Page 116 of The Defender

“A little,” she admitted. “But everyone slips up eventually. Maybe he didn’t know you could trace a burner from internet usage. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Just enjoy being free for now.”

We reached my car. “Maybe.”

“The best part is, you don’t have to live with my dad anymore—unless you want to,” Brooklyn teased. “You guys must have bonded a lot during those early morning runs.”

“Sure, we bonded the way a captive bonds with their kidnapper.”

She laughed. My lips curved in response.

She was right. I should stop overthinking the situation and take the win. If Ethan turned out to be a vengeful monster who wouldn’t back off even with a injunction…well, I’d cross that bridge when we got there.

It was the holidays. We’d won our first post-break match, and I was with the girl of my dreams. I wasn’t going to put a damper on it by worrying about hypotheticals.

“My parents like you,” I said as I started the engine and pulled onto the road. “They’re usually in a snippy mood when they’re near each other, but they stopped arguing long enough to talk to you. It’s impressive.”

“I like them too. I think they’re hilarious.” Her voice softened. “But the divorce must’ve been hard on you and Scarlett.”

“The divorce itself was pretty civil, but the hardest part was moving to a new country.” I gave her a crooked smile. “On the bright side, I learned fluent French. Girls ate it up whenever I traveled abroad.”

“Ofcoursethat’s what you cared about.” Brooklyn rolled her eyes, but her face was filled with good humor. “Honestly, I love that your parents can be in the same room together. Mine can’t even stand hearing the other’s name.”

“Was their split that bad?”

“Oh, yeah. My mom hasn’t stepped foot in the UK in twenty years, and she actively hates football. But from what they’ve told me, they were never compatible as a couple. Their personalities were too different. But they were also young and beautiful, and…things happened. Then they had me, and they were tied together for life.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I don’t think my mom ever forgave me for that.”

I had a lot of choice words to say about her mother, but I kept them to myself—for now. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“Maybe.” Brooklyn stared out the window. The trace of sadness in her voice made me want to hop on a plane to California right that second. Fuck propriety. Anyone who treated Brooklyn as shittily as her mum treated her deserved a verbal lashing.

Since I couldn’t do that, I settled on the next-best option. “Would you rather head back to the party or go somewhere else?”

When we left, we gave everyone a shoddy excuse about helping Coach with a “work emergency.” That’d been almost two hours ago. The party was likely over. If it wasn’t, we could easily explain away our absence by saying we wanted “personal time.” No one would question us, given we were an official couple now.

“Where did you have in mind?” Brooklyn sounded intrigued.

I grinned. “It’s your last week at Blackcastle. I think you should say a proper goodbye.”

I made it a point to get to know everyone on Blackcastle’s staff, from management to the maintenance staff. They were all crucial to the success of the team, and I actually enjoyed talking to them. Most of them anyway. I remembered their birthdays, bought them Christmas gifts, and asked them about their children’s graduations and anniversaries. It was my way of appreciating them for the work they did.

As a result, I was beloved by the staff—and one of the perks of being beloved was my ability to ask for wild favors on short notice, like tonight.

“Where are you taking me?” Brooklyn sounded wary. “It smells like…dirt. And mildew.”

“You’ll find out soon.”

“We’re not in the back alley of the Angry Boar, are we? I know it’s the team’s favorite pub, but I can say goodbye to Blackcastle in other ways.”

“Patience, buttercup.” I laughed. “We’re almost there.”

I’d fashioned a blindfold out of her scarf and made her wear it before I drove us here. I’d expected her to figure out where we were going from my hints, but her brows furrowed with confusion as I guided her through the tunnel.

Nelson had pulled through for me, and the key weighed heavy in my pocket.

Two minutes later, we stopped in front of a metal door. I unlocked it, gently pushed Brooklyn through, and untied her blindfold. “Open your eyes.”

The cashmere material fell away. She blinked and look around, her jaw going slack.

Rows and rows of empty seats surrounded us, stretching up to the night sky. Massive stadium lights cast a soft glow over the pitch, and the air smelled like a mixture of fresh grass and cold winter.