On Loverose Lane (Return to Dublin Street #1)

44. Callan

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CALLAN

I had to compartmentalize.

With the tabloids running that story about Beth and Erstwhile, my gaffer was concerned my head wasn’t in the game. I had to prove to him and myself that when I walked onto that pitch, everything else but the match fell away.

There were two weeks between our last and next game. In that time, we trained hard. And when I wasn’t with the team, I was with Beth. Although we’d hung out with Baird and John a few times, most of my downtime was spent with only her. That’s why I needed to compartmentalize … because being with Beth was all-consuming. The sex was somehow even better now. I hadn’t thought there were any walls between us in that department, but Beth opened the floodgates, and it was wild, adventurous, and addictive. I couldn’t get enough of the woman. She was willing to try anything with me, and I was high on her.

A sore spot in the last two weeks was her dad moving our meeting again, much to Beth’s frustration. I was also disgruntled but didn’t let her see. There was no way I’d let business come between me and her. Or her parents. Not again. She reckoned he moved the meeting because he wanted to meet me as her father first and not in a business situation. I think I understood, even though it pushed back our plans by weeks.

Another annoyance was Beth taking a video call with Erstwhile. I knew she wanted the bloke as a client, but I’d seen the way he was with her that night at the limo, and I knew when a guy wanted to fuck someone. This guy needed to know that wasn’t on the table with my woman.

Jealousy was something I was still getting a handle on. Especially because Beth was having none of it.

I had to trust her.

And I did.

I didn’t trust Erstwhile and his fucking limo lifestyle.

For the sake of not acting like a possessive wanker, I kept my mouth shut and kept the peace.

“What are you doing?” I asked Beth as we settled into my Defender. Today she was coming to her first Caley United game. That didn’t explain her fiddling about with the computer in my car.

“Connecting my phone. Between you and work, I haven’t had a chance to listen to Lily’s podcast. And I’d like you to hear it.” She shrugged, giving me a smile that shot right between my legs.

I was fucked. Because I had a premonition I would be unable to say no to this woman, from what we listened to in the car, to where we lived, to where we spent our holidays. She only had to smile at me, for fuck’s sake, and I was ready to give her anything. Still, I needed to at least pretend not to be wrapped around her finger. “I don’t know if I’ll like that kind of thing.”

“It’s the podcast I created. It’s got a shit ton of followers. I told you my wee cousin Lily took it over.” She flicked through her phone, her long hair falling across her face. “Just listen to it. For me.”

I absentmindedly reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear and she smiled, and this time, it hit me square in the chest. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, before pulling out of my parking space.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. So, Lily’s your cousin?”

“Well, pseudo-cousin. I told you my parents have this really close-knit friendship group and all of us kids grew up calling our parents’ friends aunt and uncle and each other cousins.”

It sounded nice. A big family like that. Maybe also a pain in the arse. How did you keep up with everyone? I asked the latter out loud.

“With great difficulty lately,” Beth answered. “Maia, who we met at the nightclub?”

“The really bonny lassie Baird fell in love with?”

Beth snorted. “Aye. That’s Maia. She’s my uncle Logan’s daughter. He actually didn’t find out she even existed until she was fifteen. She showed up on his doorstep one day.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Aye, exactly. But Logan started seeing his neighbor,” Beth said, chuckling, “something we know a little about. She’s now my aunt Grace. Anyway, Grace was there for them both and kind of helped bring them together. Maia had a shitty home life with her mum, so she moved in with Uncle Logan and Aunt Grace. They have a wee boy too. My cousin Lachlan. He’s twelve now, which is hard to wrap my head around. Anyway, Maia is technically the oldest of us all, but since she came to us a bit later, I still feel like the eldest. Like I should be the one constantly checking in with everyone to make sure they’re doing okay. And I’m failing miserably.”

I hated her hang-up over this failure nonsense. But I knew it wasn’t nonsense to her, so I could only do so much to remind her she wasn’t failing anyone. “Princess, you’re not responsible for all your cousins. I mean, how many do you have?”

“Cousins? Thirteen. I mean, biologically, only two. But in actuality, thirteen.”

“You can’t keep track of them all, run a successful business, and have fantastic sex every night.”

“I could if I cut out the sex.”

“I’d like to see you try. Of the two of us, who wakes the other up the most during the night for another go?”

The woman had woken me up multiple times with her hands and mouth, and I wasn’t complaining. I’d sleep when I was dead.

Beth harrumphed at that, and I tried to soften the smugness from my grin and failed.

We hit traffic and suddenly, Beth’s old podcast blared through my speakers.

“Welcome to Seek and You Shall Find . I’m Lily and both Sierra and Madison are joining me because we have a special episode today. After weeks of our podcast being used as fodder in the Potterrow Blokes ’ attempt to profit off our success, I called them out last week and dared them to come on the show. While it turns out they’re too cowardly to come into the studio, one of them has agreed to chat to us via Zoom. And for the folks listening at home, we’re not staring at one of the Potterrow Blokes ’ faces right now. We’re staring at a screensaver of the Hulk taking Thor up the arse. If the expression on the Asgardian’s face is anything to go by … he’s actually really into it.”

Both Beth and I snorted.

A male voice, American by the sounds of it, interrupted, “I’d like to say that the screensaver is not mine and I have no idea how to change it.”

“And to whom are we speaking?” Lily asked with a bite in her tone.

“Fill me in?” I asked Beth.

She explained about this group of blokes who’d started a rival podcast at the university and were always taking shots at Lily’s podcast.

“Really?” I grimaced. “Who has time for that shit?”

“I wish I had time for it. I know it sounds immature,” Beth continued, “but the podcast helped a lot of people when I started it, and Lily is one of them. She is so shy and body conscious, but she was brave enough to put herself out there on the podcast. And people relate to her. Not everyone is cocky and confident like you and me, Captain. She tells people what it’s like to be on the dating scene when it’s difficult to be social, to be sexy, to be outgoing. She’s helped way more girls than I ever did. I’m proud of her.”

I got it and reached out to squeeze her knee.

“Is it me, or is your voice familiar?” Lily asked her guest, sounding suspicious and peeved. She certainly didn’t seem shy behind that microphone.

“No,” the guy answered. “We’ve never met.”

“He answered that a little too fast,” one of her cohosts said in a northern accent.

“I did not. Look, did you bring me on to interrogate me, or can we talk about putting this daft competitiveness to rest?”

“Daft?” a female with an American accent said. “I knew it! I thought I could hear a British accent coming through. He’s putting on a fake American accent!”

“Aha!” Lily said, like that meant something.

I shared a look with Beth, and her lips trembled with laughter.

“I am not,” the bloke doubled down on the accent.

“Oh, really? Where in America are you from?”

“California.”

“Where?”

“Santa Barbara.”

“How long did you live there?”

“Jesus, are we really doing this?”

“Definitely a fake accent,” the American girl insisted. “So fake! He’s a fake.”

“I’m not listening to this childish rubbish.”

“Rubbish? Daft? Only the Brits say rubbish and daft.”

“Uh, guys, he hung up.”

“See? Totally faking it!”

“Okay, can we lower the volume, please?” Lily sighed, the sound hitting off her mic. “Well, there you have it, folks. Elijah from Potterrow Blokes is not only a thief, he’s a coward and maybe even an impostor.”

Beth switched off the show. “That wasn’t the best example of an episode. I need to talk to her. This rivalry with these guys is throwing the podcast off course, and they have ad companies to answer to. Their growth has been so exponential, I was even considering offering to take them on as a client, but they have to cut this shit out. I’ll talk to her,” she repeated.

“You have your own stuff to deal with,” I reminded her. “What did I just say? Not everything is your responsibility. I’m sure your cousin can handle it.”

She was silent for a few seconds. “If you’re worried about my anxiety, I’m getting better. Talking it out with you helped, and I’m planning to talk to my parents soon.”

“Good.” I reached out to thread my fingers through hers. “But what about the panic attacks? Amanda?” I asked because she’d woken up from a nightmare a week ago and thankfully, her jerking awake woke me. This time instead of running off to be alone, she came into my arms and let me hold her through it.

“Maybe talking to my parents is the last piece of the puzzle. Maybe I’ll stop dreaming about her once I do.”

“And if you don’t?”

Beth sighed heavily. “I’ll think about talking to someone. I promise.”

I tightened my grip on her hand. “Good. And you know I’m always here.”

“I know.” She raised our joined hands to press a kiss to my knuckles.

Time to compartmentalize.

I was glad we were facing our opponent on our own turf. Jogging onto the pitch, I searched the stands where I knew Beth would be with Ainsley. Thankfully, Baird’s sister was here to cheer on her brother, so I felt good about leaving Beth at the game. We’d hooked them both up with prime seats in the main stands, front row. She and Ainsley waved at us as we passed. I took in my girlfriend’s gorgeous face, expression brimming with pride and excitement, and I let it fuel me.

But then I had to filter out everything else. The fear of caring so much about her? Shoved deep down inside a dark pit where I could forget about it for a while. The fact that this was her first game supporting me? Kicked to the back of the net to stay there until the match was over.

That pride on her face, though … I kept that with me. It fired my blood and accelerated me as we faced one of our greatest opponents. The reigning champs.

Dalmarnock Thistle.

They picked the wrong day to play against me.

BETH

The crowds’ roaring was so thunderous, it reverberated in my chest. It was a strange, slightly alarming sensation, like the threat of them going completely wild hung in the air. Baird’s sister, Ainsley, screamed right along with them while I dealt with the sensory overload.

People behind us chanted a song, pointing their fingers in beat toward the other side of the stadium where Dalmarnock fans sang a rude song back at them.

I focused on Callan.

His shirt was number 10. I knew this because I’d seen people out and about with Caley United shirts displaying KEEN and the number 10 on the back. It was surreal then. Even more so now since we were surrounded by thousands of people, many of whom were wearing Callan’s number.

He looked sexy as hell out there. Sweat shone on his forehead, and the socks that had been snowy white now had green stains from when he’d been tackled. I had not enjoyed watching that, but I did enjoy the intensity of his expression as he powered down the field. It reminded me of what he was like in the bedroom. My stomach flipped with excitement while my heart ached with pride as he dribbled the ball down the pitch at a speed that barely computed.

His control was unlike anything I’d ever seen. He dodged the Dalmarnock players easily, growing closer to the goal.

“John isn’t open!” Ainsley shouted frantically.

I wasn’t quite sure how football worked beyond each team trying to score a goal, so I took my cue from Ainsley. My gaze moved to John, who was blocked by the other team.

Callan saw and took the shot himself.

The ball soared into the back of the net as the goalie dove in the wrong direction.

The crowd behind me went wild as I grinned and clapped along with Ainsley. Callan was swept up into manly hugs from the Caley players, and my heart leapt at his grin of triumph.

“He’s quick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen, Callan Keen!” The stands exploded into the chant, and my lips parted in amazement. Thousands of voices shouting for my boyfriend. Pride in their words. For him.

“Pretty awesome, ay?” Ainsley saw my expression and grinned.

I nodded, dumbfounded as I looked around at all their faces, lit with joy and belief.

I’d probably never truly be a football fan, but I felt and understood something in that moment that I hadn’t before.

The game brought all these people together and unified them. In a world that grew increasingly more divisive, that pitted neighbor against neighbor, sport brought whole communities together. Like music and books and TV were an escape for me, football was their escape.

And Callan gave them that. He and his team.

I looked back at my boyfriend as he ran down the field, chasing the ball.

“He’s quick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen, Callan Keen!”

It had been his escape too. A place to land. To call home.

I hoped I was home to him now too.

Possessiveness roared through me at the thought.

“He’s quick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen, Callan Keen!” Ainsley suddenly shouted with laughter in her eyes. She nudged me and I burst out into the chant too.

As if he heard me, Callan suddenly looked over at us.

I thought I saw a smile curl his mouth before he sped up on the pitch and snuck behind the Dalmarnock player who had the ball. He stole it from him with a finesse I marveled at, and the chanting grew louder. This time, John was open. Callan passed it, the ball soaring through the air and landing at John’s feet. It was like a dance, the way John caught the ball with ease and then volleyed it into the back of the net.

The stadium exploded as Ainsley and I jumped into each other’s arms, screaming in elation.