Page 31 of Storm in a Teacup
“I want something in return.”
“I can flash you my tits,” she offers.
“While I wouldlovethat, I was thinking something a little less physical. A favor. Nothing specific yet, but when I need a favor, I have you to call on.”
“That can be arranged.” She sticks her hand out for me to shake. I crawl down the bed and extend my hand to meet hers, soft and delicate in my grip. We shake, and she says, “Deal.”
“Deal.”
…
I meet Paul at the tube station that will take us to Stratford. I’m wearing a T-shirt and joggers with trainers that I’ll replace with boots on the pitch. Paul’s lending me an extra pair. He grins when he sees me, and man, is he handsome. However, one look in his blue eyes reminds me of another pair I like a lot more.
The temptation is hanging in front of me like a carrot on a string, though, because if anything were to happen with Paul, it wouldn’t mean anything. That’s the difference. With Linny, taking it anywhere would meansomething. I can feel that fact deep in my bones. But I can’t give her everything she deserves yet—and she doesn’t want it. Paul on the other hand…
No, no. I can control myself.
“You and Linny have a good night after we all left?” he asks as we wait for the tube.
“Aye,” I say. “Just went back to the hotel, had a shower, and went to bed.”
“That all?” he asks.
Oh, shite. If we were dating, the sexual energy I felt last night could have been directed toward Linny. We certainly could havedone more. I cock a smile and lie, “Well, neither of us showered alone.”
He gives a single nod. “Right. Nice.”
That probably wasn’t exactly what he was asking, was it? I quickly nudge the subject away from me. “How about you? You were talking to that one bloke at the club for a while.”
“Yeah, nothing happened. Got his number.”
The train comes and we step on, taking two free seats. I will say, I think the London Underground is pretty clean compared to other cities I’ve visited, but I have never understood why the seats have to be carpeted. That’s not the case in New York City, say, and I can see how it provides for a much easier cleanup. I mean, can you imagine the amount of piss in these seats? Or simply just absorbed sweat?
We get off the train once we reach Stratford, and I let Paul guide the way. I have never been to this part of London before—not as if I’m a West Ham fan. Paul takes a turn, so we walk through a collection of shops and restaurants. As we reach a long stretch of road, Paul pauses, looking at his phone and then up at what’s in the distance before him.
London Stadium. Where West Ham United plays.
He mumbles at his phone, “No bleeding way.”
“What?” I ask, trying to see what he’s googling.
He sighs, then starts typing a furious text. When his phone buzzes, he sighs again and then pockets the phone.
“Sodding bastard. He only gave the address, I guess to make it more of a surprise? Or pretend to be humble, I’d wager. I figured we were headed to a pitch by West Ham.”
“Are we not?”
“No. The bastard booked our match at London Stadium.”
Paul starts walking with determination toward the stadium. I follow after him, feeling incredibly confused. Who the hell has the money to do this? “Who? Julien?”
“No. Atti.” I cringe at the name. “His father is a very well-compensated sport agent, and is from a distantly noble family, so he has a lot of connections. Apparently, this is one of them. I cannot imagine how much he paid for this.” Paul shakes his head. “Atti’s fine and all.” I doubt he means that. “But he tends to wave his money around like a shield. Or a prize, if you’re lucky enough to be chosen. It’s exhausting.”
“I can see that,” I agree. Linny vaguely implied Atti came from money, but she did not imply it wasthiskind of wealth. “From what I saw last night, Atti seems like an exhausting person.” I swallow. “He’s not very nice to Linny.”
Paul nods. “Yeah, from what little Mel has said about their breakup, I’ve gathered that. Mel made it sound like it was something he said more so than did to pull that final straw. Which, more power to her. You and Linny seem like you’re much better suited. For one, you’re nice to her.”
“I always plan to be,” I say. It’s simple, really, though many people act like it’s not. Be nice to your partner. Be kind to them. If you have a slip-up, apologize. Not that Linny is my real partner, but the same idea applies.
