Page 80 of The Tape Job
“I didn’t match with anyone that night. I just went along to keep a friend company.” I don’t know why I lie to him, but it feels like the nicer thing to do. Shit. Is this me indicating that I do want to go for a drink with him?
“Maybe,” I smile, unsure of what else to say. I stand there, waiting for the feelings to come, but they don’t. No butterflies or sparks of arousal creeping through me. Nothing.
Then, as if he’s planned it, Johnny appears behind me.
“We best get back, Vic,” he says, ushering me to the door of the clubhouse. “Who was that?” He flicks his head towards where Neil is still standing.
“Apparently, he was at speed-dating. Says he’s the captain but isn’t playing because of an injury.”
“Huh? I don’t remember him.”
“Were you looking for guys? Is that the reason you changed your mind about tonight?” I prod Johnny in the arm, but the look he gives me tells me I’m seriously wrong.
“Be careful,” he says, leading me back towards the pitch. But Johnny doesn’t realise that even if I did find Neil attractive, I’m too hung up on Liam to act on it, even if it means I’m destined to stay single forever. I think I’m coming to terms with the fact that it’s Liam or nothing for me. Except I have no idea how to tell him.
Chapter 21
Liam
“How’s the house-hunting going?” I ask Ryan as we move to the squat rack. “Jen still refusing to pick somewhere?” We’re in the gym in our building, the usual time, the usual day.
“Yeah, and I don’t understand it. One minute she’s super keen and the next, she’s saying she can wait and there’s no hurry. But Vicky walked in on me getting head yesterday. I’m ready to move out.”
I spit out the water I just chugged. “What the hell?”
“She didn’t see anything,” Ryan shrugs. “But I want us to have our own space.”
“I can appreciate that.” Dropping my voice, I lean in closer. “I learnt Vicky is having some money troubles. Jen probably wants to stay until she knows Vicky is okay financially.”
Johnny is on the other side of the gym; and even though I’m not actively avoiding him, I’m not seeking him out, either. I don’t know if he knows, so it’s best toassume not.
“How do you know?” Ryan asks, loading a cross bar with weights. I fill him in on the events of the photoshoot, his eyebrows shooting up when I tell him about the shoes she listed for sale. “Oh, shit. Does she need some help?”
“Obviously she needs help. But I think she’s fine now.” I look down at my runners.
“Have you paid it off?”
“Well, sort of, yeah. But it’s just to reset things for her. Once things settle, I’ll see if she needs help to budget.” I don’t tell him about taking her key or that I used it to let myself in and find whatever bills I could. And I definitely leave out of the bit about me snooping through her underwear drawer. “Please don’t mention it though, bud. You know she’s proud about stuff, but there’s shit going on with her dad—”
“Yeah, Johnny said she’s cutting him out or something. I can’t say I blame her. If I was Johnny, I’d do the same.” He’s quiet for a moment then he shifts on his feet. He looks serious, as if he’s about to say something important, but my phone rings and interrupts the moment.
Danny’s name flashes across the screen, and I reach down to pick it up. It stops ringing and immediately starts back up again.
“You better get that. Danny never rings twice.”
He’s not wrong, so I hit accept.
“Mate, Vicky’s here and she’s fuming. She literally pushed me out of the way to get into your room. She’s fucking strong for such a—”
“Where is she now?”
“In your room! Going through your wardrobe. She said she’s looking for something,” Danny says.
I stop breathing for a second as panic sets in. I don’t even grab my things before turning and jogging towards the door. I take the stairs two at a time because I absolutely cannot have Vicky going through my closet.
I reach the door to my and Danny’s apartment and fling it open. Danny’s standing awkwardly on the threshold of my bedroom. “I’m sorry, Lee. I tried to stop her.” He steps away.
Vicky is sitting on my bed, surrounded by the contents of my closet. The presentation box that my Maple Leafs jersey came in is open on her lap. I feel sick. I scan the area first, then focus on the box. My jersey looks untouched—thankfully.
