Chapter 18
Booker drives us over to the Mayfair-Soho area where the posh Cuckoo Club resides.
It’s an enormous nightclub spread over two floors kitted out in a rock chic motif, fusing a gritty glam with contemporary luxury.
It’s definitely a place you spot celebrities, but the over-the-top creative vibe is so fitting for Tanner and Belle’s celebration, I can see why they selected it.
My belly is in knots as Booker waffles his hand with mine and leads me through the club to the upper level where they’ve reserved the VIP room for a private dinner.
All eyes are on his tall, broad frame as he weaves through the crowd.
It’s an extremely eye-opening sight—a harsh reminder that Booker is not my childhood friend anymore.
He’s a professional footballer. A London-famous Harris with dimples and abs who girls throw their knickers at.
I’ve never been the jealous or insecure type with other blokes I’ve dated, but this reaction is Booker-specific.
I was insecure before he became a famous footballer.
Now I have to accept that every girl here wants him to contend with as well. What was I thinking?
I don’t look like the girls in this club who are eye-fucking him right now.
These girls look like Sidney—the one he gave his heart to when he broke mine.
What if I’m not enough after all? Why didn’t I think this all through before stripping down and baring my soul to him in front of that fucking net an hour ago?
This is like that whole sharing a bathroom with a bloke incident that I didn’t fully think through before I decided to simply hide my tampons in my bedroom. God, I’m a mess.
“Hey,” Booker halts in the middle of a crowd and looks at me with a puzzled brow. “Are you all right?”
I shake my head. “No, Booker. I’m freaking the hell out. What are we?” I blurt out, unceremoniously. I was comforting him before on the pitch, but now it’s my turn to have a mini breakdown.
He frowns at my pinched face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m about to be thrust in front of the infamously pushy Harris family and you’re here…
waffling my hand.” I yank our hands up as proof.
He just looks more confused. “We’ve talked through your fears, but not mine.
And certainly not the rudimentary things, like labels. So before we go up there, what are we?”
I’m out of breath as he gazes down at me with an infuriatingly sexy smirk on his face that sets me off further.
“This is not the time to have a laugh,” I snap.
“My mind is imploding in on itself and you’re looking at me like I’m a cute panda falling off a swing.
It’s a valid concern, Booker! I know we just talked through a lot of stuff, but I need more.
Are we exclusive? Or are we seeing other people?
” My lip curls as I take a moment to look around at the big-chested women moving in on us.
Mumbling to myself but loud enough he can hear me, I add, “I’m sure there are a lot of girls here that would be more than happy to waffle hands with you. ”
“No,” Booker growls, snapping me out of my insecure lady gazing.
His face is stony serious as he presses up against me, cradling my cheeks in his large hands.
His eyes are hard on mine as he says, “No, Poppy. We’re not seeing other people.
You belong to me. The rest, we’ll figure out.
” He shrugs his shoulders like this current situation is no big deal and he didn’t just say the most delicious thing ever.
I huff out an awkward laugh and try to calm the butterflies in my belly. “Well, that’s good because, I’ll have you know, there’s quite a queue of blokes after my affections.”
“Is that right?” he grins, his eyes dancing on my lips as he wraps his arms around me.
“Quite right. Once you get past the gay one from earlier, there are some legitimate prospects, so it’s good you got here when you did.”
His chest vibrates with laughter as he presses his lips to mine, sending a flurry of reassuring goosebumps up and down my spine. He pulls back and murmurs, “I’ll always be first in line.”
I can’t hide my satisfied smirk as we enter the floor-to-ceiling, glassed-off room where the Harris family is congregating with champagne flutes in hand.
The ceiling is bulb after bulb of purple shining down on the entire room, including the wall of purple, tufted velvet booths.
On the other side of the booth tables are deep, plum armchairs.
There are red roses and purple lilacs centred on each table and you can smell the beautiful fragrance instantly when you walk in the room.
The scene is over the top colourful, and the glass barrier still allows the live rock music and nightclub ambience to pour in with the added benefit of privacy.
Vi is the first to see us enter, and her sharp eyes zero in on our hands. Frowning, she detaches herself from Hayden’s arm and strides right for us.
“Incoming,” Booker mumbles. I force a smile while squeezing the shit out of his hand.
“Booker, Poppy! You’re here!” Vi’s smile is a bit more toothy than normal as she grabs herself another champagne flute from the passing tray.
Booker hands me one and I take a fortifying drink.
“I was worried you two weren’t going to make it.
I tried to call you after I got Rocky squared away with the nanny, but you didn’t pick up.
” She tears her eyes away from Booker and glances down at our interlocked hands again.
“We had some things to talk out,” Booker states smoothly.
“On the night of your brother’s wedding?” She tilts her head, her eyes scolding.
“Vi,” Booker says softly. “We weren’t gone long and Tanner was fine with it.”
She squints speculatively and asks, “So, did you talk everything out then?”
Booker frowns at her and then turns to me, offering that tipped smile of his that I love. “We’re starting to.”
“Broseph!” Tanner’s voice interrupts as he strides over with a blushing Belle tucked under his arm.
“You missed an outrageous limo ride. Camden took his shirt off and stuck his head out of the sunroof, so Gareth closed the glass on him and it pinched his skin and drew blood!” He roars with laughter as Gareth walks over to join us with a smile, clearly amused by the scene he’s replaying in his mind. “Best fucking wedding ever.”
“If that was the best part of the night for you, we’re going to have big problems!” Belle exclaims, pinching Tanner’s side.
“Easy, wife! We have to get this fancy suit back to Gareth’s lady in one piece.”
Gareth’s jaw clenches. “She’s not my lady.”
“Well, I venture to guess Sloan is a lot more than just your stylist.” Tanner shoots a playful smirk at Gareth, who does not seem amused.
Everyone’s eyes swerve to Gareth, Vi looking the most shocked. I can tell she wants to say something, but the scolding look he is shooting Tanner silences all of us. Without a word, Gareth turns and walks away, leaving us with a million unanswered questions.
Tanner—not the least bit put off by his brooding older brother—grins down at his new wife and says, “Also, I would have said the best part of my night was shagging you in the changing room before the wedding.” Her jaw drops at his cheekiness, but he hurries his next sentence out, saving himself from a proper walloping.
“But that was before you walked down the aisle and agreed to spend the rest of your life with me. Nothing tops that fucking moment.”
He smiles a happy, dopey grin at her, and she reaches up and pulls his mouth to hers. They kiss and I feel Booker’s hand tighten around mine. When Belle releases Tanner’s bearded jaw, she waggles her brows excitedly at me, silently giving me a pat on the back for my position next to Booker.
But when Tanner jerks Booker out of my hand saying they need a manly drink, she goes shouting after them that they need to pace themselves. Now I’m left alone with Vi’s piercing blue eyes watching my every move.
“What happened to your dates?” Vi asks, her tone crisper than I’ve ever heard it.
I smile ruefully. “Andrew and Sidney left together. I texted Andrew but haven’t heard back from him.”
Vi crosses her arms over her chest. “So, you arrived with one man and left with another?”
I frown, gripping my champagne flute tightly, trying to determine if I can take a drink without my shaking hands spilling it all over myself. “Not exactly…It’s really not like that, Vi.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“Andrew is only a friend.”
Her brows arch. “A kissing friend?”
“A gay friend.” I look down, ashamed of the games I’ve been playing with Booker up until this point.
“So you were trying to force my brother into making a move by making him jealous?”
I mirror her crossed arms, attempting to put a protective barrier between the two of us. “No,” I lie.
“That’s what it looks like to me.”
“Well I wasn’t, all right? Mostly. Andrew took it too far. He acted on his own accord because he knows that…He knows how… He understands—”
“Understands what?” Vi prods.
“He knows that I am in love with Booker. He was trying to help I guess.” I exhale heavily at the admission. Something I wish I had the guts to say to Booker instead of his big sister.
I look up to see Vi’s face soften. “You’re in love with Booker?” She looks shocked.
My eyes well for some reason unbeknownst to me. “Yes.”
She doesn’t look happy. She doesn’t look mad. She looks…nervous. “For how long?”
I look down at my shoes. “Probably since the day I met him.”
Her breath inhales sharply. “Poppy.”
“Don’t tell me you hadn’t figured it out by now.”
Her lips purse. “I’d suspected, but you and Booker always kept to yourselves. And he never really said…I just mean…Well—”