Page 175 of Falling for You
Penny kicks Tanya from under the covers. ‘Stop getting turned on about me and Mike, you weirdo.’
Tanya laughs. ‘Well, I’m definitely going. Annie?’
‘Yeah,’ I grin. ‘Count me in.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nate
‘Here you are, then.’
I look up as Remy hands me a plastic pint of yellowy, foamy liquid. I take it in my gloved hands and immediately take a sip.
We arrived at Stamford Bridge about an hour ago. I met Remy outside Fulham Broadway station at nine in the morning, just like we’d planned the week before. I was surrounded by a sea of football fans, all swarming out of the station, chanting and jostling each other in their blue football shirts, and I suddenly felt a bit like an alien in my green sweatshirt.
As soon as we got into the stadium, I ran to the merchandise stand and bought the first Chelsea shirt I could see, blaming the eye-watering cost on the conversion rate. I pulled it on over my sweatshirt and immediately felt like I’d put some armour on. I may not fully understand the rules, but at least I was now blending in with the crowd.
Remy was wearing his flat cap, jeans and a blue Chelsea football shirt. He held his hand out for me to shake as soon as he saw me. Now we’re sitting in our cold plastic seats waiting for the game to start.
‘Big game, this,’ Remy says.
‘Yeah?’
He nods, taking a sip of his pint. ‘If we win this, we’re back to the top of the league.’
I pull a face, hoping I’m hiding the fact that I have pretty much no idea what any of that means, even though I was trying my best to research it on the subway over.
I take a sip of the crisp lager and feel a chill race under my skin. The stands are beginning to swell with people, either dressed in blue or red. Everyone is buoyant and bubbling with excitement.
‘Thanks for this,’ I say to Remy, gesturing to the stadium.
He nods into his pint. ‘No problem, mate. Had the spare ticket, it’s nice for you to experience it properly.’
I tuck my free hand into my pocket.
‘Have you recovered from squash, then?’
‘Only just,’ I laugh, sticking out my left leg. ‘My calves were absolutely killing me after.’
Remy smiles. ‘You’ll get used to it.’
‘Have you been back since we played?’ I ask.
He takes another sip of his pint, watching as the crowds continue to jostle into the stands, all carrying their pints and chatting animatedly to one another. ‘No, I only go on Saturdays. It’s too much with my job otherwise and, you know, we’re here today.’
I pull my jacket closer around my body and glance at Remy. The weathered skin on his face is prickled with the shadow of beard, his small eyes are creased and surrounded by deep lines and his shoulders are hunched up to his ears.
‘You’re a journalist, aren’t you?’ he says.
I pause.
‘More of a writer,’ I say. ‘I write forTake the Time. It’s a magazine that covers different events. So I basically get sent to events and then have to review them.’
‘Get you.’ Remy raises his eyebrows, impressed. ‘You get to go to some swanky events, then? Where has my invite been?’
I grin. Remy would be the perfect person to take with me to any of the events.
‘I haven’t been invited to any whilst I’ve been in London,’ I say. ‘At the moment they want me to write about my love life.’
