On Loverose Lane (Return to Dublin Street #1)

11. Callan

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CALLAN

I t’s hard to describe how it feels to run down a football pitch with the sound of blood pumping in your ears and thousands of voices chanting, “He’s slick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen, Callan Keen!”

The high is incredible. It always propelled me down the field, my feet and brain in sync as I controlled the ball, dribbling and weaving out of the Leith players’ attempts to tackle. The voices of the fans, their belief in me, like a fucking drug turning me into that force they said I was.

Seeing Kaito open, I kicked the ball and he caught it, had to tackle it back off a Leith center forward, and then immediately booted it in an arc toward John. The Leith defender couldn’t get to him in time, and John powered the ball into the back of the net as the opposing team goalie dove the wrong way.

The stands went wild as Botan jumped into my arms to celebrate the goal. That too. There was nothing like the sound of fans losing their minds when you scored. It was uproarious. Deafening. You could feel the sound vibrating like a drum in your chest, it was that loud.

The whistle sounded, ending the game.

Final score: 3–1 to Caley United.

“Well done, lads!” I shouted as I walked into the locker room.

The team cheered back at me.

They were absolutely buzzing with the win, but John’s smile was subdued … he seemed off, considering he’d scored two of the three goals. “You all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Good game.” He turned away from me.

I glanced over at Baird to find him watching. He had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Before I could ask him if he knew what was up, the gaffer and Sven walked into the room.

We quieted as Brian grinned at us. “Now that’s more like it.”

Whistles, shouts, and curses lit the air with electric excitement.

Brian gestured for us to quiet. “Take tomorrow off. Recuperate. Celebrate, but not too much. You’re back in here Tuesday and we’re going to train hard for our game against Strathmore next week. We’re taking nothing for granted.”

Strathmore United hadn’t played well their last two games.

“Nothing motivates a team more than loss. They’ll be coming for us.”

We nodded.

“Good game, lads. You’re really starting to play like a team, and it shows. Keep it up. See you Tuesday.”

As the coaches filed out and our teammates wandered off to the showers, my attention returned to John.

Baird clapped me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow … let’s grab dinner and a beer.” He jerked his chin in John’s direction as the Canadian wandered toward the shower room, oblivious, lost in his own thoughts.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s the anniversary of his mum’s passing tomorrow.”

Fuck.

John had told us on a drunken night out last year that his mum died of cancer three years ago. The loss had put a strain on his and his father’s relationship because his dad had completely fallen apart. John had accepted the position on Caley only two months later. I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. “He played well, then.”

“Aye. He pulled himself together long enough to get through it. I cannae imagine that, man.” Baird looked pained thinking on the idea of losing his mum.

Unfortunately, I didn’t need to imagine it. “It’s fucking brutal.”

My friend clapped me on the shoulder in sympathy. “He knows you get it. Think it helps.”

“It’s the one club I wish we weren’t both a member of.” I grabbed my toiletries out of my locker. “Let’s hit the Orchard tomorrow. We’ll get some peace there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

We had to convince John to come out with us the next evening, but it didn’t take long with some beer and pub grub in his belly for his mood to lift a bit. We’d taken my four-by-four and left it parked at my flat, because the bar-restaurant was only a ten-minute walk from my place.

I pretended not to notice Beth’s car in the car park when we left. Could have sworn she said she had a date with some computer prick tonight.

The bar sat in the middle of the floor plan, with tables and chairs skirting the edges of the room on one side and more tables and chairs up a wee set of stairs at the front so diners could sit at the windows and watch the world pass by. We took three stools at the bar.

When we’d first sat down and ordered food, I’d turned to John and told him we could talk about it if he wanted. He said he was grateful, but he didn’t want to. Not today. We’d sat on a corner of the bar to make an L-shape so conversation was easier. A few folks had recognized us, including the bartender (who offered to keep a free-drinks tab open for us), and had come over to congratulate us for yesterday’s game. But otherwise, we were left alone to chat among ourselves. About the game. About a girl John had gone on an unheard-of fourth date with. About the castle Baird and I wanted to buy but couldn’t because Braden Carmichael still wouldn’t meet us.

We were so lost in conversation that I hadn’t seen her come into the bar.

The flash of long blond hair and the certain way she walked drew my attention as she approached the lower end of the bar. The bartender grinned flirtatiously at Beth Carmichael as she ordered. I watched her glance over her shoulder, following her gaze to a bloke who sat at a nearby table, his eyes glued to her.

Fuck.

She was on her date.

Here.

She tucked her hair behind her ear as she turned back to wait for the drinks. Who sent a woman to the bar to buy the drinks? Call me old-fashioned, but … no. I didn’t even properly date and I wouldn’t dream of making her pay.

“Earth to Keen.” John waved a hand in front of my face and I blinked rapidly, as Beth looked up the bar and locked eyes with me.

Her lips parted in surprise and then she scowled, looking away.

“What are you staring at …” Baird turned to follow my gaze. His face lit up. “Beth!”

Oh fuck.

Just like that, her expression transformed as she beamed that gorgeous smile Baird’s way. “Long time, no see, stranger!”

Baird hopped off his stool, abandoning his food, a rarity in itself. “Come give me a hug, friend.” His voice boomed around the bar.

Beth laughed but pushed off the bar to walk into his arms like they were in fact old friends.

My pulse hammered as I watched them talk, this time their voices too quiet to be heard.

John nudged me. “You ever going to tell us how you know her?”

Unable to drag my eyes off Beth, I shrugged. “I know her from another life.”

“And you hate the beautiful, funny blond?” He seemed dubious.

“Not hate. Just don’t care either way.”

“Is that why you can’t take your eyes off her and look like you want to stab Baird with a butter knife?”

Forcing myself to look away, I met John’s stare. “She’s not what you think.”

John studied me and then nodded, letting it drop.

A few seconds later, Baird returned to his stool, grinning like an idiot. Beth had grabbed her drinks and returned to her date, who was now shooting glances our way. I decided he definitely looked like a prick.

“She had to return to her date.” Baird shrugged like a big puppy, happy to have gotten some attention at least. “He looks like a prick. She can do well better than that.”

My annoyance at my mate ebbed a bit.

“You might want to stop staring at them like a psycho,” John advised.

Shite.

I looked at Baird. “Gonna stop trying to be friends with her?”

“Nope.” Baird grinned. “She’s my long-lost sister from another mister. We’ve decided.”

I supposed I should be relieved he didn’t want to sleep with her.

“I gave her my number. We’re going to hang out.”

“Why?” I practically barked, somewhat panicked at the thought.

“Eh, because unlike you, I can be friends with a woman.”

“I can be friends with a woman,” I disagreed. Beth and I were once friends. Okay, so I was a horny seventeen-year-old who wanted to be her first and last, but we were still friends.

Until we weren’t.

“Just … not her. All right?”

My big friend cocked his head in thought. “Awright … if you tell me why.”

I glowered over at Beth as she laughed at something her date said. My gut twisted. “We went to school together. She … she’s not a good person.”

Baird’s chin jerked back in surprise. “That doesn’t seem right.”

Angry now, I spat, “You asked. I told. Now drop it. And delete her from your phone.”

Looking past me to John, Baird raised an eyebrow. “Is it me, or doth the lady protest too much?”

John gave a loud bark of laughter. And it was only because he’d made our friend laugh on a shitty day that I didn’t chuck Baird’s beer in his face. “It’s Kaito’s birthday next week. We should do something. He must be missing his family.”

Thankfully, the subject change worked. There was nothing Baird enjoyed more than a chance to throw a party.

As we chatted, I was hyper fucking aware of Beth and her date. I tried not to look, but I could see them in my periphery anytime I looked at Baird.

I saw them as they got up and walked out of the bar, and I turned to watch the prick hold the door open for her, his eyes glued to Beth’s perfect arse as she walked ahead of him. My stomach twisted as they disappeared out of sight, and I ordered another beer.

But only to celebrate the win, of course.