Page 121 of Worth Every Game

Holy shit, she hears me?This has to be the first time she hasn’t hit back with her version of reality, denying mine entirely. It’s probably the best I can ever hope for from her.

An electric silence falls as Mum observes me. I pick up my phone from the kitchen counter, determined to ignore her as I search for Elly’s latest song. The one she played last night. She released it yesterday.

She must have done it after the fight in the Marchmont. It’s gone crazy on social media, especially after the news in the paper. The fight. The whole fucking showdown.

The song is going to be huge. And not because of all the scandal attached to it, but because it’s damn good. You can feel the heartache and pain in it. And those lyrics…

“Have you heard from Lydia recently?” Mum’s voice crashes into my head.

“No, and I don’t want to. I’m not interested.”

Mum leans back in her chair, crosses her arms over her chest, and tilts her head to one side. I know this look well. It’s the ‘I’m in the right, you’re in the wrong, and I’m going to stare at you until you bow to my will’ expression.

But I’m not going to do that today. “You have crap taste in women, Mum. Lydia stole those photos of Elly from my phone. She spread them all over the internet. It was vicious and cruel, and the fact that you thought she was a good fucking match blows my mind. I’d rather cut my balls off and eat them than have anything to do with Lydia Archer again.”

Mum’s lips tighten further like she wants to suck them into her mouth. With a pop, she releases them and says, “You might be right.”

I nearly choke on my next breath. I must have misinterpreted her earlier expression because that was not what I expected her to say. I’m immediately wary. “What do you mean?”

She pulls out her phone, scrolls a moment until she finds what she’s looking for, and then turns the screen to me. It shows a glamorous headshot of Lydia, and when Mum scrolls down, there’s a second image of her being ushered out of her house flanked by two police officers. “Breaking news. Lydia’s been arrested.”

It’s happened, then.“Jesus. What for?” I ask, feigning surprise.

Mum’s eyes narrow. “Sharing intimate photos. Your photos, I assume.” She tuts and rolls her eyes. “Don’t think I can’t see you and Nico Hawkston all over this, darling.” I hold my hands up in a ‘this is nothing to do with me’ gesture, which Mum ignores. “You always have to fix everything for everyone, and if you love Eleanor as much as you say you do… Well. I dare say Lydia deserves it, but I find it all so hard to believe. She seemed so lovely. I’m quite shaken about it.”

“I’m not. This is bloody wonderful news. She absolutely deserves it.” I scroll through the article, then slide the phone back across the table to Mum. “Don’t mention her to me again. Ever.”

Mum’s mouth flaps open and shut, audible puffs of air ejecting from it.

I want to laugh at how ridiculous she looks, but before the sound leaves my lips, a car horn honks aggressively outside, and we both pause to listen to it. Mum opens her mouth to speak again when the horn repeats.

With a scowl, she gets out of her chair and goes to the window, peering out. “There’s an awful car out there. Dreadful orange thing.”

Orange?

I’m out of my seat before I can process the fact my body has moved.

Mum’s calling after me, but I’m skidding to the front door, the leather of my loafers sliding like ice skates. I haul open the door, and my heart stutters, missing a beat entirely when I see Elly getting out of that damn Lambo.

She’s here. She’s finally here.

When she reaches the top step, stopping so close I could touch her, we simply stare at one another. I notice all the golden threads in the blue of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the pale pink of her lips.

My Elly.

“That guy at the Marchmont lost his front teeth last night. Did you know that?” she asks.

“I did not know that,” I confirm.But I’m not fucking sorry.

An awkward silence fills the space for a few beats.

“Can I come in?” I hesitate and Elly shrinks a fraction. “If you’re busy—”

“No. It’s not that,” I blurt. “I’d love to invite you in, but Mum’s here.”

“Who is it?” Mum calls from the kitchen, and I see Elly stiffen just as Mum’s heels clack out into the hall behind me. “Oh. Eleanor. You’re back. What wonderful timing. Jack hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Mum paces until she’s right beside me in the doorway, the two of us blocking Elly’s entry. “I assume she’s coming in?” Mum asks.

“She?” I say pointedly.

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