Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Just no.
No, no, no.
So wrong.
That was almost as traumatizing as walking in on them having sex.
I threw away the thought.
“No strings attached?” I raised an eyebrow at this new and enlightening information.
“No!” Elle shook her head at me. “That’s enough. We don’t need to hear more about their sex life.”
I gestured to her. “You do realize they had sex to have you.”
Elle’s eyes flashed with horror. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”
Delighted, I deadpanned, “Over sixteen years ago, they had sex. Probably a lot of it. And you know what, they probably still have sex.”
“We do,” Mum and Dad said in unison.
Everyone laughed as Elle made a gagging sound.
“Though, apparently, not tonight.” Mum took an aggressive bite out of her cheese-filled fajita as she glared at Dad.
Dad wiped his face with a napkin and grinned wolfishly. “Nothing you could say or do will put me off, babe.”
“Not even farting?” Uncle Adam quirked an eyebrow.
“Will people stop talking about farting?” Grandma Elodie groaned.
Elle huffed. “And parents having sex.”
“Aye, what she said,” Sophia agreed.
“You know your parents are just as in love,” I told my cousin. “They’re most certainly still having a lot of sex.”
Sophia grimaced. “You know, it’s such a delight to have you back at these dinners, Beth. We’ve missed you. Really.”
I grinned. “Aw, thanks.”
“I don’t know why everyone says you’re my mini me.” Mum shook her head. “You are your father’s daughter. Shit-stirrer extraordinaire.”
Grandma Elodie sighed heavily. “I’m not sure any of this is appropriate dinner conversation.”
“Mum.” Aunt Ellie chuckled. “When has this family ever had appropriate dinner conversations?”
“That doesn’t mean we should give up trying.”
“Speaking of sex … Beth.” My brother had a wicked look in his eyes. “Have you had any since that time with that bloke in his Volvo?”
“Luke!” All the adults at the table exploded in outrage as I almost toppled my wineglass from laughing so hard.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CALLAN
It’s hard to describe how it feels to run down a football pitch with the sound of blood pumping in your ears and thousands of voices chanting, “He’s slick, he’s class, he’s faster than the Flash, Callan Keen, Callan Keen!”
The high is incredible. It always propelled me down the field, my feet and brain in sync as I controlled the ball, dribbling and weaving out of the Leith players’ attempts to tackle. The voices of the fans, their belief in me, like a fucking drug turning me into that force they said I was.
Seeing Kaito open, I kicked the ball and he caught it, had to tackle it back off a Leith center forward, and then immediately booted it in an arc toward John. The Leith defender couldn’t get to him in time, and John powered the ball into the back of the net as the opposing team goalie dove the wrong way.
The stands went wild as Botan jumped into my arms to celebrate the goal. That too. There was nothing like the sound of fans losing their minds when you scored. It was uproarious. Deafening. You could feel the sound vibrating like a drum in your chest, it was that loud.
The whistle sounded, ending the game.
Final score: 3–1 to Caley United.
“Well done, lads!” I shouted as I walked into the locker room.
The team cheered back at me.
They were absolutely buzzing with the win, but John’s smile was subdued … he seemed off, considering he’d scored two of the three goals. “You all right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Good game.” He turned away from me.
I glanced over at Baird to find him watching. He had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Before I could ask him if he knew what was up, the gaffer and Sven walked into the room.
We quieted as Brian grinned at us. “Now that’s more like it.”
Whistles, shouts, and curses lit the air with electric excitement.
Brian gestured for us to quiet. “Take tomorrow off. Recuperate. Celebrate, but not too much. You’re back in here Tuesday and we’re going to train hard for our game against Strathmore next week. We’re taking nothing for granted.”
Strathmore United hadn’t played well their last two games.
“Nothing motivates a team more than loss. They’ll be coming for us.”
We nodded.
“Good game, lads. You’re really starting to play like a team, and it shows. Keep it up. See you Tuesday.”
As the coaches filed out and our teammates wandered off to the showers, my attention returned to John.
Baird clapped me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow … let’s grab dinner and a beer.” He jerked his chin in John’s direction as the Canadian wandered toward the shower room, oblivious, lost in his own thoughts.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s the anniversary of his mum’s passing tomorrow.”
Fuck.
John had told us on a drunken night out last year that his mum died of cancer three years ago. The loss had put a strain on his and his father’s relationship because his dad had completely fallen apart. John had accepted the position on Caley only two months later. I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. “He played well, then.”