36. Daphne

Chapter 36

Daphne

January 16

Cameron Hastings Back on the Field After Benching in Critical Overton Match

“Fuck yes!” I roar, leaping off the plush leather couch at Bea and Ivan’s home in the Champion’s Triangle. Getting here was quite the trek from my apartment. Cameron practically twisted my arm to borrow his car to ensure my safe journey. My chest feels like a shaken soda can about to burst as I watch Cameron block another goal. He’s on fire on his first day back.

“That’s it, Hastings!” Bea shouts, and the rest of the glamorous WAGs join our cheers. Our faces are canvases of purple and white stripes. These women are incredible—running businesses, parenting full-time, sometimes both. It’s inspiring and comforting to be around people who understand the quirks of my job.

Victoria, Ben’s wife, idly stirs her Lyndhurst Martini—a regular martini sprinkled with dried beet powder to give it a vibrant purple hue. She’s perched on a stool as one of her toddlers teeters at her feet. “That holiday rest did the whole team good. They’ve been untouchable for the past four matches.”

“Or perhaps it was the lack of rest.” Bea playfully nudges my ribs. Heat rises to my cheeks. “Wait, don’t sit there.” Like Cameron diving for the ball moments ago, Bea lunges and blocks Maya—one of the players’ kids—from sinking into the leather chaise. “Nobody sits there on game days, okay, sweetie? It’s bad luck.”

A chuckle bubbles up from me. No one beats football fans when it comes to superstitions.

“Give ’em hell, Tamu!” I whoop. Between the rain and his speed, our striker is a blur of motion, the enemy defense line nothing more than a temporary roadblock. The room collectively holds its breath, every gaze riveted to the screen.

Then, Tamu shoots…and he scores! Applause erupts through the living room like a sudden downpour. He just secured another win for Lyndhurst.

I never thought I’d be a sports girl, but I love being here, cheering on a man I’m head over heels for. That intense but ridiculously hot stare as he claps his gloved hands together, sweat trickling down his face and mud splattered across his uniform.

“Daphne,” Bea says, sliding into the seat beside me. “I’m so excited for your retreat, my love. Our financial manager wrote a very generous check to support The Kindness Coalition.”

“I appreciate you so much. They’ve been doing amazing work.” My heart warms at our community rallying behind my cause. “I was thrilled to highlight them in the Stone Times piece on cyberbullying.”

In the recent article, I emphasized how cyberbullying leads to emotional distress, anxiety, and depression.

“I adored that article!” Amelia, a successful news anchor married to one of the team’s starting midfielders, says next to us. “Before Daniel transferred to Lyndhurst, I was under constant public scrutiny. From my fashion choices to my career, I was pigeonholed as just a footballer’s wife instead of a businesswoman.”

“Remember what happened to Rebekah after the Wagatha Christie scandal?” Victoria chimes in.

They all shudder at the memory. Tabloid wounds run deep, but I think about Bea’s words from when we first met. At least we have each other. Spreading empathy, fostering positivity, and supporting each other is crucial. We all play a role in creating a kinder internet, and I’m empowered to carry that message forward.

“When Nero and I holidayed in Aruba and I dared to wear a bikini four months after giving birth, the hounds made it seem like I was cheating on my husband. When we returned, all my collaboration offers were to promote weight loss gummies or bedroom toys.” Emily, a budding fashion influencer and Nero’s childhood sweetheart, laughs.

“Did you accept any of them?” Bea asks, eyebrow raised, glass midair.

“Only the bedroom toys. I like my momma curves as they are, but who doesn’t want to spice up the bedroom? Nero loves our well-stocked bedside drawer.”

“Nero, huh?” Bea says cheekily, setting off a chain reaction of giggles.

“A French boutique sent us some new beads,” Emily whispers conspiratorially. “Let’s just say he’s in for a treat after tonight’s win.”

“I’m going to need more details on that. Anything with the word beads in it sounds like something I would enjoy,” I chuckle.

“What you need is the guide they sent me on tantric massages.” Emily winks. “I’ll send it over to you right now.”

“Yes, please!” The sex with Cameron has been amazing, but adding a few Yes Year activities—sex edition—seems fun. I blush, remembering how Cameron used the rose-shaped vibrator from my nightstand last week. With my anxiety meds, it’s easier for me to get there with a little extra help.

My phone pings, like he knew I was thinking of him.

Goose

Are you still at Bea’s?

Daphne

Yes!

Goose

See you soon. x

It feels like time is flying by since we returned from California three weeks ago. Cameron has joined us for the last two weeks of The Great British Bake Off , even taking bets with the guys on who will win this season, We’ve been ice skating and have gone to winter pop-up markets. He’s spent the night every night except for his away games.

Bit by bit, I’ve been sneaking cozy touches into his place: potholders in the kitchen and a throw blanket on his lone chair. Even his bed is gradually turning into a nest of my knitted creations.

But my real pièce de résistance? The tiny designs I’ve been quietly embroidering into his things. It started with the small heart in his leather jacket sleeve and has grown to secret flowers in his training shorts, a sheep on his socks, and a redwood tree inside his pillowcase. The jersey he has on today even has a hidden duck and goose stitched into the hem.

A small game I’m playing, waiting to see how long it’ll take for him to notice.

Now he’s with the team and on his way to the Matoses’ house. It’s our first big, public activity as two people who are dating. It’s been so nice being open about our relationship in front of the people close to us. It feels like we’re on the right track to build something extraordinary together outside of this bubble.

Another chime comes from my phone—this time an email. I tap into it and nearly pass out reading the subject.

[email protected], [email protected]

Collaboration Opportunity: Knitting X Lust Island Initiative

Hi Daphne,

I’m Georgia Woods, fresh off my Lust Island win. First off, I’m obsessed with your page and your Juni Sweater pattern—seriously, I can’t stop knitting it! Your recent article about cyberbullying in the Stone Times tugged at my heartstrings. Most of the contestants coming off Lust Island received tons of hate online, and as the show goes on, it’s becoming a bigger and bigger issue.

So next season, I’m teaming up with Lust Island’s PR crew to create a handcrafted wardrobe for the contestants to wear on the show and your article inspired me to raise awareness about the impact of cyberbullying. We’ll also be helping contestants build resilience for life after the villa.

I think you’d be perfect for this collaboration with me. I see that you have a knitting retreat coming up in March. I’d love to come and meet you in person.

I’m super excited about the possibility of working together.

Looking forward to hearing from you!

Live, laugh, lust,

Georgia

Holy freakin’ bananas!

Yes.

Yes.

Yes!

A million times yes.

This is the kind of stuff a Yes Year is made of. I nearly screech in my seat, my eyes going blurry with excitement as I hammer out a response.

[email protected]

RE: Collaboration Opportunity: Knitting X Lust Island Initiative

Georgia,

I absolutely loved you on Lust Island! I am in. Send over any and all details, my knitting needles are at your service. Attached is a ticket to my event. I’d love to do an intro call to chat about your initial ideas—feel free to send over your availability.

Knit Regards,

Daphne Quinn

@wooly.duck

My heart pounds in my chest. The reply comes in instantly. Eek!

[email protected], [email protected]

RE: RE: Collaboration Opportunity: Knitting X Lust Island Initiative

Daphne and Georgia, we’re thrilled! Use this link to schedule a kickoff call, and let’s get started.

Got a text,

Lust Island PR Team

I pick the earliest slot available, two weeks from now, and read the message one more time, searing the feeling into my mind.

The Georgia Woods, the Lust Island star with the brightest pink hair and the sweetest heart, wants to collaborate with me.

Breathe, Daphne. Just breathe. You’re freaking out.

When I finally glance up, the entire team files into Bea’s house one by one, and Cameron appears behind them. He’s got this beautiful, wide, and absolutely unusual smile stretching across his face. It’s like he’s a supernova.

Around his neck is the purple scarf I knitted for Femi’s auction. I can’t believe he brought it with him without telling me. My heart tightens with emotion. He played it cool, even after I questioned him about it at the arcade.

I can’t wait to tell him my news. But as I jump up, my stomach twists. I don’t want to make today about me. I quickly shoot a text to my sister and moms about the news, so at least I have someone to celebrate with for now.

I sidle up to him. “Hey, big man, that save—” Cameron sweeps me right into his chest and plants a knee-wobbling kiss on me.

Whoops and whistles erupt from the room. When we finally break apart, my lungs are desperately fighting to catch a breath. Oh wow. He really does take my breath away—literally and figuratively.

I glance around, cheeks blazing, and realize everyone is staring at us with goofy grins plastered on their faces.

“Hi,” he whispers against my lips, completely ignoring our very entertained audience.

“Hi. You were amazing out there.”

“I loved knowing that you were watching. Gave me an extra kick in my ass to push harder,” he says, giving me an illegal, panty-dropping wink that makes me melt like butter on a warm skillet. “How was your day, sweet girl?”

“Had a blast celebrating the Lions’ win and, uh—” Who am I kidding, I can never keep a secret. “And I was going to wait to tell you because I don’t want to overshadow your win today, but I just got an offer for an amazing collab deal, to design clothes for a show and team up with them on anti-bullying initiatives,” I say, trying to sound casual. “No big deal.”

“What?” His eyes light up, and he rubs his thumb across my cheek.

“It’s nothing. I really don’t want to distract from your win today.”

“Please,” Cameron says in that delicious stern voice of his. “I love celebrating you as much as I love winning.”

I gulp. “I’m lucky to have you, Goose.”

“It’s me who’s lucky. Now, tell me more.”

I hesitate. “It’s for Lust Island .” I scan his face. His jaw tenses, but he waits for me to continue. “Apparently, Georgia Woods, who knits and crochets too, read my article in the Stone Times and wants to collaborate for next season.”

“That’s fucking great, Daphne,” he says, looking genuinely thrilled.

“Really? I was nervous to tell you because I know you don’t like the show.”

“It’s not like you’re ditching me to go on Lust Island .” He shrugs, but there’s a strange, fleeting emotion on his face—a ghostly shadow I haven’t seen in months. It comes and goes so quickly, I’m sure I imagined it. He must be exhausted after giving it his all out there.

“I could never be a bombshell.”

“Because you’d be too good for every guy there.” He kisses the top of my head. “We have to celebrate.”

His hand tightens on my waist, and I know if we weren’t in a room full of people, he’d be ripping this little knitted number right off me and we’d be celebrating both of our big wins today.

I trace a line over his leather jacket and rise on my toes to whisper in his ear. “Maybe that can wait until tonight.” I giggle, my voice light and teasing.

“I love where your head’s at.” He gives my butt a playful pat. “But I was thinking of something bigger. A trip.”

“A trip?” I squeal, my excitement barely contained.

“I have a weekend off in three weeks, my last one until May. How do you feel about a quick getaway to see the northern lights?”

I practically bounce into the air, feeling a giddy thrill bubbling up inside me. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Finland is only a three-hour flight away,” he says nonchalantly, as if a spontaneous trip to see the northern lights is the most natural thing in the world.

“No way!” My mind races with excitement. “Oh my god, there’s a yarn store in Helsinki that I absolutely love. I’ve ordered wool from them a bunch of times. I’d love to visit! It’d be amazing to see it in person. And I could test out some samples for that collaboration with Georgia. Oh, and I heard there’s an overnight train—imagine that!”

He smiles warmly. “Anything you want, my sweet girl.”

Just then, Sven and Omar crash onto the scene like a pack of overexcited golden retrievers, clapping Cameron on the back and showering him with congratulations for today’s save. “Man of the match!” they shout, raising their drinks high in a toast.

“Couldn’t have done it without you all,” he says, pulling me into their hug and flashing that proud smile that makes me weak in the knees.

Our cozy cuddle session disintegrates as the guys untangle themselves. But they don’t leave, clearly baffled by this rare, mushy side of Cameron that I’ve come to adore. They stare at him like he’s some sort of interactive art piece, waiting for him to make the next move.

“What’s this about a trip?” Omar nudges his arm.

I glance at Cameron, and he nods. “Cameron’s taking me to Finland to see the northern lights.”

Sven chimes in, “You have to stay at Octola.”

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Cameron grumbles with an amused smile.

I have no idea where or what Octola is, but knowing these guys’ knack for the finer things in life, it’s bound to be something extraordinary.

Can this day get any better?

My heart feels like it’ll pop open. “Wait, you already booked it? What if I didn’t say yes?”

“Worth the risk.”

I chuckle. “Since when did you become a high-stakes gambler?”

“I only bet when I know the odds are in my favor,” he retorts with a playful wink, running his hand along my back, stopping at the base of my spine. “And trust me, I always come out on top where you’re concerned.” Every hair on my body stands at attention.

“Oh really?” I arch an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto my lips. “And what if I had other plans?”

He leans in, his breath tickling my ear. “Then I’d just have to convince you otherwise.”

“All right, cocky.” I giggle. “I guess Finland it is.”

Sven claps Cameron on the back, shattering our suddenly hundred-degree flirting session in front of his teammates. “Man, you two are gonna have an awesome time. Just promise to bring me back some Dumles. They’re these little chocolate candies you’ll absolutely love.”

“You had me sold at chocolate,” I say, grinning. “We’ll even throw in a few selfies with the northern lights for good measure.”

Cameron smirks and lowers his voice to another spine-tingling octave. “And maybe a few other surprises, too.”

“Oh, now you’re really talking. I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. “It’s going to be unforgettable.”

Omar erupts into a hearty laugh. “Look at Mr. Romance over here! Who knew our Hastings had it in him?”

Cameron just rolls his eyes. “Go ahead, laugh.”

“Such a sap,” Sven says. “Just make sure you don’t get a soggy bottom on your trip. We wouldn’t want to disappoint Paul Hollywood.”

“Trust me, Cameron’s going to get all the star bakes while you’re all stuck here with soggy bottoms and underbaked biscuits.”

“Will I?”

It’s adorable that he’s finally getting the references now that he’s been joining us for The Great British Bake Off . He’s terrible at guessing the winners of the challenges—he always cheers for the underdog—but it’s endearing that he’s trying.

The room continues to hum with celebration, the noise level climbing to rock concert decibels as more teammates filter into the house.

Ivan and Bea saunter over to us, drinks in hand, and I feel a surge of admiration and a smidgen of hope. The more I get to know them, the more I yearn for Cameron and me to have something like what they have. Their love is pure, even if it’s tangled up in football superstitions and the occasional tabloid headline. They’ve been together for what feels like eons, and they still look at each other like they’re discovering new stars in the sky. It’s the same way my moms look at each other and the way Cameron’s parents did. I want that. I really, really do.

“Enjoy celebrating tonight.” Ivan flashes me a grin. “He’s earned it after today’s performance.”

If Cameron Hastings could blush, I swear this would be the perfect moment for him to turn a rosy shade of pink.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” I reply with a wink so exaggerated it could rival the cheesiest slice of cheddar. “We’ll be celebrating a lot!”

“Surely whatever you have planned will be bead-yond amazing,” Bea adds, batting her lashes in a mock-serious way.

I snort, which makes Cameron glance between us, utterly perplexed.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing!” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible. I’m not sure if either of us is ready for bead play…yet.

We join his teammates, who are now cozily gathered in a circle on Bea’s couch.

We plop down among them, and the team dives into the game’s nitty-gritty. Each play and strategy is recounted with such enthusiasm, it’s as if they’re reliving it all over again. For the first time in what feels like forever, Cameron looks completely at ease. The room is alive with energy. Kids dart around, jokes zip through the air, and laughter bubbles up like a shaken soda.

Cameron wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him on the couch. His warm body feels like a home for mine as we laugh together.

“I like seeing you this happy,” he whispers, his eyes twinkling with that heart-melting sweetness.

“Happiness looks good on you too.”

“It’s easy when you’re around.”

I lean in, feeling like the luckiest girl ever. Surrounded by my new friends, this night feels like a perfect slice of happiness, one I’m certain will last forever.