“Fine,” I say begrudgingly.
“That’s a good lad,” Gaffer says, smiling as he stands. “See you tomorrow, Bradshaw.”
I don’t say another word. I push out of the office and head back into the locker room, shutting the door loud enough to make it clear I’m still not happy about this.
The second I look up in the locker room, I’m greeted by Sebastian, Brennan, and Carlos. All three lined up, arms folded, smirking at me like I’ve just left the headmaster’s office.
Brennan raises a brow. “You get benched, mate?”
“No.”
Carlos grins. “What’d you do then, Cap?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, trying to move past them.
The three of them follow me like we’re in some cartoon. I feel them behind me, just breathing, waiting expectantly for any crumb of information. Misery loves company, I guess.
I sigh. “Gaffer wants me to help the PR settle in.”
“She has a name, you know,” Brennan reminds me. “Addison.”
Carlos whistles low. “Lucky bastard.”
I roll my eyes and grab my things. “Trust me, it’s not a prize. I don’t want the job.”
Carlos claps me on the shoulder. “Switch with me. I’ll take the bullet.”
“Nope,” I say through gritted teeth. “Apparently, as captain, it’s part of my job.”
“Look on the bright side,” Sebastian says with a grin. “If I had to show someone around, I wouldn’t complain if it were her.”
I don’t reply. I let them giggle and go back to talk about their plans for the night. Carlos and Sebastian are hitting up some new club. Brennan will go home to his wife and kids.
And I… I’ll go home to my empty flat, just like every other day.
They’re trying to convince me that having to deal with her will be painless just because she’s hot.
They’re partially right—sheishot. Her blue eyes are like fire and ice all at once. But nothing about this is going to be painless.
She’s here to spin stories. I’m here to win games. End of.
6
flagged offside
DO I WANNA KNOW? BY ARCTIC MONKEYS
Luke and Pippa’s apartment is warm in an effortlessly cozy way. Their building is newer than where I’m staying, and far more sleek and modern, but still feels perfectly lived-in.
They invited me over for dinner tonight, and I’m grateful to finally have a home-cooked meal instead of the pre-made salads I keep buying from the grocery store on my way home every day. I’ve been too jet-lagged to actually pull out the pots and pans, do a proper grocery shop, and make my own meals. Today is the first day since I got here that I finally feel like I’m in the same time zone.
Pippa hands me a glass of wine and curls up on the other end of the sofa. Luke sets a timer for the dinner in the oven and then sprawls out in an armchair.
“So,” he says, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at me. “You made it through the first week. How are you feeling? Surviving?”
“Barely,” I deadpan, though I let a small smile creep onto my face. “It’s definitely been a whirlwind. It’s been a quiet few days, honestly. No major emergencies yet. They’ve got a match this weekend, so they’re all focused on training. I’ve spent the last few days justmoving into my office, getting a system of organization in place, and observing.”
“Observing what?” Pippa asks me, curious.
