Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Storm

My words were met with silence, but it wasn't a shocked one.

“Can you tell who it is?” Frost sat so far forward in his seat, he was practically breathing down the back of my neck.

I squinted at the rear view mirror. “Not really,” I said. “Some kind of small car, a red one. Not very subtle.” They cruised right behind us, matching our speed, headlights bobbing with each dip on the road.

“They could be going the same way we are,” Frost suggested.

Let's test that theory.

I slowed and took the corner a bit too fast. Then the next one straight after.

The red hatchback was still on our bumper.

“We've gone around in a circle and they're still there,” I said. “I'm going to pull into the restaurant car park. We'll see what they do.” If they were trying to cause problems, we'd deal with them. They might be overzealous fans who saw us and decided they needed selfies with us. Fans got weird sometimes.

“I think we should find somewhere quieter. Where no one else is around,” Chelsea said. “We don't know what they want.” She sounded nervous, but not scared.

I glanced at her reflection in the rear vision mirror. She was so fucking gorgeous it was a miracle I didn't crash into the car in front of me when they stopped at the red traffic light.

“We can guess.” I tapped on the brakes and brought the SUV to an abrupt stop.

Dallas grabbed onto the Jesus handle as the momentum threw him forward.

I ignored his grunt of annoyance and swivelled around in my seat to take a better look behind us.

The hatchback's headlights were too bright for me to make out anything more than a figure seated behind the steering wheel.

“Are you sure?” Chelsea was the only one not looking back over her shoulder.

I took in the expression on her face. “What is it?”

“It might be nothing,” she said. She started to shrug, but dropped her shoulders and closed her mouth over unsaid words.

“You don't think it's nothing,” I said.

What the hell did she think it was then? Someone sent to assassinate us? Or kidnap us and use us to create a race of superhumans? That sort of stuff only existed in books and movies. As far as I knew anyway.

“Don't tell us, you're really a spy,” Frost said. “Come to Dusk Bay to uncover some nefarious plot to take over the world.”

She snorted. “Hardly. But if I was, I wouldn't be able to tell you.”

“Not unless you recruited us to help you,” he said. “I'd be down for that.”

“She's not a spy,” I told him. I turned back around in my seat and drove through the green light.

A couple of minutes later, we pulled into the car park. I backed the SUV into an empty space and killed the engine.

The red car parked a few spots away, front end in first, and the driver climbed out. Long legs, blonde hair, camera in her hand, aimed at us.

What a fucking shock.

“Paparazzi,” Dallas sneered.

We were professional footballers. The public eye was something we were used to, especially when the season was about to start. The media would like nothing more than to dig up something salacious about us. And if they couldn't find it, they'd make it up.

Only last week, I was reading about the stunning revelation that I was an alien with three cocks and a couple of love children. Whoever wrote that, they had a future in fiction. That sort of shit made me laugh.

Being followed, not so much.

“Don't make eye contact,” I said. “Don't engage.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” the leech in human form said, her tone as sleek as her pencil skirt and blouse. “Storm Keller, Daniel Frost and Dallas Gregory. And…friend.” She peered at Chelsea.

“Get lost,” Dallas growled. He could get away with being unfriendly, but if he told her to fuck off, he could get in trouble with the team. Apparently swearing was a step too far.

I applauded his restraint. I was barely hanging on to my own.

“So much for not engaging,” Frost said under his breath. “I recognise her. Belinda Simmons. She works for one of those trashy magazines.”

“One person's trash is another person's informative entertainment,” Belinda said. “The public deserves to know what people like you get up to off the field. How about you pose for a couple of photos and I'll leave you alone?” She seemed more interested in Chelsea than the rest of us.

My blood went cold. Did she have a clue Chelsea used to work at Flirts? Something like that would make headlines in about ten seconds. I squinted at her. My gut feeling was she didn't know. She spotted us and decided to go digging.

“How about you go away?” Dallas said. “Let's go inside.” He stayed close to Chelsea, without touching her. Thank fuck he had that much sense. One photo of them together would raise eyebrows and suspicions.

I was already second-guessing coming here at all. I wanted to put Chelsea in lots of different positions, but this wasn't one of them.

Belinda laughed. “Don't be like that. This doesn't have to be difficult. You smile, I take photos. Those photos go online for all your fans to enjoy. It's really that simple.”

“It's an invasion of privacy,” Dallas said. “I don't give you permission to take my photo.” He stomped over to the restaurant door, opened it and gestured for us to step inside.

“Sweetie, you're in a public place,” Belinda said, all condescension and vinegar-laced honey. “How can I invade your privacy when you're not in private?”

“Probably by climbing on a ladder and peering over a fence,” Frost told her.

She pretended to look shocked. “I would never do something so tacky.”

I couldn't keep quiet any longer. “You followed us. Some people would call that tacky. Some might even suggest it's illegal.”

She laughed. “I happened to be driving on the same road as you. There's no law against that. You make it sound like I'm some kind of stalker.”

“That sounds accurate,” I said. “A stalker with a camera who makes a living by taking photos of famous people. People who happened to be eating dinner out tonight. What an exciting story.” I rolled my eyes.

“Three of you with a beautiful mystery woman,” Belinda said. “That could be a very exciting story.” She was practically salivating.

“It's sweet that you think I'm beautiful,” Chelsea said, “But I'm no one. Just a student lucky enough to get a ride here from these guys.”

In the corner of my eye, I caught Dallas twitching at her choice of words.

Don't think about riding Chelsea , I told myself. A boner would give the paparazzo something to talk about.

Belinda laughed again. “I'm sure you got a ride from them. Which one of them?” Her predatory gaze swivelled from one to the other of us, slightly frowning as she watched for any change in our expressions. Anything that might give us away.

It was Chelsea's turn to laugh. “You saw us get out of the SUV. Obviously I got a ride with all three of them.” She shot Belinda a dazzling smile and stepped through the open door into the restaurant.

I gave Belinda a last look and curled my lip before stalking away. Seeing the smile melt off her face was satisfying. Good, she could find someone else to harass. Maybe I should give her Atlas' address.

“I hate parasites like her,” I grumbled before a server led us to our table. I was so annoyed, I didn't even think to argue when Frost and Dallas sat on either side of Chelsea, leaving me to sit opposite. Dallas moved his chair a little closer, as though he couldn't bear to be too far away from her.

“She's just doing her job,” Chelsea said. “Feeding the public's need for dirt on guys like you.”

“The public should mind its own fucking business,” Dallas growled.

“Yeah, they should, but they won't,” I said. “Don't let it get to you. She'd like nothing more than to live rent free in your brain. People like her aren't worth it. Let's relax and enjoy ourselves, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me,” Frost said.

We had a table in the corner where no one would disturb us, or overhear. As long as we didn't shout, we'd be left alone.

I loved that about places like this. If Belinda followed us in and tried to take photos, the staff would kick her out. I'd seen several escorted to the door in the past. Henrietta's was so exclusive, someone like Belinda would have to wait a year for a table. She couldn't pretend she was another customer so she could sit there and watch.

“How did you get us a table here?” Frost asked Dallas. “Even if I tell them who I am, it takes weeks to get a table.”

“My sister owns the place,” Dallas said. “Makes it easier to pull strings.”

“Your sister is Henrietta?” Frost asked.

Dallas rolled his eyes. “Henrietta sold the place years ago. My sister Greta runs the place now. I have a small stake in it, so they can't refuse when I want to come here and eat.”

“Nice,” I said approvingly. “I had no idea you were so connected in Dusk Bay.”

Dallas shrugged. “It's one restaurant. It's not like I know the mayor, or whoever runs the place.”

Chelsea poured herself a glass of water from the jug in the centre of the table and took a big gulp. She started coughing and her face turned pink.

“You okay?” I asked, while Dallas patted her on her back. He left his hand there even after she stopped coughing.

“I'm fine.” She waved off my concern. “Just went down the wrong hole.”

“Nothing worse than putting things in the wrong hole,” I said with a grin.

“Some people would say there's no such thing as a wrong hole,” Frost remarked. He selected his meal from the tablet the server left at the table, before passing it to me.

“There is if you choke to death,” I said before choosing a steak and passing the tablet to Dallas.

“If you choke to death, you're doing it wrong,” Frost said.

I chuckled. “Ain't that the truth? Speaking of truth, let's play a game. Truth or dare. First question, who did you lose your virginity to?”

I raised my eyebrows at Frost. It was a silly game, but it always got the conversation flowing. Besides, I was curious about all of them and their backgrounds. If I was going to spend time with the other two guys, I wanted to dig deeper into who they were. And I wanted to get to know Chelsea better. What better way to do that?

“Truth,” Frost said. “I was tutored by a girl in high school. For some reason, they thought I needed to understand Shakespeare and poetry.” He grimaced.

“She was a real geek. She loved gaming and science fiction and all that stuff. She had a crush on me. I was desperate to get my dick wet. It was quick and messy, but it got the job done. Except she wasn't happy when I told her afterward that I didn't think about her that way.” He shrugged and his gaze swivelled to Dallas.

“Truth,” Dallas said with a grunt. “Some chick in high school. A group of us used to hang out. We went to a party one night. Started kissing and then we fucked. I barely remember it. She started going out with my friends after that. No hard feelings. It was just one of those things that happen.” He didn't look like it was a life changing event for him.

I remembered the parties back then. They probably weren't sober. I'd had more than one quick, drunken fuck at nights like that. Hell, some mornings I had a vague memory of fucking someone, but not who. Everyone else was too drunk to fill me in. Whatever, it was nothing I lost any sleep over.

“Your turn, Chels,” I said. “Truth or dare.”

All of us looked over to Chelsea. Her face turned slightly pink. “I—” She looked past my shoulder. “Oh look, garlic bread.”

A server placed the basket on the table, effectively ending the game. For now.