Chapter 47 Astrid
ASTRID
“This place is amazing.” I twirl around in the center of Callan’s main living space, soaking it all in.
The small hallway opens into a large space with a well-appointed kitchen tucked into the corner.
The rest of the space is a living room and dining area with a wide floor-to-ceiling window at the back, allowing lots of light in and offering a perfect view of the park outside with the Thames and the Riverside Arena in the distance.
Callan pointed them out a few seconds ago.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, dragging my zipper down and helping me out of my jacket.
“Does it get the official interior designer seal of approval?” Dara teases, taking my jacket from his brother.
“It does. I like the clean lines with key pieces of furniture and minimalist styling. The design is clever, and they have maximized the use of this space.” My eyes skim over the room.
An expensive cream leather sectional occupies prime real estate in the living area, perfectly positioned to view the large wall-mounted TV.
The rustic oak coffee table matches the eight-seater dining table at the other side of the space.
It’s facing the window on one side and a narrow hallway on the other.
I’m guessing that’s where the bedrooms and bathrooms are.
“Though I think a little injection of color would make it more homey. A different rug. Some new wall hangings. A few throws and cushions would really lift the design.”
Callan’s arms encircle my waist, and he grins at me. “You can make whatever changes you like once you move in.”
“You’ve decided to stay here?” The club provided this apartment for the first three months, and they’re giving Callan an accommodation allowance every month from next month. He had looked at a few other places, but he was also talking to the management company here about staying on.
“Yeah, they gave me a sweet deal and a one-year rental agreement. It makes sense to stay here so I’m not uprooted again.”
“I thought you’d want a bigger place,” Gwen says, leaning against the window.
“This is plenty big for my needs.” Callan twirls a strand of my hair.
“But you have the money to splash out on a penthouse. Don’t you want that?” She arches a brow, eyeing him like he’s acting crazy.
“I want to be smart with my money. Spend it wisely. Invest some.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” I agree.
“I think that’s smart too.” Gwen pushes off the window. “But you should treat yourself. You’ve worked really hard to get here, and you should enjoy it.”
“I fully intend to, and I have splurged on a new car. I don’t need anything else.”
A muscle works in Callan’s jaw, and I can tell Gwen is already getting on his nerves.
This does not bode well for the week. “Can you show us to the bedrooms? I want to freshen up before we eat.” I lace my fingers in his.
We haven’t stopped touching, and I can tell he’s missed me as much as I’ve missed him.
“Don’t take too long, or the food’ll go cold,” Dara calls out as Callan swipes up my case and my bag. “I’ll set the table.”
Gwen drags her mammoth case along the hardwood floors as Callan leads us down the hallway. The guest bedroom Gwen is staying in is plush and comfortable. She’ll be sharing the main bathroom with Dara for the time he’s here.
“Alone at last,” Callan says, slamming the door behind us when we step into the master bedroom. His lips are upon mine in an instant, and we cling to one another as we kiss. Callan is an incredible kisser, and I have missed kissing him.
“No fucking, lovebirds!” Gwen calls out, thumping the door with her fist. “Eat first.”
Callan’s brow rests against mine as we break our lip-lock. His eyes are closed, and I can tell he’s counting to ten in his head.
“I know she’s a lot at times, but she’s excited to be here.” I cup his cheek, relishing the familiar feel of his stubble against my palm. “Thank you for letting her come. It means a lot to me.”
“I’m not unsympathetic to what she’s been through, but she’s your friend, not mine. I don’t mind her being here this time, but it can’t become a regular thing.”
“It won’t be.” I peck his lips. “I promise.”
“So, this is what it’s like to be rich, famous, and privileged,” Gwen says, settling into a comfortable leather chair beside me in the corporate box with a glass of champagne in hand.
Before I could say a word, she informed me she’s not turning down free bubbly, and one or two glasses won’t hurt.
I really hope she behaves and doesn’t do anything to embarrass Callan.
“I’ve been here a few times, and I still can’t get used to it,” Dara says, arriving with his plate laden down with food. “All my mates are begging me for tickets.”
“I thought it’d be bigger.”
“Is that your new mantra?” I tease.
“You say that to all your boyfriends, Gwen?” Dara adds, waggling his brows before he takes a sip of his beer.
“I only date guys with big cocks, so, no.” She fake preens at Dara as I catch one of the women frowning in our direction.
“Can we keep the conversation PG, please. There are a couple of kids in the room,” I say in a low tone.
Gwen turns her head, staring the woman down.
“Stop that,” I hiss, moving my body so I’m blocking her view of the woman. “Don’t start shit with any of the players’ wives.”
We met everyone in the players’ lounge when we first arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves.
It’s a pity Joel’s wife couldn’t come today, but I’m glad Dara is here.
He’s already met some of the players and their partners, and he introduced us.
Most of the wives and girlfriends were lovely, but a few were a little aloof.
I wasn’t sure what to wear to the game. Callan said to wear whatever I wanted, but he’s a man, and they’re generally clueless.
It’s my first visit to the stadium, my first time watching my boyfriend in action, and I’m aware there will be eyeballs on me.
I didn’t want to be too dressed up—it is a football game after all—but I didn’t want to look like I’d made no effort either, so I settled on jeans, a long-sleeved black silk blouse that ties at the neck into a bow, and black high heels.
My hair is long and wavy, and I’m wearing a little makeup.
I was glad to see some of the other women in jeans too.
A few of them are very dressed up, and I wonder if I should’ve made more of an effort.
Then again, Gwen has that boxed off with her white minidress, skyscraper heels, and a full face of makeup.
Her hair is styled into glossy curls that bounce as she walks.
I was going to suggest it was a little over the top, but I bit my tongue.
If it makes her feel good to dress up for the match, what business is it of mine to tell her she can’t?
“She’s looking at me like I’m trash,” Gwen says through gritted teeth.
“She’s a snob.” Dara glances at the woman in question. “Don’t let her get to you, and Astrid is right. Don’t cause trouble for Callan, Gwen.” He drills her with a warning look.
“Look, the game is starting.” I tug on her arm, drawing her attention to the field down below us.
I’m loving that the box has a glass window so we’re protected from the weather because it’s currently drizzling, and I’m glad I’m not outside.
We still have a great view from here, and there’s a large-screen TV at the back of the space showing the match.
We settle down to watch the game, and I chat with a couple of the younger women when I switch seats with Dara. We’re all up on our feet when Callan scores an amazing goal from an overhead kick to put us in the lead. Dara and I hug, jumping up and down, whooping and hollering.
At halftime, Callan’s goal is all everyone is talking about.
I grab some food and a fresh sparkling water before reclaiming my seat for the second half.
Callan’s buddy Joel scores a fantastic goal from near the halfway line, ten minutes before the end of the game, and our team leaves the field the winners, having beaten their legacy rivals two goals to nil.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Callan says after the match, pulling me into his body for a kiss.
“You were amazing. You belong out there.”
“I knew you were watching, and I wanted to impress you.” He presses his hand to my lower back.
“I’m impressed every time you set foot on a football field. You’re a natural, babe.”
Callan kisses me again, only breaking apart when some of the other players tease us as they leave the dressing room. Callan introduces me and Gwen to some of the players, and we chat with Joel for a few minutes before we leave.
That night, we go out for dinner and end up in a club in Central London in the VIP area. Gwen makes out with some minor celebrity from a reality TV show, and it’s all she’s talking about on the way home. Dara snuck off with some hot blonde, and I don’t think we’ll be seeing him until the morning.
Callan is all over me the second we enter our bedroom, and it’s a frenzy as we shed our clothes and crash into the bed naked. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he says, driving into me at a frantic pace. “I can’t wait for you to move here.”
“I know, babe.” I pant, grabbing handfuls of his ass as he fucks me.
We screw for hours, making good on last night’s promise, and I fall asleep in his arms, more content than I ever remember feeling.
The week goes by in a flash, and I hate how that happens when you really want things to slow down.
Callan is busy with training and other club stuff on Monday and Tuesday, so Gwen and I explore the tourist sights and go shopping.
Callan gave me a bank card, telling me to buy whatever I want.
Despite Gwen’s active encouragement, I don’t go crazy, not wanting to abuse my boyfriend’s generosity.
Gwen is grumpy when Callan whisks me away Wednesday morning, but I remind her I’ll only be gone until the morning, and there is plenty she can do to amuse herself.
Callan has stocked the fridge and the cupboards, and he kindly left cash if she wants to order delivery later.
His team doesn’t have a mid-week match this week, and his manager gave him the day off.
Getting twenty-four hours all to ourselves is bliss. “I wish I could’ve taken you to Ireland,” Callan says as he drives us into Central London. “It would’ve been way too rushed though.”
I lift his free hand and bring it to my mouth, dusting kisses across his knuckles. “You can take me during the summer. I can’t wait to see where you grew up and to meet your nan.”
“She’s dying to meet you.”
“I can’t wait to taste her barmbrack.”
Callan chuckles. “You and cake.”
I giggle as I glance briefly out the window. “You know, I was a little worried I might not like London, but I love the city. It’s so vibrant and eclectic, and I can totally see myself living here.”
“I’m relieved. I’m on a countdown until you arrive, and I’m not sure I’d have coped if you said you hated it and changed your mind.”
“I’m not changing my mind.” I lean over and kiss his cheek. “You’re stuck with me now.”
After Callan parks the car, we walk hand in hand through Kew Gardens before taking afternoon tea at Claridge’s, and then it’s on to the London Eye.
We check into The Savoy Hotel, and Callan tells me lots of famous people have stayed here, like The Beatles and Marilyn Monroe.
I shudder to think how much it must be costing.
After christening the suite, I change into the new dress I bought on Monday, and Callan wears his new Prada suit, and we enjoy dinner at an exclusive steak restaurant. Callan orders champagne, and I feel like a princess.
We make love for hours before falling asleep with matching smiles.
A girl could really get used to this.
On Thursday night, Callan and I go to Joel and Tamara Ekman’s home for dinner, and I instantly bond with the bubbly Londoner. We make lots of plans for when I move here, and she promises to show me around the city and introduce me to some of her friends.
I stay in bed on Friday morning after Callan leaves for work, a little exhausted after my busy week. When I get up at lunchtime, I can’t find Gwen anywhere, so I call her, but it rings out. A short while later, I get a cryptic message, saying she’s busy with something, but she’ll be back later.
I’m slouched on the couch in my sweats and a cami top, scouring English TV shows, when Callan arrives home.
“For you,” he says, brandishing a bakery box.
“What’s this?”
“Cake. What else?” His lips twitch as he plants the box on my lap. “I was at a florist buying you flowers when I realized it was a stupid idea because you can’t exactly pack them in your case. There was a bakery en route to my car, and it called out my name,” he jokes, joining me on the couch.
When he leans in to kiss me, I forget all about the cake as he worships my mouth. A dreamy sigh floats from my lips when we part.
“I love that you’re here when I get back.” His hand curls around my neck. “This place feels like a home when you’re in it.”
“Home is wherever you are.” I brush my lips against his as my arms wind around his neck. “I love you, soccer star.”
“Not as much as I love you.” His eyes radiate emotion as he stares at me.
We kiss tenderly, very much at odds with the way we’ve been devouring one another all week. I hold his beautiful face in my hands and memorize his stunning features, needing it to keep me going these next ten weeks of separation. “I hate that I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Trust me, I know.” He caresses my cheek. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”
“Same, but you know what always helps?”
He quirks a brow.
“Tea and cake.” I hop up, careful not to drop the box.
I’m savoring all the different cakes Callan bought, trying to get him to taste a tiny morsel, when the front door opens and Gwen finally returns. I swivel on my stool at the island unit and turn to face her.
Gwen is wearing the biggest smile, and she looks fit to burst. “I have the best news!” She grabs me into a hug.
Callan and I share a look. Gwen whips off her coat, setting it on the back of my stool.
She’s wearing a black pencil skirt, a blouse, and high heels, which is so not her usual style.
What the hell is going on? Her shoulders lift, and she beams with pride as she looks at us and says, “You are looking at the new social media liaison officer for Thamesford FC.”