Page 48 of Forbid It

ROBBIE

What the fuck am I doing? I can still smell Cassie’s berry-scented shampoo that filled the small interior of the car better than any expensive air freshener I’ve had, even as I wait in line at the service station coffee shop.

I run my hand along my face and tug my hat closer to my head, although I doubt I’ll be spotted or even recognized. This place is a ghost town. The only customers are a man sitting in the cafe with a muffin, and another elderly couple in the Edinburgh Wool Mill shop that’s inexplicably in every service station in the country.

I won’t be recognized, but the redhead waiting for me in her car somehow attracts attention without even trying. By the time they’ve finished warming up the sausage roll in the oven, I’m imagining the car being surrounded by screaming fans. I don’t even want anything to eat. I don’t want anything in my body other than what my nutritionist allows, but I needed an excuse to get away from the car.

Jesus Christ.

Why did I let her go on my phone? Why did I let her look through my music? Why did I not remember the playlist I specifically made one evening when I was hard and aching and just wanted to hear her sultry voice crooning in my ear?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and open the app, ready to delete the godforsaken playlist and forget this ever happened, but I can’t bring myself to.

What have I gotten myself into?

As soon as I saw her face when she had that phone call, I knew I had to step in. I’ve never seen her like that before. She’s certainly never been afraid to speak her mind with me but faced with the weight of her parent’s expectations, she clammed up so tightly it was like she was suffocating right in front of me, and I couldn’t stand it for a single second longer.

She needs space. She needs a chance to just be a person rather than The Cassandra that the whole world is watching 24/7. And I can give that to her.

I’m just helping her. Giving her a break. I was going this way anyway, and she’s just taking advantage of my carpool. We’ll spend a few days in Wales, and then she can go right back to her glamorous lifestyle, and I can get back on the pitch.

I’ve only been away from the pitch for twenty four hours, and I’m already antsy. I haven’t even been able to fit in a workout all day because I’ve been at a party chatting to all of Cassie’s perfectly pleasant friends and laughing in a car with her.

“Iwan?” the server calls, and I grab the two coffees and sausage rolls.

I grind my jaw on the way through the station, keeping my eyes down and trying hard not to focus on the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Maybe I’ll leave Cassie the keys and run the rest of the way. How long would that take me? A couple of hours?

I cross the empty car park, but I can already see her standing against the passenger side door, her long red curls cascading down her back as she stares into the middle distance.

“I thought I said stay in the car,” I tell her as I sidle up beside her.

“I didn’t know you were the boss of me,” she replies, tilting her chin towards me.

I almost bite back a moan. Does everything with her have to be an innuendo or am I just way too horny to be around her?

“Here,” I say instead of pouncing on her. “Latte good?”

“Perfect,” she says with a grin as she takes the coffee from my hands.

“Come on, we’re only an hour or so away.”

I round the car and slide into the driver’s seat, quickly turning the radio on before she has any other ideas about snooping through my playlists. Cassie reaches her hands to take the tray off me and I let her, trying hard not to think about the simple domesticity of the act.

I’ve never gone on a roadtrip like this. Even though this journey is less than four hours and it feels like we spent longer than that in her car driving to her house, there’s something about taking a girl home to meet my family that has my brain tripping over the facts. I’m not taking a girl home. I’m taking Cassie.

I’ve barely even given a thought to what’s going to happen when I pull up outside my family home with an incognito pop star, and it’s enough to make me ask myself—again—what the fuck am I doing?

Hi Mum, I didn’t tell you I was coming, but I’m here for the weekend. Oh, and this is Cassie. I’ve kidnapped her. We are Just Friends.

Fuck’s sake.

A rustle distracts me from my impending doom, and I glance over at Cassie, who’s now rummaging through the bag.

“What’s this?” she asks, peeking inside.

“Sausage roll.” I turn the ignition on and let the car rumble to life. I turn over my shoulder to reverse out of the spot and see the grin lighting up her face as she examines the hot sausage wrapped in pastry like I’ve bought her a diamond bracelet in a greasy paper bag.