AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I return to my post, chopping. Fortunately, the kitchen and dining room are connected, so I can keep a close eye on Miles while I help Mom.
Or maybe it’s my father I should be keeping a close eye on. I’m not actually certain who’s worse right now. Dad has immediately started grilling Miles about his last few plays, about the penalty shoot-outs and the red card he got the other day. Miles is taking it really graciously — in fact way more than I would have ever expected. It makes me feel bad to have underestimated him, but I kind of expected Miles to answer a few questions politely then nod along, bored and not afraid to show it.
But here he is, listening more intently to Dad than he ever has to me, answering the questions Dad throws at him and engaging in a level of conversation that I can’t even follow. I guess if you really love the game, talking about it all the time isn’t really a hardship.
I relax back into my kitchen role, chopping everything that my mother throws at me while I listen to the conversation going on in the dining room. Chris has reappeared, clearly having calmed down after coming face-to-face with Miles.
“Mr. Hamilton,” says Chris shyly.
“Please, just call me Miles. I can’t stand that formal stuff.”
“Oh, okay. Miles,” Chris starts again, “which team do you like better? That place you’re from in London?—”
“Croydon,” interjects Dad.
“—or Miami.”
“Hmm,” Miles hums, as if he’s really considering the problem hard. I glance over to see him giving Chris his fullest attention, and my heart swells. “I don’t know. They’re both pretty good teams. Obviously, I'm really used to Croydon because that’s home. But I really enjoyed it here in Miami. I’ve had fun.”
“That's good to hear,” says Dad. “We can't have you going home saying how bad you were treated in the States.”
“God, no, not at all. Everyone’s been great. And I’ve had the best tour guide anyone could ever imagine.” He glances over to me and catches my eye, and an emotion I can’t name washes through me and makes my ears ring. Something between affection and sorrow, maybe.
“I hope you’re hungry,” says my mother, marching over from her place in the kitchen to stare Miles down. “I’m making enchiladas.”
“And that’s just the starter,” says Dad, laughing heartily. “Do you like Mexican food, Miles?”
Miles shrugs. “I haven't really had very much of it. Mexico is quite far away from England. But I’m down to try anything, and it smells great.” Dad laughs heartily at that, and Mom hums in something approaching approval.
Without me noticing, Chris manages slide up next to me and taps me on the arm, making me jump. I swat at him, but he dodges my attack and swarms up to me, standing on tiptoes behind me to rest his chin on my shoulder. “You didn't tell us you have a boyfriend,” he whispers in my ear.
I shake him off and push him away, giving him a dirty look. “Shut up. I don’t.”
Chris raises both eyebrows as far as they’ll go and gives me a look of utter disbelief. “Sure you don’t.”
“Stop talking about things you don't know anything about.”
“Okay,” he says in a singsong voice. “It would be cool, though.”
“What would?”
“You dating a soccer player. Think of all the tickets to games we could get!”
My scowl darkens. “I already get you tickets to games, idiot.”
“Yeah, but knowing a player is totally different to you just working there.”
I flap both hands at him and turn back to the stove where I’ve been tasked with stirring a pot. “Your imagination is getting out of hand. Go away. Unless you want me to make Mom give you a job.” He sticks out his tongue and slinks away.
It makes me wonder, though. What is Chris seeing that I’m not?
CHAPTER 24
MILES
When we finally sit down for dinner. I find it hard to imagine that Olivia's family have any more questions about football for me.
I'm mistaken, though.
