by Amy Daws
I guess I was wrong.
I pull my arm down to conceal my ink. “Yeah, he did.”
Daphney flattens her palms along my chest and rests her chin on the back of her hands. She looks so sweet and innocent, her toes pointing up to the ceiling as she swings them casually. “When did you get the tattoo?” she asks, her eyes gazing up at me.
Kissing her senseless sounds like a lot more fun than the direction of this conversation. But I don’t want to be a dick, so I begrudgingly reply, “I did it the night I found out he died before I flew out to be with my mom. Probably not the smartest decision of my life.”
“I think it looks nice.” Her lips purse as she grabs my elbow and holds my arm back up to inspect the tattoo again. “Those B’s are the same as your hat.”
“My dad was a huge Red Sox fan.” I swallow a knot in my throat.
“And you?” She quirks a dark brow at me.
I shrug. “I’m more of a soccer lover, but I was a fan of my dad.”
“That’s really sweet.” A tender look sweeps across her face, and that little dimple in her chin forms again. “Oh, by the way, I have a cookie container on the counter for you to take to your match tomorrow.”
I glance down at her in shock. “You made me cookies again?”
She shrugs. “I put a bunch in the freezer from the first batch I made. It’s not that big of a deal.”
I school my features to look grateful, but knowing that this cookie will taste the same as the last one I had to gut down causes my stomach to churn. Shit, that cookie was awful. And Daphney looked so excited when she gave it to me. It’s like she has no idea what an oatmeal raisin cookie is supposed to taste like.
I could maybe blame her nieces for screwing up the batch, but surely Daphney tasted them, right? Even the smell of the cookie is off. Like it was made with decade-old flour or something. I feel like this is part of a long con, but I don’t want to call Daphney on it in case she actually thinks her cookies are good.
And hell, at least she’s trying. My mom has obviously given up. And it’s not because she doesn’t know how international mail works. She’s figuring out how to send me baseball cards, no problem.
My mood is shifting to a place I’d rather not visit, so I quickly reach down and grab Daphney’s leg to roll us over. Sliding down her body, I place openmouthed kisses along her cleavage and growl with pleasure as her back arches, and she feeds more of herself to me. Her skin is so fucking soft. And her noises make me hard again even though it’s only been five minutes since I last came.
“What are you doing on Sunday?” I murmur against her flesh, wrapping my lips around her hardened nipple.
She groans a sexy noise as her hands fork into my hair. Fuck I love when she does that.
“What?” she asks breathily as she wraps her long legs around my back.
“Sunday,” I say, moving my mouth over to her other breast to pay it equal attention. “We’re in Leicester tomorrow, so I’ll be gone late, but I’m free later on Sunday.”
She inhales sharply as I apply expert pressure with my teeth on her nipple. “I have Sunday dinner at Vaughn’s.”
“Skip it,” I growl, my lips moving down her belly and kissing softly across her navel. It’s crazy how much I’ve become addicted to the taste of her this week.
“I can’t.” She gasps and curls into my touch. “Vi gets cross at me when I skip.”
I grumble my displeasure as I nibble her hip bones that jut out slightly. “Can I come?”
“To Sunday dinner?” She whimpers as I tease my thumb over her slit. “That doesn’t seem like a neighbors-with-benefits kind of event.”
I lock eyes with her as I roll onto my shoulder and push my middle finger deep inside her. Daphney sits up on her elbows, her eyes hooded as she lets out a soundless cry. I bite my lip and pump slowly in and out of her.
“It’s been ages since I’ve had a real family dinner.” My eyes struggle between staring up into her stunning eyes or watching what I’m doing to her body. “You don’t think Vaughn would mind, do you? He’s my manager after all.”
Daphney groans, her head sagging backward with loss of control. “My brother Hayden might mind, and he’ll obviously be there.”
I laugh and still my finger inside her. “We’re not going to tell them we’re fucking. Just tell him you’re being neighborly.” I dip my head to kiss her soft belly. “It’s not a lie.”
She eyes me warily for a moment, her hips thrusting up and forcing my finger to move inside her. “Don’t stop. You’re right there.”
Smiling, I ignore her request for me to continue stroking her G-spot and decide to roll my thumb over her clit instead. Her head falls back as she lets out a guttural moan. She likes that too. We’ve only been sleeping together for a week, and she’s become really good at telling me what she likes.
“Can I come?” I ask again, pushing a second finger inside her and curling them upward.
Her entire body tenses, and I can tell she’s on the precipice of another orgasm. God, she’s so responsive. I could climax just watching her.
She grinds against my hand and nods feebly. “Fine, whatever. Come to Sunday dinner. Now finish what you’ve started, Soccer Boy, or I will make you pay.”
With a victorious smile, I swap my finger out for my tongue and savor in the double victory of her orgasm and my scored invitation to Sunday dinner.
Zander
“Don’t wear the hat,” Daphney states, her eyes blinking nervously at me from the driver’s seat of her car.
“Why not?” I ask, removing it and combing my fingers through it because I’m sure it looks like shit now.
“It’s very American and way too casual.” She stares at the gated entrance of Vaughn Harris’s house in Chigwell with a look of dread.
“Should I have worn a suit?” I inquire, anxiety prickling my mood. “You said a button-down was good enough.”
“It is. You look fine.” She tears her gaze away from the house, and her eyes soften as she takes in my appearance. She combs her fingers through my hair that’s getting really long because I’m in serious need of a cut. “You look great actually.”
“Why are you so nervous then?” I ask, my tone crisp because if anyone should be nervous right now, it’s me. I’m walking into the home of a man who may or may not be my birth father and hoping to extract a lock of hair like a total serial killer. Pretty sure I should be the one freaking out right now.
“I just should have thought about this more,” she rushes out, wringing her hands in her lap. “I don’t want my brother to think you and I are together. That would be very, very bad.”
“Well, I don’t want that either, but why exactly are you so worried about it?” I’m surprised that I feel slightly offended by her statement.
She exhales heavily and chews her lip. “Because it’s too soon after all the drama from last year.”
I frown at that odd reply. “What the hell does that mean? What drama?”
She swallows and turns her blazing blue eyes at me. When she looks straight at me like that, it often takes my breath away. I don’t think Daphney has any clue how stunning she is.
“Well, I ended up taking my last boyfriend to court, and it cost my parents quite a bit of money.”
“Come again?” I ask, my voice taking on a strange tone as my hands clench to fists on my lap. “Did he…did he hurt you?” I’m shocked at the rage billowing up inside me. The fact that any man could hurt someone as sweet and innocent as Daphney is making me see red.
“He didn’t hurt me physically, but he did steal from me.” She shakes her head like it’s a memory she doesn’t want to revisit.
I frown, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s a long story and you don’t need to hear all the gory details. Just please don’t give my brother any impression that you and I are sleeping together, okay? None of that winking you did in front of my other brother that day I was giving Marisa her piano lesson.”
&n
bsp; “I winked at you?”
“Yes,” she snaps. “And Theo called me afterward to ask if something was going on between us.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’re a manwhore flirt, and you’d probably wink at a streetlight.”
“Ouch,” I pout but can’t help but laugh. She’s sweet and savage. It’s a strangely sexy combination.
“Sorry, but am I wrong?” She looks at me sheepishly.
I harrumph my disapproval. She makes me sound like a horndog who would hump any nearby leg. I like to think I have some standards. “Just keep your distance, and we should be fine,” I grumble, annoyed that it seems like I’m the weak one when it comes to our attraction to each other.
She pats me on the arm and moves to get out of the car when a rush of dread shoots through me. I grab her hand and stare at our fingers interlocked together. I shouldn’t be using her like this. I shouldn’t have guilted her into inviting me today. She’s way too nice to be taken advantage of like this. And I really shouldn’t be going to these sorts of lengths to figure out if Vaughn Harris is my actual father. I turned my whole life upside down because of a stupid fucking letter that may be complete bullshit. What am I fucking doing?
My body is trembling when I feel Daphney’s cool hand touch my cheek as she turns me to look at her. “Hey, calm down. I’m sorry I said that, okay? I don’t see you like that. Not really. And I’m glad you’re coming today. I’m sure it’s hard for you to be here in London all alone so soon after losing your dad. But this will be good for you. It’s healing to let people in. To find new connections. It’s going to be great. The Harrises are very welcoming.”
I swallow the knot in my throat. “I don’t think I should be here.”
And by here, I don’t mean Vaughn Harris’s house. I mean…here, here. Playing for his club, living in his son-in-law’s apartment building, inviting myself to a family dinner. Having sex with a girl who has no idea who I even am. I’m making moves right now that I’ll never be able to un-move.
“Of course, you should be here,” Daphney says, offering me a soft smile that’s so full of hope, it makes me ache inside. “We’re not just neighbors with benefits. We’re friends, right?”
I lick my lips and move in to kiss her. I didn’t realize we’d become friends in all this, but the fact that she sees me like that makes me feel human again. I know I have Jude back in the States and Knight and Link here, but since losing my dad and well, basically my mom too, I have felt so inherently alone. And this girl right here, this neighbor I bumped into? She somehow seems to brighten up the dark spots inside me.
Our lips are just about to connect when a loud smack jerks us apart. Daphney gasps and we both swerve our eyes forward to see a small brown-haired little boy spread across the windshield. He opens his mouth and smushes his nose and tongue against the glass as he emits a horrific high-pitched squeal.
“Teddy!” a voice booms, and I look over to see it’s Booker. He jogs down the driveway and opens the gate before grabbing the boy off the car. He waves at Daphney and me inside. “I’ve been looking for him for almost twenty minutes now. Thought I lost him forever!”
Daphney and I break apart and quickly hop out of the vehicle as Booker clutches Teddy to his chest and offers me a smile. “I heard you were crashing the family dinner today. I should have invited you weeks ago.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” I reply, gripping the back of my neck. “This one yours?”
“I’m afraid so.” Booker laughs and gives Daphney a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come on in, you guys. It’s freezing out here.”
Booker lowers Teddy to the ground, and the little dude instantly comes running toward me. He pulls his leg back, swinging his boot straight for my shin. I lift my foot just in time, and his entire body swings backward when he misses, and he totally yeets it and falls flat on his back.
He lets out a loud squeal, and horror rains down over me. “Shit, I’m sorry, little dude!” I exclaim, reaching down and picking him up to see if he’s okay. It takes a second to realize he’s not wailing in pain. He’s actually laughing. He’s laughing so hard, he can barely breathe. He stumbles over to me and wraps his arms around my leg. I look up at Booker and Daphney completely confused. “Is he okay?”
Booker nods and smiles. “He likes you. And that’s saying a lot because Teddy hates everyone.”
“Okay,” I state, watching Booker and Daphney walk through the gated entrance and up the gravel drive. I point down at the kid still wrapped around my leg. “Should I just…? Okay, I guess I’m giving you a ride to the house.”
“Giddyup!” Teddy bellows, and I shake my head, finally allowing myself to laugh at this super fucked-up moment.
Vaughn Harris’s home is a large three-story mansion with stately pillars, and a bright yellow double-door entrance. A giant staircase greets us when we walk in the front door. Booker points upstairs and tells me this is where his sister and his brothers all grew up as kids and laughs when he remembers all the girls Tanner snuck in through the window.
Booker leads Daphney and me down the long-marbled hallway before turning left through a swinging door to enter the kitchen. Although, at first glance, I can tell it’s a lot more than just a kitchen. It’s one of those rooms where everything happens. And not just because it looks like mass chaos with people everywhere.
On the left is the kitchen with high-end appliances and a long countertop and barstools. On the right is a grand dining table in front of an entire wall of windows and doors that open out onto the large patio. The backyard is surrounded by a wooded area, and I spot a gate that leads into the forest. Looking around at everyone, I can tell there are more people than there are chairs. And the volume of the voices all talking at once is so deafening, I’m not sure I can hear my own thoughts.
Vaughn is in the kitchen next to a blonde woman in an apron who’s screaming at a kid that’s currently standing on the countertop. He spots me and gets a big smile on his face. “Zander! Booker told me you’d be joining us today. Come in, son!” He walks around the counter and greets Daphney, then me. His eyes lower to my leg, where Teddy is still very much attached. “Did you make a new friend?”
I shrug. “I skunked him outside, and apparently, he likes a challenge?”
Vaughn laughs and bends over to peel Teddy off my leg. He screams and kicks but then finally gives in. “My grandson wants to be a striker, don’t you, lad?”
Teddy nods and eyes me. “What do you play?”
My brows lift. “I’m a defender.”
“He’s a sweeper,” Vaughn states. “He protects your daddy when the midfielders muck it up.”
“My daddy doesn’t need protecting,” Teddy exclaims, then wriggles out of his grandfather’s arms and takes off toward the backyard where a couple of other kids are playing on the thin layer of snow that’s just fallen on the grass.
“Teddy is loose!” Vaughn yells, and a woman with short blonde hair that I recognize as Booker’s wife, Poppy, nods and rushes quickly out the door. Vaughn redirects his gaze to me. “Glad you could join us, Zander. Daphney has become a good friend of the family since she moved to Bethnal Green.”
I look at the other side of the room to see Daphney holding her niece Rocky, who I met at the pub when I first arrived in London. Her brother Hayden is frowning at me, and I do my best to redirect my attention to Vaughn. The less I look at Daphney or her brother today, the better.
“Well, thank you for having me. I guess I’ve been feeling a bit homesick.”
“Of course, you have,” Vaughn nods thoughtfully and puts his arm around my shoulders. “Let me introduce you to everyone properly.”
The Harris family is a fertile breed. First, I meet Camden, Tanner’s twin brother. He’s killing it as a striker for Arsenal, and I obviously already knew his wife, Indie, since she’s the team doctor. But I hadn’t met their two children. They have a daughter Bex, who’s two, and their son, Porter, who’s one. Porter has red hair just like h
is mother and seems to have a challenging spirit like his dad.
Then I met Booker and Poppy’s other little boy, Oliver. He was the one on the countertop in the kitchen. Their twins are five years old and have been playing football since they were three.
After that, Vaughn drags me over to his daughter, Vi, who looks really busy at the stove. She’s the mother of the little girl named Rocky who I met when Hayden gave me the keys to my apartment at Old George. Vi chats with me for a bit about all the work that Daphney does in the building. It felt like a bit of an overshare when she said Daphney saved her and Hayden’s marriage by taking over the building maintenance.
She begins to ask me about how I’m adjusting to London when I’m turned around and being clapped on the back by my teammate, Roan DeWalt. I’d completely forgotten that his wife, Allie, is a cousin to the Harris Brothers. Apparently, her dad is Vaughn’s brother and still lives in the States. Their little guy, Neo, is turning one soon.
A couple of unfamiliar faces that I’m introduced to next are Mac Logan, who was the former midfielder for Bethnal Green, and his wife, Freya. They look like a cartoon family with their trifecta of ginger hair, even down to their newborn little guy, Fergie. I heard a lot about Mac’s career for the club when I first arrived at Bethnal Green. Mostly from Knight because they play the same position, and Knight idolized Mac. Mac says he’s happily retired now, though.
Finally, I meet Gareth, the eldest of the Harris Brothers, and to say he’s not intimidating would be a total lie.
“How are you adjusting to Premier League?” he asks, his eyes severe on mine as he offers me a chair at the table beside him.
I hesitate to take it, feeling a bit like I’m about to be interrogated. “It was a struggle at first, but I’m catching up, I think.”
“America doesn’t give enough attention to football…the real football I mean.”
“Yeah, I came over here for a camp when I was younger, and it about killed me.”
“I’ve been trying to expand my youth program called Kids Kickers into the States. Perhaps you have some contacts over there that you could introduce me to?” Gareth eyes me, and even though it’s a question, it feels a bit more like a demand.