Page 86 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
“Hmm. Can’t relate.”
Laughter rumbled past my throat. “It’s not for everyone.” I tapped my fingers on the wheel, debating whether to release the question sitting at the tip of my tongue.Screw it. “Have you thought about getting your own? I know you don’t like taxis…”
I trailed off, letting her fill in the gaps. It was a sensitive topic, but we weren’t strangers to those.
Luckily, Scarlett didn’t appear offended. “I thought about it, but...” She shook her head. “No. I’d rather take the tube. Besides, city traffic is a nightmare.”
“Fair enough.” I didn’t push the issue. “I’m happy you’re doing the showcase. It should be a good time.”
“Me too.” Her face softened. “It’s nice to sit in on rehearsals again, even if I’m only watching. It feels…I don’t know. It feels like I’m part of something bigger than myself, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”
“I know what you mean.”
It was one of the reasons why I loved football instead of, say, golf or tennis. Every team had its top performers, but at the end of the day, winning was a group effort. It was a brotherhood—at least, it was supposed to be, when it wasn’t weakened by perpetual infighting.
Goddamn Vincent.
The indirect reminder of Scarlett’s brother put an instant damper on my mood. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be stuck on this merry-go-round of emotions. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have met Scarlett in the first place. Life would be much simpler.
However, the thought of never meeting her sent an unpleasant chill through my chest. We’d known each other for two months, yet I couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t exist in my orbit.
Even when caution kept us at arm’s length, seeing her was the highlight of my week.
I snuck a peek at Scarlett as we entered her street. She stared out the window, her brow furrowed, her expression seemingly lost in thought.
I’d give Clive his hundred grand back in exchange for the ability to read her thoughts right now. The night had been a roller coaster of surprises, but the elephant in the room—the quiet admissions we’d allowed ourselves before Ivy’s return at dinner—remained undiscussed.
“I guess neither of us won the wager,” I said, breaking the silence.
“I guess not.” Scarlett pulled her attention away from the window as I pulled up in front of her flat. “But I’m sure Ivy will agree to a second date if you call her up. You’retheAsher Donovan.”
Her tone contained lighthearted teasing, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was still distracted by something.
“I’m not sure she will,” I said. “And I’m not sure I want her to.”
The engine cut off, bathing us in silence.
Moonlight poured through the windows and highlighted the emotions fluttering across her face.
The elephant grew larger, pressing against the windows and into my lungs until it was hard to breathe.
If there was ever a moment to rethink our pact, it was now.
Come on, darling.
Just when I thought Scarlett would give in to the haze thickening the air, she tore her gaze away from mine.
“Thank you for the lift,” she said, her voice steady but her fingers shaking slightly as she unbuckled her seat belt. “And for dinner. It’s been…an interesting night.”
My eyes lingered on her for an extra beat before I faced forward again, my jaw tight. “You’re welcome.”
I didn’t offer to walk her to her door, and she didn’t look back as she scrambled out of the car and into the building like the hounds of hell were nipping at her feet.
However, I did wait for the lights to switch on in her flat before I left.
Frustration chafed beneath my skin. I couldn’t marshal my thoughts into any semblance of order. They scattered all over the place, ping-ponging between reason and emotion, practicality and desire.
I wish I had someone to talk to about this. My old teammates at Holchester weren’t speaking to me, and Adil and Noah were on holiday with their families. Even if they weren’t, I didn’t know my teammates well enough yet to unload on them about my love life.