“How much is your hostel a night? Are you in a private room?”
“No, I’m in a dorm. It’s about thirty euros.”
“So, if you want to stay for two more months, you need a job. Unless you have someone back at home who would send you money?”
She lets out a dry snort. “Yeah right. My father? He hated this whole idea. He told me I’d be back with my tail between my legs sooner rather than later. All the money I have, I spent months working at a café, saving up.” She pauses, opening the bag of carrot sticks. “But I guess I didn’t save up enough. I don’t think I really thought any of this through.” She takes out a carrot stick and bites it cleanly in half, then looks at me with big blue pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell Marco.”
“Tell him what?”
“How much money I have.”
“Doesn’t he know?”
Pretty sure he knows.
“I just don’t want him to know what a failure I am.”
I give her a curious look. I’ve never seen her act this way. “You’re not a failure, Ruby. Not even a little.”
“Sure I am,” she says, munching on the rest of the carrot. “I came here thinking I’d be some hot shit sports journalist and the only thing I’ve managed to post to my blog is that interview with you and a recap of a few games.”
I laugh dryly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”
“It’s not you,” she says, reaching across the table and putting her hand on mine and giving it a squeeze. “You were wonderful.”
My hand burns from the feel of her soft, cool hand.
Fuck. Why is she doing this?
She takes her hand away, like nothing happened, and I have to remind myself like I’ve reminded myself over and over again, that this is just the way she is and she’s like this with everyone.
“Anyway,” she goes on, “I don’t want Marco to worry about me. He’s got his life so together, and I like that when I’m with him, I feel that way too. I don’t want him to take me off that pedestal he puts me on.”
“And what pedestal is that?”
“That I’m young and fun and free and a good fuck,” she says, eyes twinkling, and goddamn it, if her full red lips don’t look edible when she says the word fuck. “I make him feel good. I think I make him feel like he’s slumming it a bit too,” she adds with a laugh. “I mean, I know the girls he’s dated. He runs into them everywhere we go and they all look at him now like he’s crazy for being with me.”
“They’re jealous,” I tell her.
She laughs. “Why? I look like white trash next to them and their tans and supermodel bodies and fake hair.”
“They’re jealous because you’re real. And you’re beautiful. Just look at you.”
I try not to take those words back, but I hope she doesn’t make too much out of them. Who am I to tell my brother’s girlfriend these things?
“You think I’m beautiful?” she asks, hope in her voice.
Shit. Luciano. Use your head.
I nod. “Everyone does.”
“I’m not talking about everyone. I’m talking about you.”
I hold her gaze for a moment and something seems to change in the air, the energy around becoming louder, tighter.
I look down at the bag of carrot sticks and reach across, taking them from her.
“Why are you single?” she asks me just as I bite into one.
I take my time to finish chewing and lift one shoulder. “Don’t have time.”
“Would you ever find the time?”
I consider that, taking another bite. “Maybe for the right person. But my focus is elsewhere.”
“Tell me about it. Where is your focus?”
“The game,” I say, thinking it must be obvious. “My future.”
“You want to move on. I know you denied it when I asked in the interview, but you want to move on to another team.”
“I want to show the world what I’m capable of.”
“And what are you capable of?”
I lick my lips in thought. “I’m capable of being the best. This team…it will only hold me back. I want to be the captain, and then I want to be the captain of a team that will take us to the championships. That will let me be the person I’m meant to become.” I pause, offer her a sheepish smile. “I know that sounds arrogant.”
“It’s not arrogant if it’s true,” she says. “I know how you feel. My focus…it’s a little loose at the moment. I’m going to blame Marco.”
I laugh. “That’s okay. I blame him for a lot of things.”
“I didn’t want to get into a relationship. It just happened.”
My smile falters. “Then break up with him.”
The words just fall out of my mouth. I’m not usually this blunt, yet I can’t help it with her.
She presses her lips together and gives her head a shake. “Nah. I didn’t want to be in a relationship, but I’m in one now and I’m going to ride it out to the end and see where it goes. I know it’s not going to go far since I have to leave here in two months. Our relationship has an expiry date and Marco knows that. Hell, I think it’s why he’s with me, to be honest. Three months and done. No strings attached. Works great for the both of us.”
“Then where will you go?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere out of the European Union. Then I’ll come back in and do it all over again. This time in Barcelona. You should play for Barcelona.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s earnest. But then again, when isn’t she?
“We’ll see.”
“I mean it. You belong on a team like that. No offense to Sporting. And that way I’ll get to see you.”
“And Marco,” I add, feeling heat in my veins.
She swallows. “Of course.” Her head tilts to the side. “I like you, you know.”
My brows shoot up. I need to take this the right way.
“Okay…”
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say. You’re supposed to tell
