Page 28 of Endurance
Instead, all I’m thinking about as I stand under the pounding water, aggressively rubbing shampoo in my hair, are the texts Tanner sent me this morning. A stupid smirk flicks across my face.
Tanner: Do you mind if I pop by tonight to discuss Santino’s email?
Belle: Yes
Tanner: Yes you mind or yes I can come over?
Belle: Yes I mind. I just cleaned and I don’t want you dragging in the clap.
Tanner: Hey, that’s all cleared up now.
Belle: I’m going to be sick.
Tanner: Oh come on, take a joke.
Belle: STDs aren’t funny. I’m a doctor. I would know. I’ll show you pictures sometime.
Tanner: Seriously, I’ll bring food. Whatever you want.
Belle: Fine but this doesn’t count toward the massive favour you still owe me.
Tanner: Duly noted.
Fuck.
I hate Tanner. I really hate him. But mostly, I hate my attraction to him. That dumb, boyish smirk and the way he shakes his head from side to side to get his hair out of his face. And that stupid sweatband I’ve seen him wear around his forehead when he’s on the pitch makes him look like a complete man-child.
But he didnotlook like a child when he was naked in my car the other night. And he didnotfeel like a child when he was pressed up against me in the alley two nights ago.
He certainly kisses like a man.
My thoughts darken to how much more we could have done if we would have been alone. So the thought of him coming over to my flat tonight while Indie is away evokesideas.
Indie’s suggestion to torture him while we go through this whole façade sounds like a fun sort of challenge. However, I can’t seem to quiet the small voice in my head that feels insecure around him.
Tanner blatantly rejected me that night at Old George. Perhaps the chemistry I felt with him was all one-sided? Perhaps he doesn’t even find me attractive? I’m certainly different than the women he’s been banging more recently, that’s for sure. Yes, he’s a scruffy manwhore who you’d think would shag anything that walks, but he’s also a famous footballer. They have stunning women throw themselves at them all the time.
“Bloody hell!” I exclaim, stepping out of the shower and towel drying myself off.
This sense of uneasiness reminds me of Sunday mornings as a child. My mother paraded my brother and me down the stairs for our father’s inspection before we went off to church. Our outfits had to be just so, our hair had to be just right, and our mannerisms had to be completely devoid of anything resembling a human.
Iloathedthat feeling of being scrutinised and I refuse to let Tanner Harris put me back in that place. I need to know if he sees me that way or not. And if I get to torture him a bit in return, all the better.
It’s time to take the power back.
INDIE IS ON THE ROADwith Bethnal Green F.C. heading to God knows where, so I’m acutely aware that Belle and I will have her place to ourselves for the night. It gives me a bit of a thrill because I’m already imagining her naked on her bed, begging me to show her what I’ve been denying us for too long. I’m hopeful that Camden is right and that we can find a way to get through this month with better working conditions than stuffy, scheduled, photographed dates and dull events.
I ring her flat number and she buzzes me in, meeting me at her door wearing nothing but a long, black satin nightie.
“Jesus fuck,” I mumble, nearly dropping the Chinese as I stumble on the last step.
“What?” She quirks a brow like she doesn’t have a clue what my reaction could be about.
I grin. “This night just got a whole lot better, Ryan.”
She bats her eyes and watches me thoughtfully for a few seconds, like she’s trying to get a read on me or something. I thought I was usually a pretty obvious bloke.
“This is a business meeting, nothing more.” She twirls on her heel and strides back into her flat. I have to hustle to catch the door before it closes. When I walk in, she’s rummaging in the refrigerator.
