Page 63 of Power Play
I shake my head, laughing as I steal a piece of bacon off Ollie’s plate. “You lot are savages.”
Jacko glances up from his mountain of food. “I baked this morning.”
“Of course you did,” I say. “What was the occasion?”
“Sunday stress bake.”
Dylan mutters into his pint. “What are you stressed about, mate? We won the last two games.”
“Exactly. That’s when things start to fall apart.”
“He’s gotBake Offanxiety,” Ollie stage-whispers. “Thinks Paul Hollywood’s gonna show up and judge his croissants.”
Jacko glares at him but doesn’t deny it. “They’re not croissants, they’re kouign-amann, they’re French. And I brought some.”
Ollie perks up. “Youwhat? You brought pastries and didn’t open with that?”
Jacko pulls a Tupperware box from his bag as if it’s some kind of treasure chest and the entire booth descends into chaos. Ollie grabs one and moans exaggeratedly. “Marry me, Jacko.”
“I’m flattered,” Jacko says dryly, “but I’m not sure you’re emotionally stable enough for commitment.”
“True,” Ollie says, mouth full. “I cried over a TikTok last week.”
Dylan’s watching the chaos unfold, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth, but he still looks distant.
I lean in. “You okay, Winters?”
He shrugs. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“Thinking about your dad or about how Jacko might actually be the best baker this side of Mary Berry?”
He laughs quietly. “Bit of both.”
We lapse into a comfortable silence while Ollie and the rookie fight over the last pastry. Jacko just watches them, his expression smug.
“So,” I say, stretching out, “Sophie stayed over last night.”
That gets their attention.
Ollie grins. “Did you convince her with your legendary charm?”
“More like my legendary endurance.”
“Please stop,” Dylan says, face twisted.
Jacko raises an eyebrow. “She didn’t look like she’d put up with your nonsense.”
“She doesn’t. That’s why it works.”
They all groan but it’s good-natured, and I’m smiling because yeah, it does work. Sophie’s got this way of calling me on my shit while still looking at me as if I’m something worth keeping around. I’m not used to that. I like it more than I thought I would.
Dylan gives me a look. “You serious about her?”
I nod. No jokes, no deflection. Just honesty. “Yeah. I am.”
There’s a beat of silence before Ollie grins. “God help her.”
“She’s strong,” I say. “She’ll survive.”
