Page 22 of Surrender
She nods, her tiny four-year-old eyes wet with tears.
“Take Booker upstairs while I clean this up.”
Vi was only four and struggling to pin down a one-year-old, and I was taking care of our dying mother. Now Dad’s changing nappies and hosting Sunday dinners like we’ve always been one big happy family. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember what it was like before Mum died. Other times, it feels like only yesterday.
Vi turns to Tanner. “Why do you say Gareth has a girl problem, Tan?”
“Just a feeling,” Tanner answers smugly. I glare at both of them while they discuss me like I’m not right fucking here. “That and I think he was shagging his personal shopper when Belle and I went to Manchester last year to watch Cam and Gareth play each other.”
Vi gasps. “What do you mean? You walked in on them?”
“Well, no, not really.” He looks crestfallen. “But the two of them strolled out of his house looking like cats that got the cream. Right, Belle?”
Belle laughs awkwardly beside him and murmurs, “I wouldn’t say that.” Her eyes shoot to Indie from across the room like they’re having a secret conversation.
Tanner continues, “And last summer, Gareth was adamant about us getting the suits for my wedding from his shopper girl even though I told him I didn’t give a toss what we wore.”
“Nice, Tan!” Belle interjects, jabbing him with her elbow.
“Shush. I’m making a point here, wife.” Undeterred, Tanner swerves his eyes to me, addressing me straight on now. “I think you were trying to find an excuse to be near her, and you were quite disappointed when she rushed in and out like a shot.” Tanner strokes his beard and stares at me with a challenging twinkle in his eyes.
I stare blankly back at him. “I didn’t give a toss how long she was there. I just knew that if the suits were left to you alone, we’d all probably show up in Union Jack tuxedos.”
Tanner pauses thoughtfully, as if he likes the idea. After a second, he shakes his head with a scoff. “Bollocks, Gareth. I think you like her. I think you maybe even looove her.” Belle smacks Tanner upside his ridiculous man-bunned head, and he scowls with indignation.
Vi looks at me with wide, hopeful eyes. “Is there any truth to what he’s saying, Gareth? Do you fancy your personal shopper?”
“She’s a fashion stylist, and she does a lot bloody more than just fucking shop.” I huff out a laugh, completely uncomfortable with their line of questioning and how my entire family seems to be pressing in closer to me for answers.
My head snaps when I feel Camden’s hot breath on my neck. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you with a woman, bro.”
I shove him away. “So what? I’m too busy to manage a woman anyway. I have Kid Kickers, team captain responsibilities, all of your bloody dramas that are a bloody full-time job. It’s enough. Just because you lot are all off getting married and starting families doesn’t mean I have to.”
“Of course it doesn’t!” Vi responds, resting her hands on her hips in that motherly way she has about her. “But none of that means you can’t fancy her. So, do you?”
Shrugging and really hating the fact that it’s impossible to keep a secret in this family, I reply woodenly, “I might have…thought something could…happen between us, but it won’t. End of.” I need to get them off my arse before they fucking show up in Manchester and try to help.
“Not end of,” Camden interjects, still standing way too fucking close to me. “When’s the last time you talked to her?”
I look up at the ceiling, trying to recall what we said when we parted last week. “It had been months before I ran into her by accident last week.”
“Months?” Tanner bellows. “She still shops for you, right?”
“Yes, but she sends her assistant now.”
“She’s fucking avoiding you!” He hoots with laughter, like her rejection brings him great joy.
“But he’s gorgeous,” Indie utters, her voice meek amongst the boisterous sounds of the Harris family.
Tanner and Booker burst out laughing as Camden’s jaw drops with horror. He swerves accusing eyes at Indie, who’s standing behind us, nervously adjusting her cheetah-print glasses. Her eyes go wide as she snaps to attention like she didn’t realise she said that out loud. Even Vi and Belle are failing to hide their snickers.
Indie begins jabbering out an excuse. “In that rougher, masculine sort of way. I much prefer the pretty boy features of my husband, of course.” She reaches up to stroke her palm over Camden’s coiffed blonde hair, and he swats her wrist away in mock disgust.
“Pretty boy?” His face is deathly serious. “I’ll show you fucking pretty.” He bends over, throws Indie over his shoulder, and marches toward the back door that leads to the garden. “Specs and I will be back in fifteen to twenty minutes!”
“Way to go, broseph!” Tanner cheers. “You’re my fucking hero!”
“Language!” Vi shouts, rubbing her temples in small circles.
