Page 31 of Once Upon A Player
“No chance of me forgetting this.”
“That could be taken more than one way.” She hands me a crusty French stick and bread knife. “At least it’s not raining.”
Instead of the variety of delicatessen-bought dishes I was expecting, she takes out several sealed containers of what looks like homemade food, which sends a warm glow through my chest. No girl has ever done anything like this for me before. As she arranges them on the blanket, I open the wine and pour us both a glass.
“Cheers.” I clink her glass, and she takes a small sip. She closes her eyes and savors every drop, and I’m so fascinated by the way the tip of her tongue slides across her lips, I forget to drink any myself.
“Happy belated birthday,” she says. “We’ve got pasta salad, and watercress, beetroot, and nasturtium salad, and some cold meats. Hope you like it.”
I pull the lid off a couple of containers. “Looks good.” I pile up my plate and dig in. “Tastesreallygood.”
“There’s, um, a pork pie if you want one.”
I’m not sure why she says it as though that’s something bad. “Sure. I love pork pies.” I love most food, and since it’s off-season, I can stuff my face today without getting a bollocking from the coaching staff.
Even though we’re in a public park, it’s strangely intimate sitting on a blanket sharing a picnic with Violet. Her salads are amazing, and the fruit slushie is weirdly addictive, and no one interrupts us for a selfie or autograph.
I could get used to this.
When we’ve finished, she dives into the basket again and brings out a small glass dish of sliced strawberries, four scones, a pot of clotted cream and miniature pot of jam.
“You thought of everything.”
“I didtryand fit a pot of tea in there, but no luck.” She grins at me. “Fresh scones, baked this morning. I didn’t make the jam, though.”
I have three of the scones while she nibbles her way through one. “Any time you want to feed me again, just let me know.”
“I very nearly didn’t give you that invite.”
“Why not?”
She shrugs and avoids looking at me as she packs away her little pots. “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea, and then I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t think of anything to get you.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Hmm.” She hugs her knees, and I stretch out beside her, propping myself up on my forearm. “Well, I always give my friends something for their birthday.”
Now isn’t the time to ask her, but my gut feeling is she wants more, and if I’m wrong, I need to know. “Is that all we’ll ever be? Friends?”
She doesn’t answer straight away, and I can’t believe how hard I want her to say,No, we’re so much more.
“I don’t know.” She hesitates before resting her cheek on her knees, and I guess she’s looking at me, even though she’s still wearing her shades. “Being friends isn’tbad.”
She’s killing me. “You’re so good for my ego.”
She gives a small smile. “I think your ego’s all hype.”
“I’m just putting it out there, Violet. It’s your call.”
“You mean…something like a summer fling?”
I want more, but I’ve never thought that far ahead before. Except now, when I think about Harry and Alice and knowthat’swhat I want. With Violet?
Why not? She’s the first girl who’s ever made me think of stuff like that.
“If you want.”
“Hmm,” she says again, like she’s thinking about it. I trace my finger over her knuckles, and such a brief touch shouldn’t be electrifying, but nothing’s usual when it comes to Violet.
