Page 16 of Sweeper
Fucking keepers. They’re all giants. And glancing over at Tanner, even though I know they’re brothers, the two of them look completely different. Both are athletically built, but where Tanner is blonde-haired and blue-eyed, Booker has a darker complexion and hazel eyes like mine, even if we do have different facial features.
“I hear my dad wants to make you my new best friend.” Booker laughs.
“What?” I ask, feeling a strange sensation sweep over me as I stand here, flanked by two guys who I may or may not have a genetic connection to.
“Don’t scare the lad, Book,” Vaughn Harris’s voice booms down the hallway behind us. The three of us turn to see him approaching. “I haven’t had a chance to tell him all my plans yet.”
“Plans?” I suddenly feel like I have a mouth full of cotton balls.
Vaughn rolls his eyes and places his hand on my shoulder. “You got the scope of it at the press conference with my ideas for the keeper and the sweeper to run the game. But what I haven’t told you yet is that I want you and Booker to get together outside of training sessions. Really develop a connection and chemistry.”
“A bromance,” Tanner offers with a dirty smirk.
Booker laughs and shakes his head at his brother while directing his attention to me. “With you as the potential future sweeper and playing directly in front of me, Dad just wants us to be in sync.”
“Like me and Camden were when we were strikers for this club,” Tanner says, elbowing me like I know the entire history of Bethnal Green F.C.
Which I kind of do. The Harris Ho site is more geared toward the Harris family’s personal business, but I did my own game tape research on the club. The highlights I found of Tanner and Camden Harris, twin brothers playing as co-strikers for their father’s club, one with a strong left foot, and the other with a strong right foot, were incredible to watch. I actually wouldn’t be able to tell who was who if it wasn’t for Tanner’s heavily inked arms and long blonde hair and beard. They practically ran in unison. It was like synchronized fucking swimming but on a soccer field. Bethnal Green fans were devastated when Camden left to play for his current team of Arsenal, but I can’t blame the guy…back when Cam and Tan played for Bethnal Green, they were a mid-level team. They’ve come a long way since then.
Now Tanner is retired along with the eldest Harris brother, Gareth. Booker and Camden are the last two still commanding the pitch for different clubs.
“You don’t have to go so far as a bromance,” Vaughn states, pointing his finger at me. “I just want you and Booker to play…” He pauses as he attempts to think up a word. “Well, like brothers. Camden and Tanner had the sharing a womb thing going for them, but I think if you and Booker get to know each other, you can find a rhythm and be an unstoppable force. Maybe bromance is the right word after all.”
I inhale sharply when I realize I stopped breathing for a second there. Here I stand, ensconced by three Harrises. Three men who…well…fuck, I could be related to. And it feels like the universe is laughing at me with this entire conversation right now. Does Vaughn Harris know something I don’t?
Jesus Christ, that sounds nuts. It sounds nuts because it is nuts. These guys don’t know shit about me. And I don’t care if we do share a blood relation.Football over bullshit, Zander.
I clear my throat and reply with something I can’t even believe I had the balls to say. “Well, consider me a part of the family then.”
They all laugh and clap me on the back animatedly as we turn to make our way out onto the field and into a world I would have never expected for myself.
Daphney
“Boop, boop, boop,” a deep voice echoes much too close to my face, and my eyes fly open in terror as I catch sight of Zander Williams’s finger by my nose.
“What are you doing?” I exclaim, scrambling up off my sofa and standing behind the arm of it to put some space between us. I hold my chunky blanket out in front of me like it’s somehow going to protect me from the psychopath currently standing in my flat.
Zander holds his hands up defensively, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”
I blink back at him as my sleep-fogged mind clears, and I take in the surroundings of my flat. I reach up and touch my nose. “Did you just touch my nose?”
“I booped it.” An awkward smile spreads across his face as he grips the back of his neck. “You were sleeping so cutely. I thought it’d be a funny way to wake you up.”
“Funny?” I repeat, forking my fingers into my messy bun and glancing down to make sure I wasn’t having another wardrobe malfunction in front of him. “You thought it would be funny to break into my flat and touch me?”
His face falls. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds creepy.”
“Because it is!” I toss the blanket down onto the sofa. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s one fifteen,” he says like that should mean something to me. “I texted you about getting groceries. You said to come get you at one. And I didn’t break into your apartment. The door was cracked open. I thought you were waiting for me because I’m fifteen minutes late. I didn’t expect to find you sleeping so soundly.” His eyes move down my body, and I find myself wishing I had that blanket back.
I glance at the clock by my bed, stunned that fifteen minutes have passed so quickly. I remember gently closing my eyes only seconds ago as I waited for him, and I must have dozed off.
Regardless, that doesn’t ever give anyone an excuse to…boop another human. I hit him with a firm glower. “Please don’t ever boop me again.”
“Noted that the Duckmeister is anti-boop,” he replies, rocking back on his feet, looking ridiculously cute. After a moment’s pause, he adds, “So can we still go get groceries, or are you too mad at me?”
“We can go,” I say, trying to shake away my initial annoyance. God, who boops people they barely know? Soccer Boy. Soccer Boy is a total booper. And why does he have to be so cute while being so annoying? It’s an odd juxtaposition I do not like.
