Page 123 of The Secret We Keep
I should probably give Mum a heads up.
Dropping Evie to the floor, a waft of sweet honey and crisp apple hits my nose.
She’s close.
My girl. She’s almost within touching distance. And now I have nothing in my hands to distract me.
Grabbing the nearest person, I pull Danny back towards me.
“What are you doing?” he gripes.
I bring him into my side. “Well played today.” I ignore him trying to pull away and sling a hand over his shoulder.
“Paddy. Get off.”
My hands grip him harder when Morgan turns to face me.
Oh fuck, I can see her chest, too.
She smiles at me bashfully, but my eyes drop to the round mountains on her front. This is a whole new light that I’m seeing the girl I’ve spent almost every day with for the past two months in.
She’s gorgeous.
And off limits.
Danny pulls away as Morgan steps closer.
There’s a few awkward seconds that pass between us before Danny breaks the silence. “He did good, didn’t he?” He slaps my back harder than necessary.
Morgan tucks one of the long, curly locks of golden hair behind her ear. “Yeah. You were amazing, Paddy.”
I clam up, unable to open my fucking mouth to talk to her. I’m staring at the knockout girl of my dreams and I’m unable to form any words. Jesus Christ.
Danny, the stupid bollocks that he is, gives me a disapproving look before smirking at me.
I scowl at him, clearing my throat before I manage to say, “Thanks.”
Danny snorts under his breath like we’re teenagers again. “Where’d your friend get to?”
Morgan’s looking at me when I look at Danny, her eyes following my path when she realises Danny’s talking to her. “Who, Sarah?”
Danny nods, looking up at the people leaving the bleachers. “I can’t see her.”
“She told me to let you know that she was up for getting a drink after the game.”
His eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh, you bet your tight, round arse I do.”
I whack his arm, making him grimace as he rubs the area.
“What? You know I’m right.” He nods at Morgan.
Morgan turns away, clearly feeling out of her depth with my mate who has a way with his words.
“Danny, shut the fuck up.”
He laughs. “Alright, Pads.” He holds out a hand to me gingerly. “Tell your mum I’ll have to pass on dinner.”
Mum’s suddenly in his face. “Oh no you don’t, Danny Boy,” she sings, her accent huskier from all her cheering. “I made enough to feed everyone.”
