23. Robbie
ROBBIE
I have the thirty seconds it takes to walk from my bedroom door to the kitchen to get my hard-on under control.
I grit my teeth and try to discreetly tuck my erection into the waistband of my shorts as Cassie follows me down the stairs, concentrating on anything other than the feel of her tight body under my hands.
By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, I think I have it under control. As long as I don’t look at her with her fresh face and riot of curls held together with a clip that could so easily be tugged free, I’ll be fine.
Her nails lightly scratch my back above the waistband of my shorts, grabbing my shirt and tugging me to a stop, and all my hope is lost.
“Are you sure about this?” Her wide green eyes are staring up at me as she pulls her plump bottom lip between her teeth. She glances at the door to the kitchen where I know my family are gathered. “It’s not too late for me to call a car.”
And send her back to her parents? Not happening.
I reach my hand behind me, tugging her fingers free from my shirt. “They’re not that scary, trouble. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m not scared,” Cassie grumbles, but she lets me tug her further down the small corridor.
I’m clutching onto her fingers like she’ll run away any second. I relax my hand, but she catches hold of my pinky finger as if she doesn’t want me to let go either.
I shoulder open the kitchen door, stepping through the doorway. “Everyone, Cassie. Cassie, everyone.”
Thankfully, I briefed Iwan and Gwen before Cassie came down so they know not to do the weird ‘oh-my-god-there-is-a-celebrity-in-the-kitchen’ bit and my dad wouldn’t know Cassie from a model in the JD Sports catalogue, so everyone is acting like this is a normal occurrence.
As if I often bring international pop stars to my family home out of the blue.
“Hi.” Gwen waves from her perch on a stool by the kitchen counter.
“Hiya,” Dad says, barely peeling his eyes away from the football replay on the TV mounted to the wall.
Mum gestures to the counter next to Gwen. “Come sit down, flower.”
Cassie hovers behind me until I rest my hand on her back and nudge her forward. My fingers traced the exposed skin on her back, and I want to hook them in her waistband and keep her by my side.
I set the pump on the counter and head for the coffee machine.
Gwen tugs the plate of pastries closer to Cassie. “Fresh from Tesco. Help yourself.”
Cassie grins as she grabs a pain au chocolat and bites into it. I’ve noticed that when Cassie takes the first bite of something, her eyes roll slightly like she’s savoring the moment. Food isn’t a necessity for her, it’s an experience every time.
“So, what are your plans?” Mum asks, leaning her forearms on the counter. “Are you going to Hiraeth Farm?”
“What’s that?” Cassie asks, tearing apart her croissant.
“It’s a big recording studio near Monmouth,” Gwen tells her. “Iwan’s friends with the guy who runs it.”
“It’s a lovely place, right on the mountain. Apparently, loads of musicians record there.” Mom waves her hand. “They don’t call Wales the ‘Land of Song’ for no reason.”
Cassie takes a big bite, presumably to avoid answering the question.
I lean back against the wall and cross my arms, rubbing my face with a hand. “We’re just going to hang out around here, I guess.”
“Well, Fi wants to go to the beach, so we’re probably going to drag her Grandad down there in a bit.” Mum turns to Cassie, conspiratorially. “Grandad hates the beach.”
“I don’t hate the beach, Sian,” Dad huffs. “I hate the sand and the children screaming and running in front of me.”
“Children do that, Arthur,” Gwen cuts in wily, sending Cassie an eye roll.
“Where are the children?” The coffee machine bleeps and I set a fresh cup in front of Cassie, resting my hand on her spine again. Why does it keep doing that? I fist my hand and bury it in the crook of my elbow.
The kitchen door slides open, and Iwan pokes his head in. “Okay we’re officially in dire need of that pump. Clumsy over here stomped on it instead of kicking it.”
“I didn’t stomp, Dad,” Ffion protests, following her dad through the door. “Sammy didn’t move in time for me to kick it.” She fists her hands on her hips, looking as fiery as her mother is known to be. “It’s not my fault football is a stupid game.”
“Hey!” We all protest.
“When can we go to—” I’m watching as she looks to her mother and finally spots the woman sitting next to her.
Ffion eyes widen like she’s just seen her idol in her grandmother’s kitchen…which she has.
Cassie swivels in her seat, giving my niece her full attention. “Hi Ffion.” She waves.
I bite my cheek to hide my grin as Ffion freezes in place, her cheeks turning so red I’m almost worried she’ll pass out.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Cassie says.
Ffion unglues her feet from the floor and sprints out of the room.
Gwen wipes her hands free of croissant crumbs with a laugh. “I think that’s about the reaction I was expecting.”
Cassie chuckles. “I’m used to it, don’t worry.”
“I’ll go get her.” Gwen slides off the stool and follows her daughter.
“So.” Iwan takes the vacated seat. “Cassandra, is it? Or Cassie? Robbie’s told us so much about you.”
Cassie raises her eyebrows mischievously, glancing at me with a growing smile. “Oh, he has?”
Iwan nods seriously, taking a bite of a croissant. “It’s always Cassie this, Cassie that.”
I search for something in the vicinity to throw at him, but I’m interrupted by a hand tugging at my shorts.
I glance down and see Sammy with a deflated ball in one hand and a pump in the other.
I rub my hand across his hair. “Hey Sammy-boy. Give it here.” I drop to my haunches and take the pump gently from his hands. He crouches down beside me as if I’m not just as tall as he is now. From here, I can’t see Cassie or my prick of a brother, but I can sure hear them.
“Has Mum got out the family albums yet?”
Cassie laughs, her husky voice echoing through the room.
“Nope,” I bark, climbing back to my feet. “Back off Iwan, or I’ll shove this pump up your…” I glance back at Sammy, who’s watching me intently. A boy of very few words, but we all know he’s hearing everything. “Ball.”
Iwan snickers.
“You’re such a child.” Thankfully there’s a tea towel on the counter that’s perfect for pelting at my idiot brother.
As soon as the ball is blown up enough, I let it spin into Sammy’s hands. He eagerly grabs it from me and starts dribbling it across the kitchen floor.
I step to the side and easily intercept it, dribbling it around the kitchen island.
“Boys,” Mum says. “Take it outside please.”
I snicker as Iwan joins in from the stool, trying to trip me up as I easily point the ball out of the kitchen door and into the back garden.
Sammy jogs beside me, his little hand pulling at the back of my top. “Ugh, ref!” I call out. “He’s touching me.”
“Hands behind your back, Sammy,” Dad shouts as he follows us out.
I put my hands behind my back and grin as Sammy copies me. I slow my movements down, letting the ball roll gently across the grass and giving him ample opportunity to take possession.
His tongue sticks out the side of his mouth as he gazes intently at the ball. Quick as lightning, his foot makes contact with the ball and kicks it straight into the goal that’s been in my parent’s garden since before I was born.
Cheers erupt from the crowd, and I offer my beaming nephew a high five. “Alright, that was an easy one. I let you have it.”
I touch the ball back into my possession, faking this way and that, trying to trick Sammy into predicting my maneuver. He crouches in front of me, concentration washing over his face.
I glance up and see Cassie cradling a coffee mug and watching with a grin on her face. I know realistically that Cassie’s seen me play dozens of times by now, but I still feel a thrill at her attention now.
She’s ushered onto the patio furniture on the deck, and I can barely peel my eyes away as she smiles at whatever Mum tells her. Her toned arm rests on the back of the sofa, playing with the strands of hair escaping from her bun as she takes a sip of her drink, her pink tongue licking away the foam.
Suddenly, the ball that was underneath my foot is popped out and I almost lose my balance. Sammy runs up the length of the garden until the ball is aimed at his father standing in goal, hitting him right in the bollocks.
The laughter that bursts out of me is loud and pointed entirely in my brother’s direction as he bends in half.
Sammy races back to me, the ball flying underneath his feet and I don’t stop laughing until I catch Gwen and Ffion appearing in the doorway.
I watch as Ffion glances at Cassie. Cassie looks over with a small smile but doesn’t make any sudden movements, as if my niece is a small baby animal approaching humans for the first time. Ffion hovers in the doorway, eyes fixed on the ground.
“Fi,” I call. “Come join my team. We need a good defender.”
Ffion brightens, and with a final glance in Cassie’s direction, she skips to my side. I tug on her ponytail as she jumps headfirst into the game.
It’s only later when it’s just me and the kids on the grass that Ffion sidles up to me.
“She’s a normal person, Fi,” I tell her quietly as she glances back at Cassie. She spent the whole scrimmage looking over at the patio and turning away quickly whenever Cassie looked up.
Ffion shrugs.
“Come on. It’s not like you to go all quiet on us.” I squeeze her shoulder. “Sandra,” I call out as Cassie glances up.
“What?” Cassie replies from her seat.
“Come here.” I wave her down.
She must see something in my expression because she dutifully rises and pads barefoot to the grass.
“Come play a round with us.”
She folds her arms and pops her hip. “Play?”
“Yeah, it’s something people do for fun.” I waggle my eyebrows.
She rolls her eyes. but I see the smile pulling at her lips.
“Fine.” She secures the bun on her head. “Girls vs boys?” She glances at Ffion with a wink.
Ffion’s cheeks pinken, but she still nods eagerly.
“Let’s play.”