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CARINA

If Scarlett and Asher’s wedding ceremony was intimate, their reception later that autumn was the exact opposite. It took place at the Angry Boar, and they’d invited basically everyone they knew (and liked). So on a brisk Friday night in October, a who’s who of star athletes, A-list celebrities, and friends and family descended upon the pub, which had been completely transformed for the occasion. Cascades of flowers, twinkling lights, garlands of greenery woven around every beam—it was hardly recognizable.

Although the venue choice had sent the press and public’s tongues wagging—why would they choose a dinky pub when they could afford the biggest, grandest halls in the entire city?—it made sense. The Angry Boar was basically Blackcastle’s second home, the place where Asher and Scarlett had met and the backdrop for so many of their memories. It wouldn’t have felt right celebrating anywhere else.

“I can’t believe this place has two more floors!” I exclaimed to Mac, the pub owner. He hovered on the edge of the party, looking grumpy and uncomfortable in his tuxedo. “Why do you never open them to the public?”

The Angry Boar was way bigger than I originally thought. With the surprise upper floors open and the streets around it blocked off, it was enough to accommodate Asher and Scarlett’s entire guest list. The Donovans had also paid the affected businesses and residents a ridiculous amount of money to compensate for the inconvenience and loss of business on a Friday night, so everyone had walked away happy—except, maybe, for the owner himself, who was running his hand over the freshly shined bar like he was appalled by its sparkling cleanliness. Instead of pints and chips, it was brimming with delicate glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

“Why would I?” Mac grumbled. “So I can have more idiots coming here after every match, acting stupid and trying to sneak photos of the players?”

Hmm. I guess his no cameras, no autographs, no fights policy would be harder to enforce with more people.

And yet, he’d agreed to let Asher and Scarlett have their big, fancy reception here. He’d never admit it, but he had a soft spot for the Blackcastle players, no matter how much he frowned and complained.

“Valid,” I said. “On another note, have you thought about hiring a specialized bartender for fruity cocktails?”

The look he gave me could’ve withered the hundred thousand dollars’ worth of floral arrangements festooning the pub. I beat a hasty retreat before he threw one of the champagne glasses at me.

“Don’t tell me Mac banned you from the pub.” Amusement threaded through Noah’s voice.

I spun, my heart ricocheting when I saw him walking toward me in a perfect black suit. He’d removed his tie and jacket and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and his hair was rumpled from the Blackcastle boys’ shenanigans. They’d dragged Asher away for “guy time” earlier, and they’d been MIA for the past forty minutes.

“Not banned, but I think I shouldn’t order any more piña coladas here for a while.” I cocked an eyebrow at Noah’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes. It was my first time seeing him visibly tipsy. It was adorable. “Had fun with the boys?”

He wouldn’t tell me what they’d done for Asher’s bachelor party because Vincent had sworn everyone to absolute secrecy, but he’d come back with some weird zebra-related hang-ups. Hopefully, their antics tonight had been less traumatizing.

“Not the word I’d use,” Noah said dryly. “Adil convinced Wilma Pebbles to write a customized short story about Asher and Scarlett. He made us sit there and listen to him read it while we drank every time the word ‘throbbed’ came up.” Judging by his level of inebriation, it’d come up a lot.

“He had her write dino erotica about them?”

“Not erotica. It was fade to black—Yasmin convinced him a sexy story about his friends would be too weird, thank god. But yes, they were both dinosaurs in the story.”

“But doesn’t that—you know what, I’m not going to ask.” Trying to decipher the reasoning behind Adil’s eccentricities was a losing battle. “Glad to have you back though, Wilson.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Glad to be back, Vu.”

We smiled at each other like idiots, our bodies only a hair’s breadth apart. It was strange, how his mere presence made me forget we were surrounded by two hundred of the most famous people in the country. Teenage me would’ve been freaking out and trying to take pictures with everyone, but I wasn’t that girl anymore. The mistakes I’d made, the insecurity I’d felt about guys’ interest in me (or lack thereof)—I didn’t care about them anymore.

Noah was it, and I would relive every misread signal and unrequited crush if it meant I’d end up right here, right now with him.

Even my parents approved. I’d brought him with me to Liverpool last month to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival with my family, and he’d been a big hit, especially with my visiting aunts. Apparently, Noah was a superstar in Asia after starring in a big multinational ad campaign for a popular tea brand, and they’d spent the entire trip taking pictures with him and bragging about it in their Zalo message groups.

My parents had been more reticent—they hadn’t forgotten the media shitstorm earlier that year—but Noah eventually bonded with my father over steak recipes, of all things. He also won my mother over by basically being polite, praising her cooking, and helping her set the table and wash the dishes before and after every meal. By the time we left, I was convinced they liked him more as a son than me as a daughter.

I’d also come clean to my parents about getting fired from Lloyd’s earlier that year, quitting my job at RAB, and taking on a new role at Westhaven. They already knew about Lloyd’s given the nanny headlines about me earlier that year—they could put two and two together—but I wanted to talk to them about it in person.

My mum had wrinkled her nose at me having to clean and feed animals every day, but other than that, they’d seemed genuinely happy for me. They hadn’t even been that upset about me lying to them for months. I think they were just relieved I’d found a great boyfriend and a job I was excited about. Plus, business at my dad’s restaurant was booming thanks to the free publicity from the tabloids over the summer. That’d been the biggest upside of the whole mess.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I made a final decision about the Blackcastle renewal,” Noah said now. “I’m staying another four years. I’ll be thirty-five, and that’ll give me a chance to go out at the top of my game and play in another World Cup.” He gave me a crooked smile. “I can’t have my last World Cup appearance end on an injury.”

Noah had recently turned thirty-one. Thirty-five was still on the younger side for a keeper to retire, but it felt right for him.

I wound my arms around his neck, my chest cool with relief. He’d agonized over the decision for months, and I was glad he’d finally figured out what he wanted. “Four years it is. Guess I’d better keep your jersey for a while longer,” I teased. “I was going to chuck it in a donation bin.”

My breath stuttered when he slid his hand up and wrapped my hair around his fist. Noah lowered his mouth to my ear, his voice a rough murmur. “Remember what I said about provoking me, little bird?” The dark promise he whispered after sent a shiver of delicious anticipation down my spine. I was suddenly very much looking forward to the end of the night.

“Get a room!” Brooklyn shouted on her way past with Vincent, effectively cooling the moment.