Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“We just won a game.”
“That wasn’t a game win smirk.”
Baird’s head was suddenly right next to mine as he offered to John, “Keen’s got a date with Beth tonight. He’s well excited.”
“Fuck off,” I said without rancor, though I shoved him out of my space.
My friend laughed as he righted his balance.
John cast an assessing eye over me. “When’s the party she needs you to attend?”
“This Saturday. We’re meeting up tonight to go over our game plan. There will be photographers there, so no doubt we’ll be pictured together.”
“It is only fake between you, then?” Baird inquired a bit too loudly. Thankfully, our teammates were making such a ruckus celebrating, I doubted anyone heard.
I eyed him. “Let’s not talk about it here.”
Baird got pulled into the celebrations, so the subject was dropped.
However, it didn’t take much to deflate my mood only a few minutes later.
Walking out of the stadium with the lads toward our car park, Danny the security guard stopped me in my tracks with, “Think your dad wants to see you, Mr. Keen.”
I glanced sharply at him. “What?”
Danny didn’t pick up on my tone. He grinned. “From what I hear, he was in the stands, proud as anything. Kept telling everyone who would listen he was your dad.”
My pulse raced. “Where is he?”
The security guard nodded to where a small crowd of fans were watching the team leave the grounds. And front and center at the security fencing stood Gavin Urquhart.
A crushing sensation weighed on my chest as I abruptly nodded at Danny and strode toward my car.
“Callan, you all right?” Baird asked, glancing worriedly in my dad’s direction.
“Fine. I’ll catch you later.” I jumped into my Defender before my mates could say another word. Sitting there for a second, eyes on my wing mirror where I could still see Gavin, I breathed in and out slowly, attempting to ease the compression on my chest.
Now and then, Gavin did this. Went around acting the proud father, telling everyone I was his son, making out like he was the one who helped me get to where I am. In reality, he did fuck all. He treated me like I was a burden, like I was a nuisance dropped in his lap when I was twelve. All while I was grieving my mum and stepdad.
Gavin Urquhart was a sleekit piece of shit.
And him hanging around meant only one thing: he wanted something from me.
I turned on the engine, glanced in my mirrors, and swung out of the space to join the traffic of players trying to leave the grounds. As I moved toward the security gate, I could sense my dad watching me. The right side of my face burned with awareness. My hands clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, and I didn’t breathe a full breath until Gavin Urquhart disappeared from my rearview.
Beth had a full schedule, so instead of leaving from the apartment building together, she asked me to meet her for dinner at a Thai restaurant in Stockbridge. Since it was less than a ten-minute walk from my flat, I strolled there. I took the time to shrug off the encounter with my dad. I didn’t want to walk into the restaurant a brooding bastard. Beth didn’t deserve that. And I also didn’t want to deal with any questions she might have as to the cause.
Although New Town wasn’t quite as busy as the rest of the city in August, the streets were crowded as I made my way there. The Fringe Festival always brought a buzz to Edinburgh that was hard to explain. The atmosphere was electric, like being at an outdoor festival or a professional league football game. While I hadn’t had a chance to explore any of the events in the last few years, I quite liked the Fringe.
I did not like that it made vehicle and foot traffic so congested. It was probably why Beth chose Stockbridge. Princes Street, Old Town, and the university were usually the most crowded areas of the city during the Fringe.
The hostess greeted me as I walked into the small restaurant. With its exposed brick walls, low ceilings, and old Georgian windows, the place was moody but warm. Beth waved to me from a table by a window. As she stood to greet me, I tensed.
She wore a tight cropped black tank top that showed off her cleavage and a few inches of bare skin on her torso before her high-waisted wide-leg trousers covered the rest. A suit jacket that matched the trousers was thrown over the back of her chair.
Her blue eyes looked even more dramatic than usual because she’d penciled a wee black flick at the tips.
Why did she have to be so fucking gorgeous?
Her perfume wafted over me as she pressed up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against my cheek. “Hi, Captain.”