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Tom nods. “She was. We didn’t have that much money, but every spare penny went to footy stuff for me. Not because she thought it was her ticket to making it rich, just because I loved it so much and she wanted me to be happy. It would have been the same if my passion had been for gardening or kite-flying or something like that.”
I let out a sputtering laugh. The mental image of Tom Whitford running around in the park after a kite, before going home to tend to his garden is just too funny.
Reining in my amusement, I ask my next probing question. “Did you ever see your grandparents again?”
Tom lets out a noise that sounds half-grunt, half-laugh. “My grandad tried to get in touch after Mum died and my career had taken off. I took a lot of pleasure in telling him to fuck the bloody hell off.”
I offer a wry smirk. “I bet you did.”
Fuck, no wonder Tom’s so touchy about his career winding down. The Premier League really has been his whole life since he was sixteen years old.
“And you’ve never tried to find your dad?” I ask, unable to help myself from uncovering every morsel of information he’ll give me.
Tom shrugs. “Wouldn’t even know where to start. Mum never talked about him so either he wasn’t a good guy, or he was just a random hook-up that she never saw again. Either way, I have no interest in finding him.”
I nod. “Fair.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and then he clears his throat and glances away. “Right, so…”
“Thanks, Tom.”
He returns his gaze to me, brow knitted in confusion. “What for?”
“For trusting me with this.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, well, olive branch and everything. You told me about the shit that went down at Lancaster, so it seemed fair.”
“Anything else you want to get off your chest?” I ask in a bright tone, making sure he knows I’m not expecting him to divulge any more deep secrets from his past.
“Well, there is this other thing. It’s kind of big…” he leans over the side of his bed, beckoning for me to meet him in the middle. There’s only inches between us when he confesses in a conspiratorial whisper, “I watchStrictly Come Dancingfor the fit men.”?
I just sit there stupefied for a moment because his face is literally within kissing distance and it’s taking all my willpower not to reach out and just do it. But then my brain snaps back into place and I realise what he’s just said. I fall back against my pillows with a sputtering laugh. “Yeah that’s an absolute fair one I mean, some of those dancers are fit as, and the way their bodies move is hypnotic. Plus, I really like it now they have same sex couples.”
He nods in agreement. “Definitely.”
“Are we mates now?” I blurt out, suddenly needing to know.
A puzzled expression crosses his face. “I thought we already were?”
Really? When did that happen?
Tom sighs at what is no doubt a disbelieving expression on my face. “Archie, I have a grand total of two important people in my life—Courtney and Keegan. My teammates are good lads, but I don’t share things with them. They don’tknowme. I have no fucking clue why, because you can be an annoying little shit sometimes, but I trust you. And I’ve opened up to you more over the past couple of weeks than I have with anyone else bar Courtney. So, yeah, we’re mates.”
I just stare at him in amazement for a moment, before my lips curve into a wry smile. “Okay then. But see, it’s the part where you call me an annoying little shit that makes me?doubt it.”
Tom rolls his eyes and gets under the covers. “Just go to sleep, Archie.”
“Yes, boss,” I say with a smirk.
I hear him grunt something that I can’t decipher before he flicks off the light.
I roll onto my side, smiling into my pillow. As I drift off to sleep I make a mental note to order matching friendship bracelets.
Chapter eleven
Tom
“Okay,youready?”Iask Keegan as we’re about to leave the house. “You want to have a wee before you go?”
