dance floor and out of the back door. He keeps going a short way and neither of us says anything, not until we reach one of the benches underneath a light post. Ethan sits down and I hover in front of him for a beat before doing the same. Why am I suddenly so nervous? ‘Can we talk’ doesn’t match what he said right before the game. Nothing good ever came from someone starting a sentence with ‘can we talk’.
‘Congratulations on the academy,’ I say, something to fill the silence. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
He looks proud and I think about the version of him I saw in the locker room only a couple of hours ago, the teary eyes, the slumping shoulders, all the blame he’s been carrying these last few months. He should be proud. I’m proud to know him.
‘Thanks.’ He leans forward, forearms on his thighs. ‘Sorry I took so long, we had to talk some stuff over with the scouts and I promised I’d call Chris as soon as the game was over. He’s psyched. Says he’s flying over to watch me play against the first team if I make the squad.’
‘Whenyou make the squad.’
It’s cold out tonight. Not cool or crisp but truly cold. The weather hasn’t recovered after a week of rain and Ethan notices I’m shivering before I do. He takes off his jacket, the same blue one I borrowed before, and drapes it around me. It smells the same, just like his pillows, just like his T-shirt. It smells like him. I close my eyes and breathe it in, waiting for him to speak, more nervous than I can even admit to myself.
‘Mia, I know things can’t go back the way they were,’ he says finally, gooseflesh prickling his bare arms. ‘And I’m sorry.’
He’s sorry? He’s sorry. The nervous jitters in my stomach plummet through the floor, taking all my internal organs with them.
‘Don’t be.’
I pull his jacket close to my body. The night is still and quiet, the music from Members muffled, and I don’t know how to feel.
He’s sorry.
