met," Lewis admitted, once the raucous song came to a close. "But I didn't know you were still ... seeing each other."
Given the jovial atmosphere, the electric happiness that the mood of the stadium gave me, I tried really, really hard not to let that bother me. I was twelve weeks pregnant with his child, and his brother knew nothing about me. Forced to pause our conversation because of a family of Shepperton fans passing in front of us, I took a moment to breathe out my disappointment in a few gulping breaths.
It was fine.
I'd kept Jude more than a little occupied the past few weeks, and if I was completely honest with myself, anytime his family came up, he changed the subject. He distracted me. And the last time I'd brought them up, I was the one who climbed onto his lap and rode him like a jockey rides a racehorse.
A grimace crossed my face before I could stop it.
I thought about what Atwood had told me, about my tendency to focus on the past to avoid an unknown future. I thought about how Jude had reacted to my lack of clarity of what I wanted to do with my degree once I'd finished it. And I thought about how easily he and I fell into the palpable chemistry between us to avoid the reality of our separate situations.
Hell, my reaction to my meeting with Atwood left me feeling so unsettled that I'd gotten my pregnant ass down on my knees in front of him. In fact, if he'd pushed the door open, I probably would've crossed that invisible barrier we had around having sex again. I would've willingly allowed him to sweep away all the icky feelings she'd planted with that one seed of a thought.
Lewis saw the look on my face, and I tried to erase it with a smile, but he held up his hands. "I'm sorry, that came out rude, didn't it?"
"No, it's fine, really. I've been with Jude a lot, and I've never seen him talk to you, so I should've guessed."
He smiled again, but this time, it held an edge of discomfort. Great. Excellent first impression.
I laid a hand on his arm. "Sometimes I forget not everyone is like my family. I have four sisters, and we talk constantly. Don't worry about it."
Lewis studied me again, and I felt a little bit like an animal in a zoo exhibit. And to your left, ladies and gentlemen, we have the exotic American female. The teams walked out of the tunnel, players holding hands with children of various ages, each wearing matching jerseys to the teams.
"Okay," I said to Lewis. "What's up with the little kids?"
He grinned. "They do it for a few reasons, but primarily, it's used to raise money. Parents can pay to have their kids walk out on the pitch with one of the players, but it also helps foster a sense of ... sportsmanship, I suppose. No one can rain down curses or throw cups at the opposing players when they walk out together with innocent British youth, eh?"
"Ahh. See, back home, we'd never take away our ability to be merciless with the away team. I think our heads would implode."
"How very American of you," he teased.
"I'm pretty sure your brother said the very same thing to me the night we met."
He took a slow drink from his cup, only glancing at me once before he seemed to come to a decision. "You're not like anyone I've ever seen Jude spend time with."
So many questions popped into my head.
About the kinds of women he was with in the past, about the number of women, and if anyone had crossed the impenetrable moat that seemed to surround their family. And like the secure, confident woman I was, I did not ask a single one of those questions.
I simply smiled. "Is that so?"
Lewis nodded, leaning closer so I could hear him while the team captains shook hands in the middle of the pitch. "Don't get me wrong, my brother hasn't dated anyone of consequence in years. And even when he did, back when he was first in the league, it was exactly the kind of woman he shouldn't have been with. They fawned over him, and it just ... it didn't help keep his feet on the ground. And Jude struggles as it is to do anything else with life beyond football, so people like that make it worse."
Groupies. Every sport had them.