Page 62 of Playing for Possession
“We’d better work on our visa applications. We’re moving here. I’m never letting you out of this country,” I said.
She chuckled. “I’m sorry?”
“There’s going to be a lot of paperwork. This is why I was opposed to Brexit. It’s making my love life difficult.”
Her smile widened. “I was also very opposed to Brexit. I had a banner and a poster in the window.”
“There we go. I love that we have so much in common. Will you come back to bed after your shower?”
A tiny line appeared above her nose. “Why? You think we could do something else from the list?”
“I thought we could just be . . . together . . . in the bed.”
She frowned. For a terrible moment, I thought she might laugh at me, but somehow I held my nerve.
A smile touched her lips. “Together? You mean you want to snuggle?”
There had to be a better word. Snuggling was for puppies and teddy bears, but yes, I wanted to snuggle. If Sean Wallace or any of his sidekicks in the locker room could hear me now, they’d be howling with laughter. I wasn’t known for my softer side, and I’d never show vulnerability to any of those wankers. Not that I gave fuck about any of them. They could think what they wanted.
I wanted to keep this woman cherished and in my arms, because apparently now I’d turned into a guy who needed to snuggle after sex. I needed to make sure she was OK. The urge to hold her and take care of her was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
I swallowed past a sudden sharpness in my throat. “I know it’s not on the list. You don’t have to. Just if you want to come back—”
“Yes. I’ll come straight back. Sometimes, I need space to process things, but I promise you, I’ll always come back.” She cupped my cheek with a smooth palm. “Snuggling could be on the list. I like it too.”
We lay in Joanie’s bed with the balcony doors open, letting the sunlight in.
Joanie traced her fingers absently over the hair on my chest. Her voice was soft and tremulous. “I had a crush on you, you know.”
“What? When?” I couldn’t keep my surprise from my voice.
“I used to watch you on the TV when you played in Spain.”
My brow lifted. She glanced up at me and her cheeks pinked.
“I was watching when you scored the goal the year that Madrid won La Liga.”
“You liked that one?”
She let out an incredulous snort. “Are you kidding me? It was the most amazing goal I’ve ever seen. Their entire team was in the box attacking. You moved like lightning. One end of the field to the other in a heartbeat. That was the perfect breakaway goal. Everything about it.”
That goal had been the one that meant the most to me too. The match had been overshadowed by controversy when I’d been sent off for arguing with the ref. It had still been the highlight of my career. Nice that Joanie had seen it.
“I do love a good counterattack. They break down your defenses, so you obliterate theirs.”
She smiled. “You were so exciting to watch. I wanted to be like you. I wanted to play professional football.”
She peered at me with affection and warmth. I stroked her hair back from her face. “And you made it. That takes guts and determination.”
“I had to have determination. It wasn’t like anyone around me supported me. My parents were too busy.” She chewed her lip. “I had this friend, Sally, and I always got a lift with her mum to training. No one ever came to watch me play.”
“Never?”
Hard to imagine doing this without support. My mum had been a constant presence on the sideline for Jack and me.
Her voice was wistful and faraway. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s the real reason I signed for Calverdale. I had offers from other clubs, but I knew if it was Calverdale, then at least my dad would come. At least he would support his favorite team, even if he didn’t have the time to support me. I had to have so much drive to keep going. There wasn’t a team for girls when I was really little, so I had to play with the boys. People used to shout stuff at me from the sidelines, but I had a thick skin when I was a kid. I used to be... more confident. Now my dad thinks I’m percussion.”
“What do you mean?”
