Page 75 of Sweeper
“Oh, my God.” I laugh and glance down at our feet. “I’m…”
“Impressed? Amazed? Turned on?” He pulls me closer, and the heated look in his eyes hits me deep in my belly.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Perhaps all of the above,” I admit honestly.
His chest shakes with silent laughter as he continues moving with great ease to the music.
“You never cease to surprise me, Soccer Boy.”
“I could say the same to you, sweetheart.”
Daphney
“Daphney Clarke, as I live and breathe!” Phoebe bellows as she barges into Old George kitted out in red and white Arsenal football gear.
“Hiya,” I call over to her as I pause wiping down the bar with disinfectant. “You better watch yourself in that kit around here. Especially with tonight’s FA Cup match against Bethnal Green.”
She ignores my warning and props her elbows on the bar. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“That’s ages in a teen’s years. And you know I’m still a child at heart.” She playfully bats her eyes.
I sigh heavily, feeling a bit guilty for being so short in my text exchanges with her. Three jobs and a healthy sex life leave me knackered. “Let’s plan a proper date next weekend. Maybe we can get our nails done? I have that wedding I’m singing in next Sunday, so I could use a little pampering.”
“Sold!” Her face contorts into something akin to speculative. “So come on then. Out with it.”
“Out with what?”
“I’m sure you’re in love with him by now.” She rolls her eyes playfully.
“I am not in love.”
She exhales dramatically. “Are you still sleeping with him?”
“Yes, but we’re not spending the night with each other.” I shoot her a cocky smirk like I outsmarted her for once.
“Well, that’s new.” She nods. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
I laugh and shake my head. “We’re having fun, and that’s it.”
“Well, good. I’m happy for you then.”
I glance down her body once more. “So, what’s with the getup? You’ve never been a football fan.”
Her eyes glitter with intrigue. “You know that guy who I hooked up with in your flat a few weeks ago?”
“Well, I don’t know him. But I heard of him.” I laugh to myself when I recall how angry Zander was when he thought it was someone I was sleeping with. God, he’s cute when he’s jealous.
“He works in marketing at Arsenal, and guess what I scored?” She reaches into her large handbag and holds up two tickets.
I frown over at them. “Is that for tonight’s match?”
“Yep,” she flicks her hand over the top of them.
“Jealous! You two will have a great time.”
“I’m not going with him, you daft cow,” she replies, adding a playful shimmy to her head. “I’m going with you.”
