Page 105 of The Longshot

“Oh, Chelsie, I’m just taking the piss.” Ruby nudges me softly. “I’m just happy you’re getting some action. You’ve been less up-tight lately, more relaxed, more limber?—”

“Ruby!” I stop her once more. “Please.”

“Fine.” She settles back into her chair, folding her hands into her lap. “No more sex talk. I’ll change the subject. So, tell me, do you know how much longer till the train arrives?”

I peer down at my phone screen. “Fifteen minutes,” I tell her. “Why? Are you suddenly regretting this choice, too?”

“Nope, what I’m regretting is not getting a snack.” She stands up and straightens out her shirt. “I’m going to go get something from the shop. Do you want anything? Crisps? Chocolate? A drink?”

“A packet of crisps, please,” I respond. “But don’t be long,” I instruct, eyes peering back down at the time. “I don’t want you to miss the train.”

“I’ll be quick, don’t worry,” she assures me as she skips off and falls out of sight.

I rest my head forward, left distracted by my phone for a few minutes, until an abundance of laughter catches my attention.

The sound comes from a group of girls who all stand together, each sporting a matching Crawfield jersey. It’s become my superpower to spot one from a mile away—it doesn't take much to become a fan around here.

“Hey,” I’m compelled to say something as I tuck my phone back into my pocket. “Nice jerseys.” I smile, walking over to them.

“Thanks!” one of the girls says on behalf of the group, proudly peering down at her shirt before she flashes me a smile. “The girls and I are just leaving early to see the game tomorrow. Are you going too?”

I shake my head. I wish I was at the game—truthfully, I’d love nothing more than to watch Gary play. “No, unfortunately not.” I frown. “I’ve got other plans up north.”

“Aw, too bad,” one of the girls remarks. “It’s supposed to be a really good match.”

“I know, but I’ve seen them play a lot already, so that’s okay. But you girls sure are dedicated.” I fold my arms across my chest, impressed. “Traveling all that way?”

“Dedicated?” One of the girls snickers amongst the group. “More like obsessed with the players.”

“‘Players’?” Another counters with. “Nah, we’re all obsessed with one player.”

The comment piques my interest. “Is that right?”

“Yep. I kind of had a thing with him, you know.” She flips her long brown hair over her shoulder. “It was no big deal...”

There’s a sense of pride when she speaks, but little does she realize I’m not the person to brag to. I’m with the captain, after all…

“You’re right, Felicity. It wasn’t a big deal, considering he’s literally been with all of us for at least a night.”

What did she say?

I’m left dumbfounded as I run the players through my mind. Who in the hell are they referring to? There’s at least six girls standing in front of me, and the same guy has slept with all of them?

“Wait a second.” My voice brings the once chatty group to a quiet. “You’ve all been with the same person?”

“I mean, yeah.” They say it like it’s nothing. “He’s always slept around. Ask any girl in Crawley, and I’m sure they’ve had their taste of Gary Wilkinson...”

My stomach plummets.

Did they really just say Gary Wilkinson?

“Felicity was the last one to be with him, weren’t you, Felicity?”

Felicity shrugs yet sports a boisterous smirk. “Yeah, well, Wilks and I were drunk at Tenners together not long ago and what can I say? One thing led to another, and we took it back to his place.” She flashes me a smirk, not realizing just how badly her words sting. “So I thought, hey? Maybe if I go to the game, I’ll get lucky again?”

The girls all simultaneously squeal amongst themselves as I stand frozen in time, attempting to process the racing questions in my mind, but left with no other choice than to dismiss every single one of them.

There’s no way Gary has been with someone else.

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