Page 6 of Your Second Chance
“A couple of weeks ago, yeah.” She leaned her head against the window. “I moved here with my best friend.”
“Wow.” I glanced her way. “Bet your family’s upset about you moving across the pond.”
Her expression shifted, her gaze drifting outside as if she’d heard the question from a mile away. Then she sighed. “My mom died,” she said quietly, the words coming out flat, matter-of-fact, and way too heavy for a conversation with someone she’d just met.
My brows furrowed as I looked at her, caught off guard. People didn’t justsaythings like that—not to strangers. Sure, I’d wiped puke off her face, but still, we barely knew each other.
“Oh.” She giggled suddenly, though the sound didn’t quite fit. “Sorry. That was weird. Heavy shit.”
I shook my head and reached over without thinking, resting my hand on her thigh and giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Not a problem, love. Sorry to hear about your mum.”
She shrugged, her fingers tracing the rim of the water bottle in her lap. “The least of my problems,” she muttered, like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.
I didn’t respond, just let go of her thigh and gripped the wheel, guiding us out of the training grounds.
She’s weird. Heavy. Odd. Blunt. A mix of things I couldn’t quite figure out yet. I’d never met anyone like her before, and it bugged me more than it should’ve.
“Where do you live?”
“Richmond area. If you take me to the center by the pier, we’re right there.”
“Nice area,” I said.
Richmond was fancy, outside of the center of London, but pricey.
“You’re the assistant coach, Oliver Stone?”
“I’m glad you know who’s driving you home.” I chuckled, which made her laugh.
“I did a lot of research. You were a really good back.”
I nodded a couple times, happy she knew who she was dealing with.
“Then you got promoted this year to assistant coach.” She sat up straighter in her seat.
“That’s me.” I smiled and glanced over at her before turning my eyes back to the road.
“Do you live nearby?”
“Nah,” I replied, easing the car through a quieter stretch of the city. “I’m north of you, in Ealing. I’ve lived there since my playing days, upgraded myself to a nice terraced house when I could.” I glanced at her again as I navigated into the area next to the pier. “You’re looking better.”
She shrugged, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “Guess the fresh air was what I needed the most.”
I pulled the car over, slowing to a stop.
She undid her seat belt with a sigh and reached for her bag. “Thanks for driving me. I really appreciate it.” She paused, her hand frozen on the strap, before glancing back at me. “And, uh, for helping in the bathroom. But if you think we could just... never talk about that again, that would be great.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “What bathroom?”
That earned me a smile, but it still seemed forced.
“Thanks again.” She pushed the door open.
“Hey.” I reached out instinctively, gently wrapping my hand around her arm before she could step out.
She froze, snapping her gaze back to mine.
What the fuck was I doing?
