Page 14 of The Keeper and I

“Yes,” she said. “I speak to them every day, and while we aren’t lovey-dovey or anything, we are affectionate.”

“Do they live nearby?”

“Yep. All three of us are in London,” she said. “They live together, but I wanted my own place. Mostly so I could decorate it how I like. Believe it or not, they weren’t keen on having fluffy pink pillows on the couch.”

“Ah, they haven’t got any taste, do they?” he joked.

“Seriously!” she said. “Their idea of acceptable wall decor is a framed photo of Chelsea after they won the Champions League.”

“They’re Chelsea supporters? Now, I’mreallyquestioning their taste.”

“I’m afraid I come from a long line of Chelsea supporters,” she admitted with a laugh. “We’re going to the match on Sunday. My brothers and I, not the entire lineage.”

“Of course,” he said, doing his best to ignore the way his stomach dropped at hearing she was going to be at the match.

Not only was he going up against his old teammate, a remarkably threatening striker, but Laci would be watching. What if it ended in another draw? Or worse, what if they lost? It was never ideal, but the humiliation would be tenfold knowing Laci was in the stands to witness it all. He shook his head. He didn’t need to concern himself with impressing her.

“Which club did you watch growing up?” she asked.

“Rangers, of course,” he said as if it were obvious.

“What made you come to England and play for Stanmore?”

“Money, mostly.” He paused for a beat. “I know it sounds fucking shallow.”

“No, I get it,” she said. “Gotta make a living somehow, right?”

“Right.”

He met her gaze and was relieved to find that her understanding was genuine. Usually when he gave that answer, people looked at him sideways like he lacked sentiment. But Jordan had seen firsthand what poverty did to a family. He refused to let it happen again if he ever had a family of his own. And given his unwillingness to entertain the idea of a relationship, the prospect was doubtful.

All too soon, they reached her house. A large, elegant row house with a gate and small garden in front. Jordan wondered if there was something he could do to stretch the time he had with her, but his mind drew blanks. Asking her out or for her number wouldn’t be appropriate after she’d just been harassed, so planning a way to see her again wasn’t in the cards either. Not that he thought someone like Laci would be interested in him. That was wishful thinking.

“Thanks again for your help tonight,” she said.

“Sure,” he replied.

She glanced down at her shoes and then back at him. “Can I ask you something that has the potential to embarrass us both?”

“You can ask me anything,” he said and then wondered if that sounded too desperate.

“Have we met before?”

He blinked, taken aback. He found her familiar, but he reasoned it was because he’d been following her on social media for so long.

“No.” He shook his head. “We haven’t.”

“Are you sure? It’s just…I feel like I’ve heard your voice somewhere.”

“Maybe watching something in the press?”

“No, I don’t watch that stuff.”

“Social media?”

“No, I don’t follow anything football related.”

He shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got.”