Page 61 of Twist of Fate
He visibly relaxes and shovels a forkful of glazed chicken into his mouth. “Fuck, this is good!”
I roll my eyes. “Please, like you’re not eating gourmet food twenty-four seven now that you’re a big soccer star.”
To say it is weird seeing my ex in magazine ads and whatnot is the understatement of the year. I mean, I get it. He’s wicked talented, donates his time to charities, and with his Argentinian heritage and rock-hard body, he looks damn good on camera.
But I can’t shake the bitterness I feel knowing I was the one who stood by his side for six years, supporting that dream, only to be betrayed in the end.
He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a homemade meal from one of my favorite people.” He takes another bite, looking over at me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Remember when we moved into our first apartment and all we could find in the mountain of boxes were the coffee mugs?”
I laugh, nodding. “We were so tired, we ate cereal out of them for dinner that night.”
“Still one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”
I also remember him getting annoyed with me the next day when I overdid it and had to miss his game.“Come on, Ash. It can’t be that bad. I run five miles a day and manage just fine. Sometimes, you just have to push through the pain.”
My throat feels dry, and I turn away from his intense stare. I walk over, place my glass in the sink, and check my watch. “You almost ready to go?” I ask, needing a change of subject as he polishes off the last of his chicken.
“Yep,” he replies. “Just let me grab my jacket. You know I still can’t go anywhere without it.”
“Regret leaving all that sun yet?”
“Nah,” he says firmly. “I’m where I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
He jogs off to the guest bedroom while I search for my shoes. I wasn’t sure how this whole situation would unfold—having him stay with me—but aside from the occasional reminiscing, he’s been a perfect gentleman. Considering he basically witnessed me doing the walk of shame, I’d say it’s a clear sign that he’s matured.
I finish putting on my shoes just as he reappears in the living room. He’s changed a lot since going pro. He’s gained a lot more muscle—something I didn’t think was even possible. His style is now more polished and refined. Gone are the hoodies and joggers. In their place are designer jeans and watches that likely cost more than a car.
I take a moment to look him over and smile. This is what he has always wanted. It’s what he has dreamed about since we were kids, and even though I’m not a part of it, I’m still happy to see that he’s achieved it.
“Ready?” I ask, rising up to my feet.
He looks me up and down, taking in my slim black jeans and cropped silk blouse. “You look good, Ash. Did I mention that yet?”
“No.” I laugh. “But it’s always nice to hear. Come on, let’s go.”
He follows me to the door as I grab my keys and purse, tossing a leather jacket over my arm. We step out into the hallway, and I lock the door. A moment later, a door opens down the hall, revealing Finn.
Our eyes lock for a fleeting moment, but then he notices Theo standing behind me, and his expression turns glacier.
“Headed out?” he asks.
“We’re going out to dinner.”
His mouth twitches with amusement. “Me too.”
He has barely left the office since I moved in, but now he suddenly has time to go out to dinner. Is he going on a date?
Nope, don’t care. I do not care.
“What a coincidence,” Theo says dryly, placing his hand on my waist and giving me a gentle squeeze. Finn’s eyes narrow at the spot where he’s touching me. “But we should get going. We don’t want to be late.”
“Perhaps we should share a cab then,” Finn suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Since we’re all headed to the same place.”
“What?” Theo and I say in unison.
“Oh,” Finn tilts his head and smiles. “I thought you knew. Damien and Niall invited me. They knew I was a football fan and didn’t want me to miss out on a dinner withtheTheo Vasquez.”
The way he says his name sounds almost complimentary.Almost.
