Page 62 of Once Upon A Player
After I emerge from the bathroom, I go into Mum’s room to say goodbye.
“You look lovely,” she says, holding my hand. Lucas said it was strictly casual tonight, so I’m just wearing jeans with a new summer top. “Say hi to Lucas from me. I’m sorry I won’t get to meet him tonight.”
I squeeze her fingers. “That’s okay. Are yousureyou’re feeling better?”
“I’ll be fine once they sort out my meds. Don’t you worry about it, sweetie. Just enjoy tonight, you hear me?”
Before I can answer, the doorbell chimes. He’s early. I kiss Mum’s cheek. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, okay?”
Worry flashes across her face, and I don’t think it’s got anything to do with her pain. Guilt twists through me. I don’t want her stressing about me, but I don’t have a clue what to say because there’s no way I’m discussing my revived sex life with her.
Luckily, Katie’s voice from downstairs distracts us both. Wait,Katie’shere?
“I have to go.” I give Mum another kiss and go downstairs, not sure if it’s funny or annoying that my best friend has turned up to give my boyfriend the once-over.
“Hey,” she says, all innocent, as I go into the front room where she and Dad are and Sam’s playing a game on his tablet. “I thought I’d bring next week’s work roster round for you.”
The lie’s so blatant that after a couple of seconds of silent disbelief, we both snort with laughter. “Thoughtful,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I’m all heart.”
We’re interrupted by the doorbell again, and I dash out of the room before Katie or Dad can do the honors. It’s Lucas, and he’s wearing an open-necked shirt and casual jeans. He looks as though he just strolled off the cover of a magazine. I give him a quick kiss and breathe in his intoxicating cologne before Katie and Dad saunter into the hallway.
“Lucas, this is my dad.” I’ve never introduced him as my stepdad, and after Geoff met my family he told me that’s really weird, which hurt. But I’m not letting my ex dictateanypart of my life anymore, and Lucas would never think something like that, in any case.
“Pleased to meet you.” Lucas strides forward and shakes Dad’s hand, while Katie gives him a not-too-subtle, head-to-toe eyeball.
“Same,” Dad says.
“And my friend Katie.”
“Hello, Lucas,” she says in the posh, upper-crust voice she uses when on the phone at work. I glare daggers at her, which she ignores as she holds Lucas’s hand longer than strictly necessary. “I’ve heardsomuch about you from Violet.”
“Not all bad, I hope.” He grins at her, and she must thaw a bit because she smiles back.
“Not all of it, no.” At least she’s dropped the fake accent, which is a clear indication that she doesn’t entirely disapprove of him.
“So, Lucas,” Dad says, and then they talk football for a couple of minutes while Katie and I communicate by way of facial expressions and eye rolls behind Lucas’s back. It’s a little surreal, and I have the terrible feeling I’m going to laugh if this keeps up much longer.
“Daaaaaad,” Sam whines as he comes into the hall. He stops dead, and his mouth drops open as he gazes at Lucas.
“My kid brother,” I supply, helpfully.
“Oh. My. GOD.” Sam has a real flair for the dramatic sometimes. “You’re Lucas Carter! That header you scored against Arsenal was the best strike of last year.”
I really should’ve arranged to meet Lucas at his place.
“Hey.” Lucas gives my brother a high five, and the thrill on Sam’s face is priceless. “You follow United?”
This prompts Sam to tell Lucas just how much he loves United, and every player in the club, and he feels the need to name everyone individually, just in case Lucas wasn’t aware who he’s played with. He also gives Lucas a rundown of all his greatest career moments, including where he was born and what age he was when he signed his first professional contract.
“Right, Sam,” Dad says, clapping him on the back, but Sam doesn’t get the hint and grabs Lucas’s hand with the intention of dragging him upstairs to show him all the posters on his bedroom wall.
Postersandbedroom wallgive me gruesome flashbacks to Monica’s comment in Overton’s, so I grasp my brother’s wrist and attempt to dislodge his death grip on Lucas.
“Another time,” I lie, because seriously, there’s no way Lucas is ever going to want to come round here again, even if hewasn’tflying off to Spain at the end of the month.
“I’d love to see all your posters,” Lucas says. “But Violet’s right. Can we do it another time? I’m seeing my dad tonight, and I can’t be late.”
