Page 90 of Stealing for Keeps
I pick up the ball with his Arsenal teammates’ signatures. His final team. They won the FA Cup that year. I can’t imagine going out like that.
“Hey.”
I jump even though the word is said quietly.
I turn, ball still in hand, to find Vaughn standing in the doorway.
“Sorry.” With a sheepish smile, I set the ball back in its spot. “I couldn’t help myself. This room…” I turn and take it all in. Every team Coach was a part of is represented, the jerseys he wore, team photos… I could spend days in here. Weeks maybe.
“That ball is his favorite thing in here.”
“Who could pick a favorite?”
“Wanna know my favorite thing in this room?”
“Definitely,” I say. What can be better than a signed ball from the FA Cup–winning team?
A small grin lifts one side of Vaughn’s mouth. He walks over behind the desk and opens one of the drawers, then pulls out a bottle of booze. Unscrewing it, he takes a sip, then holds it out to me.
“What is it?” I ask, stepping forward and taking it.
“Twenty-five-year-old Macallan. It’s a three-thousand-dollar bottle of whisky,” he says as I’m taking a sip.
The liquor warms my throat as I swallow. I cough at both the burn and the number.
He takes another drink and then drops it back into the drawer and closes it.
“I’ll take the ball over the whisky any day,” I tell him.
Laughing, he leans against the side of the desk, then scans the room like he’s taking stock of something he hasn’t seen in years. Too quickly, he looks back to me. “How’s your ankle?”
I shift my weight and roll it gently. “Feels pretty good.”
“Good. We’re going to need everyone tomorrow.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He nods but doesn’t move from his spot, and I get the sense there’s something he wants to say, so I don’t go anywhere either. I could live in this room forever.
“How’s everything else?”
It’s an odd question, and I’m not sure what he’s digging at, but I shrug. “Fine.”
Nodding, he doesn’t say more, but the fact that he’s still sitting here says plenty.
“Something else?” I ask, prompting him. As much as I enjoy sitting in here, his silence is awkward as hell.
“Claire.”
Maybe I should have been expecting it, but I wasn’t.
“What about her?” I ask, feeling a warmth spread through me. Claire and I have been spending as much time as possible together. Walking to classes, touching when we think no one is looking, kissing while we should be working on homework. I can’t get enough of her. And maybe Vaughn’s noticed.
“How is she?”
I open my mouth to answer, then close it. “You mean… What do you mean?”
“Skating was her whole world before, and I know how tough it must be now that she’s got the boot off but still can’t compete. Plus, her mom is intense. She scares me.”
