16. “The wildest we get is when someone double dips in the hummus.”
“The wildest we get is when someone double dips in the hummus.”
Kat
Mum insists we meet up with Archie after the game, claiming it’s “only polite.” Before I can argue, Roxy and Fallon offer to take us behind the scenes, leading us through a staff corridor that opens into what looks like a large cafeteria.
Players, staff, and their acquaintances mill about, their post-game chatter bouncing off the tiled floors.
Plates of food clatter onto tables, and the low buzz of a coffee machine working overtime carries over the hubbub.
Wade walks in first, his hair still damp from the shower and a fresh change of clothes clinging neatly to his athletic frame. He spots us immediately.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, sweeping Roxy into his arms with easy confidence.
“I know. We would have gone straight to Archie’s, but these two wanted to say hello.”
She introduces us, and Wade offers a polite nod. “Archie will be right out. He takes his time in the shower.”
Moments later, Archie strolls into the canteen—damp curls tousled, Regents T-shirt hugging his broad shoulders. The way his pants are slung low on his lean hips does nothing for my thundering heartbeat.
“There you are, you handsome boy,” Mum says, striding over to envelop him in a hug. “The match was wonderful. Thank you so much for having us.”
“My pleasure, Gilly.” He grins. “Glad you had a good time.”
His eyes latch onto me, darkening as they settle on the jersey I’m wearing. But honestly, with the way he’s looking at me right now, I might as well be naked. “Did you have a good time?”
I twist my mouth to the side, then roll my eyes. “Yes. I did. Way more fun than I thought I would have.”
“Yes!” he says, pumping his fist. “Knew it. Well, now you have no choice but to enjoy the post-game ritual with us. We all go to my place afterwards for a few drinks.”
“Oh, you’re very sweet, dear,” Mum interrupts, although I’m not even sure she was invited. “But I’m way too old for that. And I have a phone call to make,” she says, her subtle wink making me smile.
Could this be the day my mum actually grows up? Here’s hoping Oscar will be keen on taking her back.
“You kids go without me,” she says, tapping my shoulder and Archie’s. “I just want an autograph on my jersey first,” she adds, handing him a Sharpie.
“Of course,” he says with a chuckle, signing her back. After that, she glides over to Wade, adding his signature to her collection.
“Do you want one too?” Archie asks, his gaze dropping to my top. “Nice jersey, by the way. I see you have good taste.”
I cough out a chuckle, pretending my insides aren’t burning. “Don’t get too excited. My mum insisted. You know how she is.”
“Right,” he says with a crooked smile, raking a hand through his damp hair. “So… you’re coming for drinks, yeah?”
I glance away, then back at him. “I don’t know—”
“Come on.” He steps closer. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure we’re extra loud so you won’t be able to sleep,” he says with a wink.
I cast him a playful glare. “It’s five p.m.”
“Never stopped you from screaming at me before.”
I wince, laughing under my breath. “Yeah, I get a bit nasty after night shifts. I need my sleep.”
He softens, his head tilting slightly. “Do you have to be up early tomorrow?”
“No, I start at noon.”
He clasps his hands, taking a small step back as my mum returns. “Perfect, then. Let me grab my stuff, and we can meet at my place. Gilly, it was so nice to see you again.”
They hug once more—and of course she lingers—before Archie shoots me a smirk and marches back down the corridor with Wade.
I knock lightly on Archie’s door. He said to just walk in, but that feels too familiar.
He opens the door a few seconds later, barefoot, a drink in one hand and a grin on his face. “You came.”
“Oh, I had a choice?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
He just chuckles. “Come on in. You’re the first one here.”
His flat is… unexpectedly clean. Chic and modern, but lived-in, with a deep navy sofa, shelves crammed with books and football memorabilia, and a massive Ultra HD TV mounted on the wall.
The record player in the corner is a nice throwback to times gone by, and I’m surprised to see stacks of actual records beside it.
A few mismatched throw pillows soften the otherwise sharp aesthetic.
“Make yourself at home,” Archie says, motioning toward the sofa before sauntering into the kitchen. “What’ll it be? Beer? Wine? Sparkling elderflower?”
“I’ll take the elderflower, if you have it,” I say with a smirk, slipping off my shoes and scanning the framed photos on the console from left to right.
Him and Finn on the pitch. Him and Wade with big smiles, standing near the net.
Him in a verdant park with his mother and brother. Him holding what looks like a trophy.
“So, what’s this trophy?” I ask when he comes back with my drink.
Before he can reply, the buzzer rings.
“Champions League,” he says, walking over to the door, but it flies open before he can reach it.
Finn barrels in headfirst. “Where’s the lemonade?” he says by way of greeting.
“In the fridge. Same place it was last season,” Archie deadpans.
Callum shuffles in behind him, grumbling. “You’d think the bloke’s legs would need a rest after a full ninety.”
Millie skips in after him, followed by Cameron, Wade, and Roxy, who shoots me a bright smile. It’s a good thing she’s here. This whole situation is a little unnerving.
Everyone gathers around the coffee table—I find a seat next to Archie—and soon, snacks are being passed around, ice is clinking in glasses, and legs are stretched out over cushions like they own the place. The conversation naturally shifts to the match.
“Did you see the way Finn nearly tripped over his own feet trying to score that goal?” Callum grunts, cracking open a can of something fizzy.
Finn lifts his lemonade in a mock salute. “Still scored, didn’t I? Unlike some of us who let Wexford waltz right through the backline in the first five seconds of the game.”
Callum snorts. “You try defending with Wade yelling instructions at you like some possessed animal.”
Wade holds up both hands. “Hey! I was giving strategic guidance.”
Archie chuckles. “Yeah, I didn’t catch a word you said either, mate.”
More laughter ripples through the group, and I find myself smiling, easing into the rhythm of it.
Before Wade can defend himself, the door opens again.
“Ah. There she is,” Finn calls toward the hallway without looking.
“Thought maybe you’d forgotten his address.” Cameron sits up straighter, scooting toward the side of his sofa to clear a space for Fallon.
“She refuses to take the shortcut,” Archie murmurs into my ear, the warmth of his breath brushing my skin.
I shiver as goosebumps erupt over every inch of my body.
“So, this is the big post-match ritual, huh?” I ask the group, hoping to distract myself from the heat radiating from Archie. “Not what I would have guessed from the other end of the corridor.”
“Yeah,” Finn says, scratching his chin. “You were probably set on a rager with stripteasers or something. Definitely not our style.”
Everyone chuckles at that.
“Please,” Millie says. “The wildest we get is when someone double dips in the hummus.”
“I still have nightmares about that night,” Fallon says with mock seriousness.
“And you get to experience it with the full crew here too,” Archie says. “Fallon only comes after afternoon games, and Callum only started showing up when Millie arrived. As for these two, we haven’t seen them out this way since they had their baby in the spring.” He gestures toward Wade and Roxy.
“Oh, congratulations,” I say with a warm smile. “Can’t be easy juggling all this with a little one.”
“Nope,” they both say, looking at each other with fond smiles.
“We adapt,” Roxy says. “He stays with my dad on match days so I can still come, but we usually go straight home after.”
“Since it was the first game of the season, we decided to extend our evening out.”
“We’re so lucky you’re gracing us with your presence.” Finn dramatically clutches his heart. “When are you going to start bringing him to matches?”
Roxy winces. “I don’t know. The stadium is so loud. Probably not until next year.”
“Oh, come on,” Cameron says. “We need to start moulding him into a Regents fan.”
“He already is,” Roxy says with a chuckle. “He has the full kit and everything. My dad dresses him up on match day, though he tends to pull off his blue socks.”
“Bet he’s still better at keeping his socks matching than Archie is,” Callum mutters.
“Never change a winning combo,” Archie fires back, grinning. “We won, didn’t we?”
“Oh yeah.” Finn nods. “That’s all thanks to the socks, eh? Nothing to do with us busting our butts on the pitch for an hour and a half.”
Another round of laughter ripples through the room, and I settle deeper into the sofa, my shoulder brushing against Archie’s.
I would have never guessed I’d end up here one day, laughing casually with Archie and his friends.
Yet, here I am, and weirdly enough, it feels right, almost familiar. I’m not sure what to make of that.
I don’t know how long we stay sprawled on the couches, chatting about everything and anything—I don’t even feel awkward when they ask me about my life and work—but when it’s time to call it a day, I'm surprised to find myself wishing it could go on just a little longer.
In the span of less than ten minutes, everyone is gathered by the door, hugging us goodbye.
Archie closes the door behind Finn, and suddenly, I realise how alone we are.
“So, that wasn’t terrible, was it?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Fine,” I say, pretending to inspect my nails. “They were… decent.”
His eyes narrow playfully. “Decent?”
My facade cracks, and I break into a grin. “I’m kidding. They’re great. Really. I had fun.”
“Yeah.” He rakes a hand through his hair, and it tumbles over his forehead again. “I’m lucky to have them. They feel like family, you know? Especially with my mum living a solid ninety minutes away, and Noah all the way in the States.”
“You seem like a tight-knit group.”
“Finn and I go way back, actually,” he says. “We both went to the Regents academy—a centre where they train us to play pro. We both started at the same time as kids, dreaming of playing for the team one day, and now here we are. It’s crazy we actually made it.”
“You were clearly destined to play football,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I saw how natural you were on the pitch, how focused you were. It was impressive.”
“Phew.” He exhales dramatically, splaying a hand on his chest. “At least now you know that those lackluster skills I demonstrated in Uganda were just a temporary glitch.”
“You mean when you almost took off my head?” I cross my arms, raising my eyebrows. “Yeah, I was hoping that wasn’t what got you recruited.”
He laughs, then a silence settles between us. The reminder that we’re alone in his apartment comes rushing to my mind again.
“I’m really glad you came,” he murmurs, his voice lower now. He takes a step closer. “To the match, and then to my place. It’s just… crazy. We were at each other’s throats not that long ago.”
“Yeah,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry. “It feels like ages ago. So much has changed since then.”
His eyes drop to my lips for a half second, then slowly trail back up to meet mine.
My heart quickens, and I’m suddenly debating whether I should run away or just throw myself at him.
The way his pupils dilate, the smell of his peppermint shampoo, the butterflies swarming in my belly. It’s the perfect setup for a kiss.
Then, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I freeze. What am I doing?
Clearing my throat, I look away. “Well, I’d better get going. You must be exhausted after that match,” I say with a forced chuckle. “See you around, I guess.”
His eyebrows furrow, then he nods, stepping out of my way. “Sure. See you around, Kat.”
With a sharp intake of breath, I try to cool myself down as I hurry to the safety of my flat.