Page 26 of Payback
“I am,” I reply, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. “They have a beautiful home. I basically have my own apartment, so I really feel like I’m taking advantage.”
“That’s what family is for,” he states firmly. “And with their schedules, those two likely only catch each other coming and going, so it’s good to have someone there to actually use the house.”
“I’m doing an excellent job of feeding their fish while they are away if I do say so myself,” I state with a laugh.
Vaughn frowns, clearly unaware of their precious fish’s backstory. Indie told me all about little Snowflake’s existence when she helped me unpack one night. Apparently when she found out she was pregnant, she was terrified that she and Camden weren’t capable of keeping a living being alive, so Cam went out and purchased a betta fish to prove her wrong. The poor thing was almost dead when I moved in.
“I can’t believe both Camden and Tanner are going to be fathers,” Vaughn states with a huff. “Do you think the world is ready for their offspring?”
I laugh because it’s a very good question. Based on all the background information I had to read about the team, I learned that Camden and Tanner’s reputations greatly preceded them. Camden’s most notable offence when he was still playing for Bethnal Green F.C. was kissing his surgeon in the operating room. Tanner’s involved being caught naked on a London street corner by paparazzi. Thankfully, since settling down with Indie and Belle, those days are seemingly long behind them. Our PR company shouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up any Harris Brother scandals anytime soon.
The one teammate who had a surprisingly squeaky clean track record was Roan DeWalt. When I laid eyes on him at the bar the night of my aunt’s wedding, I thought he looked like a player through and through. But it seems he’s lived a PG life. Only a handful of committed relationships that ended amicably and rarely photographed with groupies. He even has half of his paycheques automatically routed to his mother in South Africa. It’s surprising.
Without warning, Vaughn pushes open a set of double doors and leads me into a changing room full of…
Naked. Soccer players.
Butt naked, wet or sweaty—I can’t quite tell—soccer players.
I catch sight of one guy flicking a towel at the bare ass of another, so I duck my head and shield my gaze. Good-god, if I’m caught ogling several hanging members being swung about all willy-nilly, I’ll be sure to lose my job!Be cool, Allie. Be cool. You’re one of the guys! And you’ve seen penises before!
I stumble behind Vaughn, who doesn’t miss a step as he continues marching on, walking past loads more of naked soccer players positioned at their lockers. Seriously, why are they all completely naked?Don’t they get cold? I thought shrinkage was a real thing! Nothing in this room is shrunken. Shranked? Whatever…I can’t grammar right now, there’s dicks everywhere!
He rounds a corner to another set of lockers and states firmly, “Here we are.”
I look up just as my high heel catches on something beneath me. I make a move to extract myself, but my foot hooks on to whatever it is, holding my leg hostage while my body continues propelling forward. Letting out a yelp, I brace myself for an epic tumble.
But instead of falling down on the concrete flooring like I thought I would, I end up face planting into a chest. A very manly chest. A very manly, naked chest, whose pecs feel like two smooth boulders tensing beneath my twitching fingers that are currently clinging on for dear life.
“Ag, careful…That bag’s a biter,” a familiar voice murmurs on the top of my head as two very large hands wrap around my waist.
I look up and every organ in my body does a somersault as I stare up into the gorgeously pale brown eyes of Roan DeWalt.
Who’s apparently not worried about shrinkage.
Reflexively, I glance down. Thank the good Lord that he has a white towel wrapped around his waist because, if my uncle had to bear witness to his niece twisted up in the arms of a very gorgeous, very naked athlete, I think I’d die a thousand deaths.
With a flirtatious smile, Roan props me back up on my feet and lowers himself to the ground to untwist the strap of the bag from my stiletto. His hand clutches my ankle, sending shivers up from his point of contact to the spot between my legs that I really,reallydon’t want to be thinking about with my uncle standing only a few feet away.
As he rises, he stares brazenly into my eyes. “All right now?”
I roll my lips into my mouth and nod woodenly.
“Roan DeWalt, this is my niece, Alice Harris,” Vaughn states grandly, clearly unaware that Roan and I went on a date two years ago. “She’s the assistant of our PR rep, Mr. Capelle.”
“Nice to meet you,” Roan states with a secretive smile as he reaches out to shake my hand. The shivers return as our hands touch and our eyes lock. Flashes of our night together burst inside my head like they did when I saw him at the club on Saturday night. All the blood in my body begins whooshing up to my head.
“That’s your cousin’s duffel bag,” a Scottish voice sounds off from the bench across the aisle, breaking the eye contact I’m experiencing with Roan. “He’s such a fucking slob.”
A giant, tatted, redheaded man still dressed in his practice gear, stands up, towering over me as he grabs the bag up off the floor. He places it inside of a cubby with the name T. Harris scrawled on the top and turns to face me when my uncle says, “Alice, this is Maclay Logan, one of our midfielders. Everyone calls him Mac.”
Mac offers up his big paw to me, and I reluctantly pull my hand from Roan’s to accept Mac’s. He smiles a playful, boyish smile, looking like he knows all too well what my current nerves are about.
“These are the two men you were needing to see today, correct?” Vaughn asks, folding his hands behind his back.
I clear my throat and reply, “Yes, that’s correct. I have a script I need to run through with both of you for the Win A Date Campaign?” I say it like a question, which makes me sound stupid.
Roan’s smile grows knowingly. “That’s no problem. All right if I get dressed first?”
