Page 27 of Keeping the Single Dad
I leaped up. “Let me. I’ll get it for free. Perks of being staff.”
“I’m sure I can stretch to a lemonade.”
“Already? The match is barely underway. Do you want to at least wait until halftime?”
He folded his arms and stared me down with a belligerent glare. “I’m thirsty now.”
Bloody hell. It was like negotiating with a toddler. It had been so long since I’d felt like somebody’s kid and not a parent. I kept my voice calm and gave him a meaningful look. “You shouldn’t go to the bar on your own.”
He wrinkled his nose and eyed a group of guys behind us who were all clutching plastic cups full of beer. “One drink. Everyone else is drinking.”
“It’s never one drink.” My guts churned, but I kept my voice soft. “You know that.”
An excited roar went up from the opposition stand as the other team got possession of the ball. Their striker broke free and sprinted toward the goal. Shit. Alex crouched and braced his gloved hands ready to make the save. My jaw tightened. Alex didn’t look fazed. This is what goalkeepers did. If a striker missed a shot on goal that was one thing, but if the goalkeeper didn’t make a save, then people got pissed off. A goalkeeper could never win a match, he could only ever save it.
Alex’s strong, massive presence filled the goal like a warrior god. He was absolutely mesmerizing. Thoughts of Dad slipped from my mind. The striker hoofed the ball toward the goal and Alex dived. The ball sailed past his fingertips into the back of the net. Alex landed heavily in the mud. A wall of sound hit us from the opposition stand. Damn it. He’d nearly got to it.?
“Alex Fucking McAlister! How could he let that one in?” The angry shout erupted from the seats behind.
A bald, red-faced man, in a black puffer jacket stomped on a plastic cup.
I twisted in my seat and kept my voice polite. “Would you mind your language? There are kids here.”
The guy snorted. Sweat glinted on his bald head and dripped down his wide neck. “It’s a fucking football stadium, love. What do you expect?”
Agitation rippled across my shoulder blades. I was ready to go toe to toe with this idiot but it wouldn’t help matters. He’d just color the air blue with his coarse language and make things worse.
“I’m respectfully asking you not to swear when there are so many children around.”
He glared back at me and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, love.”
I turned back around. The woman who had come to support Alex flashed me a grateful smile. Who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? The hypocritical bastard had got so wound up about my lies, when he’d told the biggest lie of all. Single my arse.
Guilt settled like a cannonball in my stomach. Should I tell her? Didn’t she deserve to know she was with a cheating piece of shit? Not here. Not in front of the kid.
The bald guy behind piped up again. “This team is a fucking shambles, and this new goalie is a joke. He was already washed up at Rangers. God knows why they’ve brought someone so old. They need young legs.”
Alex’s little boy frowned and leaned close to the woman at his side “Are they talking about Daddy?”
The woman swallowed and whispered, “No. Just ignore them.”
Another snap of irritation made me leap to my feet. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Alex McAllister has got more experience than that entire team combined. He’s the only one of them who’s played at international level.”
‘Who are you, love? His fucking fan club? What’s a woman know about football?”
His companion, seated next to him, elbowed him and burst out laughing. “She plays football, you fucking idiot. That’s Lana Sinclair. She’s on the women’s team.”
The bald man snorted and waved a dismissive hand. “They’re worse than the fucking men’s team. You only went up the table because you’ve got that celebrity prick pumping so much money in that you can’t fail.”
My mouth dropped open. How dare he say that? There was a blur of movement at my side. I watched in horror as my Dad scrambled over the plastic chairs up to the higher row of chairs. Dad’s fist landed in the bald man’s face. The man’s head snapped back and the drink in his hand went flying. Cool liquid splattered my cheeks and filled my nose with its malty odor. Shouts rang out as beer rained down on the crowd. Blood streamed from the bald man’s nose. Oh God. I scrambled up to the upper row of seats.?
The man lunged at Dad. Time became too fast and unreal. I threw myself in front of Dad. White hot pain shot through my nose as a fist collided with my face. A constellation of glowing white dots exploded behind my eyes. My head snapped back. Copper laced my tongue. I pressed my hands over the intense throb in my face. Dad threw himself on top of the guy and they scrambled on the grimy stone floor.?
Another guy wrapped his arms around the man who’d attacked Dad, holding him at bay. Shaking, Dad got to his feet. Then someone was tugging my sleeve, dragging me away. My vision darkened. Hot liquid streamed from somewhere over my eyes. The bastard must have been wearing a ring. I held my jacket to the wet gash on my forehead. Hot stinging pain made me take a sharp gasp. My stomach plummeted. I’d wanted to lift Dad’s spirits with some football, not start a bloody brawl. What a mess.
Mel was going to give me so much shit for this.
Chapter 14
