more than I want you. It’s a bit sad, actually. I mean, you are four years my senior. I would think you’d have more control than this.”
He growls and discreetly reaches over and pinches me on the side. I have to fight back a squeal just as my drink gets delivered to me.
The bartender points at Santino. “I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks please.”
My brows lift at his casual order of alcohol in front of me. Strangely, it makes me feel proud. Like he heard me say to him that I could handle him drinking around me, and he trusts my words. I appreciate that level of respect from a man. Growing up Scottish, overprotective men are an everyday occurrence. My granddad, my father, and especially my brother were all certain they knew what was best for me. It’s a wonderful thing to have men that care so deeply, but it can be infantilizing at times.
So, to see Santino respect my words and take them to heart makes me feel seen in a very meaningful way. I shake away the butterflies in my belly and ask, “Do I open this now?”
“No,” Santino barks, holding back a laugh that makes him look young and carefree. “You’ll have to nip into the loo to open it. And…you’ll definitely have to put it on in there. That’s nonnegotiable.”
My cheeks flame with heat. “What on—”
“Fancy seeing you here, Santino,” my brother’s voice cuts in gruffly from the other side of me.
Santino offers Mac a dazzling, unfazed smile. “Hiya, Mac. Nice to see you.”
Mac grunts his displeasure, and his gaze lowers to the drink in my hand. He gets a curious expression on his face before addressing Santino again. “Can I help you with something?”
“No, I’m good. Just having a nice chat with your sister.”
Mac growls and points at the bag in my hand. “What’s that you got there, Tilly?”
“It’s a jersey with your former number, and Logan scrawled on the back,” Santino answers with ease. “I was in the gift shop storage room the other day and found some of your old gear in boxes so I thought your sister might like it. I have another box for you and the family sitting by the door for you to grab on your way out tonight.”
Mac scowls at Santino. “You must be joking.”
Santino’s brows lift. “I’m not. There was even a baby piece in there. A onesie or something?”
“Shit,” Mac barks, clearly as stunned by this entire exchange as I am. “That was rather thoughtful of you.”
Santino shrugs. “Tilly just mentioned she hadn’t been to Tower Park before so I wasn’t sure if she had a kit. I should have known she’d have something to wear.”
He glances at the Bethnal Green pullover I’m wearing, and I sense an opening. “Yes, but my top doesn’t say Logan on the back, and I’d love to represent my retired brother.” I flash a toothy smile to both of them. “I’ll just pop into the loo and have a change.”
I slink away from my brother and Santino, my heart beating wildly in my chest from that very uncomfortable exchange. Once inside the safety of the suite loo, I open the bag up to find a very nice white jersey with green trim and big block letters on the back that say Logan. He wasn’t lying! Plus, it fits perfectly. As I smooth the hem over top of my wide-legged jeans and finger comb my loose hair in the mirror, my heart swells with pride. Not just because I’m wearing my brother’s number today but because this was an extremely thoughtful gift from Santino. I’m not sure I’ve ever received such a sweet gift from a man.
Knowing this gift can’t be all hearts and flowers, I glance into the bag again and dig beneath several layers of tissue paper before I find a small box and an envelope. I open it up to see a note from Santino:
You say you like a challenge…put these on and see how challenging this match gets when I have all the control.
Frowning, I open up the box, and my eyes widen when I see what’s inside.
It’s the knickers I stuffed into his suit pocket the other day, but there’s something attached to the centre strip of fabric.
“It can’t be,” I whisper as I look down at the wee black device shaped like a very slim keyboard mouse. On the back, I spot a charging port and a simple on/off switch.
He’s given me fucking