Page 69 of The Keeper

“Yes, but by we, I mean the three of us.” She gestured to me, herself, and Brooklyn, who was scarfing down a bowl of chips like her life depended on it. She was on her period, and she’d been binge-eating all day. “Asher’s treating us to a two-week, all-expenses-paid trip to South Africa. It’s his pre-wedding gift to me.”

Brooklyn stopped mid-chew while I gaped at Scarlett. “What? Are you joking?”

“Nope.” Scarlett dropped into the seat across from mine. “I mentioned our girls’ trip convo the other day. He offered to set it up for us, VIP access and all. He just got the confirmations for everything.” She gestured to where Asher was arguing with Vincent about something. I thought I heard the word zebras, but I couldn’t be sure.

“I can’t accept that,” I said. “That’s way too much.”

Scarlett and Brooklyn both raised their eyebrows in disbelief.

My face broke out into a grin. “I’m kidding. I can totally accept that! Eeek!” I threw my arms around Scarlett. Normally, I’d feel bad about accepting such a lavish gift, but Asher was one of the highest-paid athletes in the world. The cost of the trip was probably a rounding error for him. “We’re going to the World Cup! Tell Asher thank you. No, I’ll tell him myself. But oh my god, I have to plan. There’s so much to do. What am I going to wear—we have to go shopping—I need to check my passport⁠—”

“Calm down.” Brooklyn laughed and finished eating her chip. “I already created a checklist for all things World Cup-related. I’ll email it to you.”

“Thank you.” I released Scarlett and hugged Brooklyn instead. “I knew I could count on your organizational skills.”

I’d heard about the World Cup so much this year that it’d felt like I was going, but I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to see the matches in person until Scarlett dropped the news. Although I wasn’t a huge fan of the sport itself, I loved the vibes and camaraderie. Mostly, I was excited to spend more time with my friends. We were long overdue for a proper girls’ trip.

“I’m happy to be the chief organizer.” Brooklyn’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait. This is going to be so freaking fun. The only question is, which country are we rooting for to win?”

We looked at each other. The obvious choice for me was England since that was my home country. That was Asher’s team as well. But if England got eliminated, then I supposed I could support France for Vincent (though that’d feel like a betrayal). As for the US…

Blood rose to my neck and chest. I was facing away from Noah, but his presence was a tangible weight at my back.

Not that I had to support the US team for him. We weren’t dating. We barely even talked to each other when our friends were around. Choosing national team allegiances for my employer (he was just my employer) would be silly.

Okay, fine, we were friends too, but still.

My mind strayed to our brief interaction when I’d first arrived. Not even an interaction—a moment of acknowledgment. Come and gone as quickly as it’d begun. Yet the heat of his stare was seared into my skin, and my nerves hummed from the unspoken words between us. I couldn’t see him, but I was hyperaware of his mere existence in this shared space.

The back of my neck tingled, and I sucked down my Malibu Bay Breeze to fortify myself. I immediately winced. It was worse than the pub’s piña colada and Mai Tai, but it did the trick. The resulting head rush pushed Noah to the back of my mind, where he belonged.

“England for me,” Scarlett said, bringing me back to the topic at hand. “Sorry.”

“Same.” I gave Brooklyn a sympathetic look. “You’re the one who needs to choose.”

She was an American living in the UK and dating a French player. She had a lot of split loyalties.

“Ugh. I hate choosing.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Of course I’m supporting Vincent. But France, England, and the US are in different groups, so technically I don’t have to choose until the knockout stage.”

All the qualifying countries were divided into initial groups of four. During the group stage, a team could lose a match and still advance to the knockout stage depending on the other match outcomes in their group. However, the knockout stage was make or break—if you lost, you were out. Since France, England, and the US were in different groups, we could safely root for all three unless two of them faced each other in one of the knockout rounds.

“Regardless of who wins or loses, it’s going to be an amazing trip,” I said. “Did you know there are wild penguins in South Africa?”

They weren’t Antarctic penguins, but they were close enough. And I didn’t have to visit a zoo to see them! I could view them in their natural habitat.

My mind buzzed with possibilities. But I couldn’t think about South Africa without thinking about the World Cup, and I couldn’t think about the World Cup without thinking of Noah.

Seeing him play. Cheering him on. Visiting the same foreign country as him at the same time. He’d be there for work, but there was something so romantic about⁠—

No. Stop it. Do not put Noah and romantic in the same sentence.

“Cece, Cece, Cece.” Samson’s playful drawl interrupted the alarming turn in my thoughts. “We meet again.”

He slipped into the seat next to mine, and I embraced the distraction with open arms (figuratively speaking).

“Nice performance today,” I said with a smile. “That was a great pass to Asher in the second half.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you. I always play better when I know a beautiful woman is watching.”