Chapter 10
VINCENT
“I can’t believe you’re living with Coach’s daughter.” Adil shook his head. “He’ll murder you if he finds out.”
“Which is why he won’t find out. Right?” I pinned the midfielder with a glare.
He gulped. “Uh, right.”
It was Friday night, and Asher, Adil, Noah, and I were seated at a corner booth in the Angry Boar. The rest of the team was scattered throughout the pub.
I’d debated telling my friends about the bet, but it didn’t feel right. As silly as it was, the wager was between Brooklyn and me only. I didn’t want to bring other people into it, and I didn’t need them telling me what a bad idea it was either.
I already knew it was a bad idea. I’d originally thought it was genius, but I quickly realized anything that brought me closer to Brooklyn was playing with fire. That shirt stunt she’d pulled the other night was diabolical.
But it was still easier to manage my mild attraction to her within the confines of a bet than to let it sprawl free, twisting and turning down roads that might end in humiliation, heartache, or worse.
Not that I thought it would get that far. It was just a precaution.
“You have to ask yourself—why are you risking the Boss’s wrath by living with her?” Asher mused. While I usually called Coach, well, Coach, Asher always referred to him as the Boss. “Maybe it’s because you have a crush on her.”
My glare pivoted from Adil’s face to his.
He smirked, and I wondered for the millionth time why my sister couldn’t date someone who was less of a fuckhead.
“Scarlett’s the one who suggested we move in together. You were there.”
“Yeah, I was there when you basically dared her to let you move in. Why would you have done that unless you have a crush on her?”
“He has a point,” Adil said.
“Stay out of it. You weren’t even there.” I turned to Noah. “Wilson, back me up.”
“No, thanks,” he said. “I think they’re right.”
I gaped at him. “You too?” This must’ve been how Caesar felt when Brutus stabbed him.
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his mouth when Asher high-fived him.
“I should’ve left you to mope at home alone,” I grumbled.
Noah looked like he would’ve been perfectly happy with that, but no one twisted his arm and forced him to come out with us. I mean, I may have insinuated this was a quasi-mandatory team bonding night, but I hadn’t held a gun to his head.
That being said, if his daughter wasn’t sleeping over at a friend’s place, he wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t blame him. It was tough raising a ten-year-old on your own, which was why I didn’t take it personally whenever he declined our invitations.
I did, however, blame him for ganging up on me with Asher and Adil. He was the last person I’d expected to betray me.
“It’s okay to have a crush on Brooklyn. I do. A teeny-tiny one,” Adil said. “I feel bad that she has to live with you though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, insulted.
“It means she’s a smoke show and you’re not.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry.”
“Watch it,” I growled over Asher’s laughter. Even Noah was smiling at my expense. See? Traitors, all of them. “You’re still on thin ice for ratting me out to Coach.”
“I apologized for that already!” Adil complained. “Besides, I’m just telling the truth. I’ve seen both your legs. Hers are way better, which is crazy, because you’re the pro athlete and she isn’t.”
Asher’s laugh escalated into a cackle. Noah turned his head, his shoulders shaking.
I kept my indignation for another minute before I broke. My mouth curved, and I tossed a crumpled-up napkin at Adil in defeat. “You’re such an asshole.”
“A truthful one. I mean, you must be saint to live with her and not want to, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows, and just like that, I wanted to kill him again.
“Want to what?”
If he noticed the dangerous edge in my voice, he didn’t show it.
“See if she looks as good out of her clothes as she does in them.” He propped his chin in his hands, a dreamy look entering his eyes.
“Those legs. That smile. That ass—ow!” He howled and clutched his shin beneath the table, his starry-eyed expression contorting into a pained grimace. “What the hell was that for?”
“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t know your leg was there.”
“So you kicked your foot into the air for no reason?”
I shrugged. “I needed to stretch my legs.”
I took a sip of my drink, ignoring Adil’s dramatic moans and Asher and Noah’s knowing smirks.
Whatever they were thinking, they were wrong.
I hadn’t kicked Adil on purpose because the way he talked about Brooklyn made me want to tear his head off his shoulders.
I certainly didn’t care that he or anyone else might’ve noticed how long her legs were, or how beautiful her smile was, or how her ass was sculpted enough to deserve its own exhibit in a museum.
Like I said, his shin simply got in my way. It wasn’t like I’d kicked him hard enough to injure him.
While Noah and Asher consoled Adil, who pitifully asked for more ginger beer in order to feel better, my mind wandered toward a certain flatmate again.
I’d caught a glimpse of her before I hopped in the shower earlier. We didn’t get a chance to talk, but she’d been all dressed up for…who?
She wasn’t with her friends, at least not the ones I knew. Scarlett was visiting our mother for a “girls’ weekend,” and Carina had a new side gig that required her to work tonight.
Was Brooklyn out with other friends? Or was she on a date?
An unpleasant sensation slithered through my veins. I shifted in my seat, resisting the urge to text her.
There was no way she was on a date. I lived with her; if she met someone, I would’ve heard about it. Right?
“Incoming.” Asher’s voice derailed my train of thought. “I think this one’s for you, DuBois.”
I glanced up to see a leggy brunette sauntering toward us, dressed to kill in a minidress and heels. The outfit was a bit impractical for a pub, if you asked me, but she looked good enough to turn every other head in the place, so I guess it did its job.
Her attention was laser focused on me. She resembled a young Megan Fox, and normally, I’d be into it, but I couldn’t summon more than a passing whiff of interest when she stopped at our table. One puff, and it was gone.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but my family and I are all huge Blackcastle fans. I know the pub has a no-picture and no-autograph rule, but I just had to come by and tell you that.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, aiming for polite but not flirtatious.
It didn’t work.
She lingered by the table, chatting up a storm about our last match and our prospects for the UCL. I was impressed. She knew her stuff, but when she pivoted and invited me to a club for an “after-party,” I had to decline.
“Sorry, I have to turn in early tonight,” I said. “But it was great talking to you. I hope you have fun at the club.”
Her face fell. She walked away, clearly disappointed.
When I looked at my friends again, they were staring at me with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
“Damn. That was brutal,” Asher said.
“What? I was nice about it,” I said defensively.
“Yeah, but Vincent DuBois, turning down a hot brunette?” Adil whistled. He’d finally recovered from my kick and was back to his usual self. “Are you sure you don’t have a crush on someone else?”
I sighed. “Stop acting like a twelve-year-old. We’re not in school anymore. Besides, I don’t have a special preference for brunettes.”
“Right.” He nodded wisely. “You like blondes.”
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
“I’m going to grab another drink.” Noah stood. “Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll go with you.” Adil jumped up. “Afterward, let’s do a drive-by and see what the other guys are up to.”
“That’s not what a drive-by is.” Noah gave me a pained expression as he walked away, Adil talking his ear off the entire time.
Asher also excused himself a minute later to use the loo. I was alone for the first time since I arrived, and instead of joining one of the other Blackcastle tables, I picked up my phone.
I hesitated before I typed a quick message and hit send.
What are you up to?
A minute passed. No response.
I rubbed a hand over my mouth. Maybe I should’ve gone with Noah and Adil to the bar after all.
Just when I thought it was a lost cause, a new text popped up onscreen.
Brooklyn
I’m at dinner with my dad. Wbu?
With her dad. Not a date. The vise in my chest loosened.
Hanging out at the Angry Boar with the team
They’re playing our song
The Angry Boar was one of the few pubs in town with a jukebox. Mac’s wife was a big music fan, and he’d installed it for her. Proof that even old grumps had a romantic bone or two.
Brooklyn
***
Brooklyn
How much have you been drinking? We don’t have a song
I beg to differ
I Hate Loving You. Riley K.
Three dots popped up, disappeared, then popped up again.
Brooklyn
One, I don’t believe for a second that they’re playing teen pop in a London pub
Brooklyn
Two, we’ve never listened to Riley K together
Brooklyn
Three, you know that song is about love AND hate, right?
1) Believe it
2) No, but it made me think of you
3) Obviously
Brooklyn
We don’t love each other
We don’t hate each other either
The three dots reappeared. I stared at the screen, my breath stalling in my lungs. Time slowed to an unbearable pace, but when the dots finally died, they didn’t give way to a new message.
My text was the last one in the thread.
“Who died?”
I jerked my head up as Asher slid back into his seat. “What?”
“You’re glaring at your phone like it personally offended you.” He nodded at my cell. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I quickly moved the device to my other side, away from him. “I was just going through some emails.”
Asher opened his mouth, but thankfully, Adil and Noah returned in time to distract him from further interrogation.
While Adil regaled us with the story of how he’d dared Samson to dance on camera to the Riley K song (which had indeed been playing, thank you very much), I checked my phone again. Just in case.
A red bubble graced my Messages app.
My stomach flipped. I tapped on the notification and skimmed the new text. It was only three words, but it was enough to make me smile.
Brooklyn
No. We don’t.