THERE ARE CERTAIN PEOPLE THAT cross your path in life whom you will change your entire direction to follow. That was Poppy when I met her at seven years old, and that is Poppy this evening as she strides toward me on the night of my brother’s wedding.
She’s dressed in a short, bronze, sequin gown with long sleeves that reminds me of sparkling chocolate. My eyes drink in her curves beneath the fabric that looks like it’s been painted on. The wide neckline shows off her delicate collarbone, courtesy of her short blonde hair that’s swooped smoothly off to one side. A shimmering gold dust illuminates her skin, complimenting her thickly-lashed emerald eyes.
She’s complete and total elegance.
I blink and my mind flashes back to the day I met her in that muddy yellow dress out in the park. She was a mess but still so confident. The history we’ve shared together makes this moment even more special. What she meant to me in my past is just as important as what she means to me in my present. These past few days we’ve spent together since we danced by the food truck have reminded me how wonderful our friendship can be. How easy and effortless. But it’s her inner beauty I see through all the sparkles that makes me desperate to know what our future holds and how I can continue to be a part of her life…forever.
She looks me up and down, a soft smile tugging on the edges of her lips. “You look rather fetching.” Her tone light and jovial—a far contrast to the intense feelings soaring through me at this second.
I clear my throat and adjust my thin black tie while staring at her glossy lips. “You’re as pretty as always, Poppy.”
My words are small and childish, but they feel like everything I never said as a boy or as a man. She’s always been stunning. I just never allowed myself to really look.
Her smile falls as I step into her space. She looks up at me, still a few inches shorter, even in her wedge heels. Desperate to feel her, I reach out and cup her cheek. Her eyes close and I stroke my thumb along her soft, pale skin.
I caress her and she feels like mine. She feels like she fits. Like she should be with me, on my arm, going to this wedding by my side. Not with someone else. An urgency overcomes me as a crippling fear descends. What if she falls for this man? What if she kisses this man? What if she stops spending time with me because of this man? Can I really sit back and watch her leave tonight with someone else?
“Booker,” she whispers. Her voice is thick with emotion, but she isn’t opening her eyes. “What are you doing?”
The air feels heavy. The pressure of these feelings push my head down like an uphill ascent on a rollercoaster. Truthfully, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m touching her because I need to. I have to. It’s not a conscious choice. My mind knows that this is wrong. That touching her leads to other things. Things that don’t have a guarantee. Things that could make her leave me.
“I—” I’m interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.
Poppy’s eyes crack open and she turns her head, pulling her face out of my hand. “That’ll be Andrew.”
I blink rapidly as my hand drops and I step away from her. The silkiness of her cheek still tingles my palm. “Andrew from the gym?” I ask, my fists clenching at my sides.
She nods and turns, her wedges thumping as she walks over to the door. I’m paralysed. Glued to my spot on the floor. My head aches as I listen to her greet him. He says something stupid in his thick Scottish accent I can barely understand. She laughs that familiar husky laugh and then they fall silent.
I force myself to look toward the door. Poppy is gazing over her shoulder at me nervously. Her hand clenched tightly on the knob, as if she’s wisely shielding my view of the man on the other side. “Is your…erm…date coming here to meet you?”
I tug on my earlobe and reply, “I’m going to go pick her up.”
She nods. “I’ll see you at Tower Park then?”
I half smile and it hurts. The simple lift of the corner of my mouth pains me as I watch her wave and slip out the door without another look back.
“If Booker Harris doesnae fall for ye after tonight, I’m turning straight and dating ye myself, Poppet. Ye look pure, dead brilliant. A proper bonny lass.”
I smile politely as Andrew ushers me into his little yellow sports car. Glancing up before he closes the door, I say, “Can we maybe …not talk about Booker? Or my plan? Or my past? I’m feeling completely ridiculous about it all.”
Andrew frowns and nods politely, shutting me in the car and walking around to his door. He slides in and the space practically expands with the scent of his cologne. He puts his hand on my balled-up fist. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”
I smile into his big brown eyes. “I’d love that.” He winks and pulls out of the parking stall.
“So,” Andrew asks after we’ve been driving a few minutes. “Where we headed?”
“Tower Park…for a wedding.” He looks at me in silent question. “It’s Tanner Harris and Belle Ryan’s wedding. They’re getting married on the pitch. Sorry I didn’t tell you before. They were worried about the press finding out.”
“Bloody hell!” Andrew exclaims, whacking the wheel with his palm as he hoots with excitement. “This is going tae be fantastic! I’m no a Bethnal Green fan, but ye’d have tae be deed tae no ken who the Harris Brothers are. Tanner and Belle had that big scandal in the papers earlier this year. Caught bollock naked in a car or something. By the sounds of it, Tanner Harris has turned shit around and is no quite the wild boy he once wis!”
He giggles naughtily and I can’t help but giggle, too. Andrew’s enthusiasm is cute. “Maybe don’t mention that story tonight.”
Andrew nods dutifully. “Of course. So, who else will be there?”
“Well, Camden will be there with his fiancé, Indie, who is Belle’s best friend. Then their oldest brother, Gareth. I don’t believe he’s bringing a date, but I could be wrong. He’s always a mystery. Their sister, Vi, will be there with her fiancé, Hayden, and their baby, Rocky. And a nanny, I believe, because Vi says she intends to party tonight. Then of course their dad, Vaughn. Oh, and Belle’s older brother, Ronald, and his wife.”
“Brill. No Belle’s parents? Her dad’s a judge or something, right?”
I nod. “Yes, but he won’t be there. You’re actually taking his place.”
He lights up. “Does this mean I get tae walk her down the aisle?”
I shake my head and try to hide my laugh. God, Andrew is adorable. “Doubtful, Andrew. But fingers crossed for you.”
A few minutes later, we pull up to Tower Park and are directed into a special parking area inside a fenced-in lot. All is quiet as we make our way to the door that’s guarded by security. He checks our IDs and marks our names on a list and then directs us through a long, dimly lit hallway. The ceiling is low, so Andrew hunches a bit to avoid the fixtures. He reaches out for my hand when I nearly stumble on some cracked concrete. “Is now a bad time tae tell ye that I’ve got a fucking hard on?” he whispers in my ear as he helps me right myself.
My eyes widen. “Andrew!” I chastise.
“Big fucking football fan, Poppet.” His voice is trembling as we approach some lights shining around the corner. “I’m a Heart’s fan, but that’s no matter. This is the stuff all footy fan dreams are made of.”
I can’t help but laugh. He looks like a kid in a candy store. “Well, try to tuck it into your waistband if you can.”
He nods seriously. “Good thinking.”
We turn the corner and the pitch is illuminated in bright stadium lights. A small number of white wooden chairs sit on a platform in front of a net that’s covered in a sheet of white lights. From a distance, I see Vaughn and Gareth standing in their slim black suits, identical to Booker’s. They appear to be talking to a female preacher. Beside them is a man and woman with acoustic guitars in hand, plugging into amps and adjusting their stools and microphones. Vi and Hayden are in the chairs, passing Rocky back and forth as they try to straighten the white, puffy dress she’s kitted out in. Indie’s red hair blows in the wind from beside them.
She sees me approach and scurries over to us in her floor-length silver gown. “Poppy, you look beautiful!” she beams and reaches her hand out to Andrew. “Hi, I’m Indie.”
“Indie, this is Andrew,” I say as they shake hands.
“I’ve got a wee hard on!” he blurts and then his face falls, his neck and cheeks flaming red as Indie covers her laughing mouth. “I’m sorry, I didnae mean tae say that. I just mean I’m chuffed tae be here. Walking on this pitch is the most exciting thing that’s happened tae me all year.”
“No worries. It’s pretty impressive. And we won’t judge if you develop tumescence.” She glances down at his package.
“If that means a Chubby Charlie, then cheers.” He snorts out an awkward laugh and Indie and I can’t help but join in. Andrew is a bit of a wanker, but a sweet wanker.
Indie points to the sideline. “There’s a small bar over there with a few cocktail tables if you want to grab a drink before the ceremony begins.”
Andrew looks at me.
“White wine?” I ask.
“I can handle that. I hope they have champagne!” He squeals and heads over.
“So, how’s it going?” Indie asks, walking me toward the cluster of white chairs.
I roll my eyes. “Andrew’s great. Gay as the day is long, but Booker has no idea, so he’ll do for tonight.” I exhale. “As for everything else, I have no bloody clue. I’m more confused now than ever.”
Her face falls. “But why? Belle’s plans always work.”
I shrug. “At this point, I’m simply trying not to get my hopes up. He’s acting different around me. For some reason, I feel a bit like he’s trying to say goodbye or something.” Indie’s face looks sad, but I wave her off. “How’s Belle? Is she freaking out? Trying to pull a runner?”
Indie laughs. “Her and Tanner are probably shagging in the bloody changing room as we speak.”
“They’ve seen each other before the wedding?”
“They both refused to go in the visitor’s locker room. They said it’d be worse luck than seeing each other before the wedding.” Indie throws her hands up in the air. “And you know Belle’s dress is red, right?”
I nod and smile. “She mentioned it.”
“Nontraditional to the core.” Indie beams. “I’m glad you’re here. I hope you can still have fun with Andrew. We’re doing a limo cruise around London after the ceremony. Then we’re eating dinner at that gorgeous nightclub Belle mentioned.”
I smile. “Can’t wait.”
The musicians begin waving Indie over, so she excuses herself to go see what they need. Just as I turn around to look for Andrew, my eyes collide with something that makes my heart hop up into my throat.
Booker Harris is strolling down the pitch looking fucking sexy as sin in his black suit, dimples, and broad keepery strides…
…with none other than Sidney Carmichael on his arm.
“I’m so glad I was able to catch an early flight back. It’s not every day you get to see a wedding on a football field!” Sidney’s voice seems an octave too high as we walk through the tunnel toward the pitch. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve gotten so used to Poppy’s deeper voice that now Sidney’s seems too high in comparison.
“Well I guess it’s good you saved me because I never did find a real date.” I force out a laugh and adjust the cufflink on my left wrist. I was fully prepared to come alone when Sidney called me back a few days ago saying she changed her flight to come home early. I couldn’t exactly take back my invitation, so here we are. Arm in arm. Painfully-forced grin to over-eager, toothy smile.
Sidney huffs. “Last I checked, I’m as real of a date as they get. Flesh and blood,” she says with a flick of her tongue. “I can show you more flesh if you’d like.”
She shimmies into me and I pull back. “Sorry, Sidney. You know what I mean.” I look away, my jaw tense. If Sidney shows any more flesh, we’re going to be seeing nipples. Her jubblies are on full display in her little black dress this evening. I can already hear the crass remarks Tanner will be making. That is if he looks away from his bride long enough to even notice.
We round the corner and I squint against the bright stadium lights. I do a cursory glance of the pitch and see Poppy staring right at us. Her face looks as if she’s seen a ghost. I want to hurry over to see what’s got her looking so upset, but Sidney’s latched onto me as her stiletto heels sink into the pitch.
Sacrilege. At least Poppy had the sense to wear appropriate footwear.
Poppy scampers over to meet Andrew, who’s walking toward her. She snatches a drink out of his hand and downs it in one gulp. He frowns and then looks around, his eyes finding me.
Then, he peacocks.
Hard.
His posture stiffens and he gives me a look like he could fuck me up if he wanted to. And I’m not one hundred percent sure he couldn’t. I’ve got him in height, but he certainly has me in muscle mass. However, he doesn’t realise that I’m walking with six years’ worth of fucked-up best friend angst on my shoulders. I’m pretty sure I’d welcome a release on his jaw.
“Is that?” Sidney puts her hand up to shield her eyes from the lights. “Is that Poppy McAdams over there? With the short hair? It looks like her, but I haven’t seen her since school.”
“It’s her.” My tone is rueful as I realise I haven’t mentioned to Sidney that I have a flatmate, or even a new flat.
All of the sudden, Poppy grabs Andrew’s arm and hauls him in the opposite direction of us, clearly trying to avoid saying hello. My eyes narrow as I watch them leave, looking perfectly at ease with each other.
With a quizzical brow, I usher Sidney over to say hello to Vi and Hayden. My face lights up when Rocky reaches for me. Needing the comfort of her, I scoop her up out of Hayden’s arms and hold her to my chest. She’s all puffy in a white tulle dress, and a glittery headband slices through her blonde wisps of hair. She instantly tries to pull my tie into her mouth. Sidney directs a pinched smile toward Rocky that has me turning away from her to sit down.
I’m half listening to the conversation Sidney is having with Vi and Hayden, more curious where Poppy’s buggered off to with Andrew.
My focus is diverted when Gareth claps me on the shoulder and drops down on the chair beside me. “Hiya, Book.” He stretches out his long legs as he gets comfortable and pins me with a curious look.
“Hiya,” I mumble, looking past him.
He reaches out and gives his finger to Rocky, who immediately pulls it into her mouth. “Who you looking for?” he asks me.
My eyes narrow. “Poppy. I just…She doesn’t know her date very well. I want to be sure we keep an eye on her.”
“Suuure,” Gareth drawls. “Nice to see Sidney could make it after all.”
I shrug, glancing over at her. She’s moved on to chat with the musicians. “She called me after changing her flight. It was too late to stop her. How’s Tanner?”
“Cool as a cucumber. I just checked on him.”
I shake my head and shift Rocky in my arms. “I can’t believe Cam and Tan are actually getting married. It’s unbelievable all the changes happening to our family.”
Gareth retrieves his finger from Rocky’s clutch and leans back in his chair. “I know. I thought for sure you’d be the first one of us to get hitched.”
This makes me frown. “Me? Why would you think that?”
He shrugs like he didn’t just drop a ridiculous comment on me. “You seem the most emotionally stable out of all of us.”
This makes me laugh. I don’t feel emotionally stable. I feel like a fucking head case right now as I twitch all over looking for Poppy. I’ve never been more confused in all my life. Recently, something has shifted inside of me when I look at Poppy. Something that’s making this whole bringing separate dates situation even harder than I expected. I’m having very un-best-friend-like feelings that I’m trying to work my way through.
“Vi wouldn’t call me emotionally stable,” I mumble through clenched teeth as I position Rocky on my shoulder. “She thinks I’m damaged.”
Gareth exhales and replies in a weird saccharinely sweet voice as he addresses my comment to Rocky. “That’s because you’re lying to yourself and we can all bloody see it.”
Rocky giggles from his attention, but I’m not amused. “I’m so tired of everyone saying that. I don’t know what you guys expect from me.”
Gareth cuts his severe hazel eyes on me. Where Tanner, Camden, and Vi took after our mum with blonde hair and blue eyes, Gareth and I got our dad’s features, so looking at him is a lot like looking at Dad.
His jaw is tight as he speaks. “Booker, as a keeper, your instincts are spot-on. Your eyes are laser sharp, so you see every player on the pitch at all times. And you protect your net with everything you have, like it holds your most prized possessions. That’s why you’re so good. Being a keeper is who you bloody well are.” His face softens. “But you are blind if you think Poppy hasn’t made it into your net.”
I exhale heavily. Just then, Vi breezes over, interrupting our tense discussion. “I need Rocky for a quick pic!” She grabs her from my hands and gives us a strange look. “You boys all right?”
We both nod and then she dashes away without a care in the world as she goes to join Hayden for a photograph by the net. I watch the happy family for a minute, wishing like hell I could switch places with them.
Gareth grips my arm and adds, “Fix this or you will lose your best friend, and I don’t want that pain for you.” His voice cracks, so I look over and I’m stunned to see his eyes become glassy. He looks at me with a severe expression that makes my heart pound. “I know what it’s like to lose a best friend.”
My breath catches. My single word response is a mere whisper. “Mum?”
He closes his eyes and nods. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him.
“Gareth, talk to me,” I beg, witnessing a world full of emotional torment that he’s never let free. Never given life to. He’s got to be going mental inside that dark mind of his.
He shakes his head. “Another time perhaps. Today, I’m more concerned about you. Poppy’s in your net, Booker. You just have to turn around and look at her.”
My vision is distracted when I see Poppy re-emerge back onto the pitch, firmly clutching Andrew’s arm. Her eyes look red like she’s been crying. Without hesitation, I’m on my feet and marching straight at them in long, hacked-off strides, barely stopping myself from breaking into a run.
“Poppy,” I bark. “What’s happened? What’s he done?” I turn a furious glower at Andrew, who looks shocked and dismayed by my accusation.
“Nothing, Booker,” she says, stopping when we reach each other and avoiding my gaze as she dabs at her eyes.
“Bullshit. What’s got you upset?” I thrust a finger into Andrew’s chest. “If you’ve done something to her, I swear to fuck you’ll be sorry. Harris Brothers come in quadruplets and we don’t fight fair.”
“Back the fuck off, lad!” Andrew exclaims, stepping into my space. “She’s a grown arse woman. If she needs protecting, she’ll ask for it. If anything, she needs protecting from ye!”
Andrew’s words cut me as I look at Poppy. She eyes me with a sad look that hurts my insides. All of the sudden, this feels like the worst kind of betrayal. She doesn’t belong with this prat. She doesn’t need him for comfort and protecting. I should be Poppy’s safe place. Her shoulder to cry on.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask, my voice shaky.
“No, Booker. I don’t want to talk. I’m having a lovely time with Andrew, and I’d appreciate it if you’d go back to Sidney and leave us alone.” Her voice is acerbic and flat. Nothing like how she usually talks to me.
“It’s time!” Indie’s voice calls as she hustles out onto the pitch with Tanner hot on her heels. “Everyone take your seats!”
My eyes reluctantly pull from Poppy as she walks away with Andrew. I turn to see Tanner striding toward me. He’s dressed in a slim grey suit with a black tie. His long hair is down, nearly to his shoulders, and his beard is trim. He looks like a proper grown up.
His smile is beaming as he looks at me. “You look like shit.”
I school myself to smile back at him. “It’s nothing.”
“Good because nothing can get me down today, baby bro. My future wife is fucking incredible.” He wraps his arms around me and pats my back with a hearty hug.
I can’t help but laugh. “Because she agreed to marry you?”
He shakes his head. “She went into the hospital early this morning, saved a twenty-nine-week-old foetus, and she’s back there looking more fucking beautiful than the day I fell in love with her.” His happiness is boiling over.
I clench my teeth and smile. “I’m happy for you.”
“Let’s get married,” he says and gives me a shove toward the makeshift altar.
I rejoin Sidney while Poppy and Andrew sit on the other side of the aisle directly across from us. She continues to avoid my gaze as the preacher asks us all to rise.
The guitar duo’s amp erupts into a stunning instrumental version of U2’s, “With or Without You.” The music swells, their rhythmic strumming echoing off the empty seats of Tower Park. Goosebumps crawl up the back of my neck.
When the male’s voice begins crooning, Belle appears from the tunnel. She’s dressed in a red floor-length gown, her long dark hair swept off to one side. She looks beautiful, but she’s just standing there crying. Full on crying so hard that she’s stuck in her tracks, trying to collect herself enough to move. Indie rushes toward her, and I glance back at Tanner, whose face is contorted with emotion. But he remains firmly in place at the altar, stoic as he can be with tears streaming down his face.
Indie reaches Belle and nods at her in encouragement. The two share a quiet word and then Belle grabs Indie’s hand. They walk the rest of the way together. Strong. Loving. A friend giving away a friend.
When they pass by me, my eyes find Poppy, who’s no longer avoiding my gaze. She’s looking at me, her eyes pools of tears as she watches me with a sombre expression. Andrew whispers in her ear and then takes her hand in his, squeezing.
She shouldn’t be with him.
She should be with me.
She should be in the chair beside me.
She should be holding my hand.
She should be mine.
And that thought terrifies me.
The preacher says some words. Belle cries some more. Tanner wipes her tears. They exchange vows. They make promises. They put rings on each other’s fingers.
And then…they kiss.
Music erupts. Hugs are exchanged. Congratulations are given. And I’m just floating around all of it, trying not to get too close. If I give way to what I’m feeling, there’s no telling what might happen.
After the service, the photographer takes clusters of people away for more photos while the rest of us congregate at the bar. Sidney is latched onto my arm, but I’m so far inside my head, I don’t even know if I’m responding to her at this point.
A glass of red wine is shoved into my hand and then Sidney drags me over to the table where Poppy and Andrew are sitting. Poppy looks better now. No longer emotional. Her eyes are narrowed on Sidney as we approach.
“Poppy McAdams, how are you?” Sidney peals and reaches out to hug her. “Or do you have a new last name?” Sidney looks over at Andrew. “Are you Poppy’s husband or…?”
Hearing the word husband attached to Poppy has me grinding my teeth.
“Friend,” I bark out, though I’m not convinced he deserves that title.
Poppy eyes me. “Date,” she deadpans and then turns to smile sweetly at Sidney. “This is Andrew William. Andrew, this is Sidney Carmichael.”
Sidney’s smile is tight. “Nice to meet you.” She diverts her eyes back to Poppy. “It’s been years, Poppy! I hardly recognised you with that interesting haircut. What brings you back to London? Last I heard, you were living in Germany.”
“I got a job teaching German to Year 7’s in Hoxton,” Poppy answers, sipping her wine.
“Oh, how exciting!” Sidney exclaims, folding her hands on the table. “And where are you living?”
Poppy lets out a loud laugh and then looks at me with wide, blinking eyes. “Booker didn’t mention that I’m his flatmate?” She continues to laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the universe.
Sidney looks as though she’s been slapped. Smiling around the rim of her wine glass, she replies, “No, it didn’t come up. We’ve been busy catching up. It’s been a few months since I saw him last.”
“Nutty, Booker! Always so forgetful,” Poppy sings, rolling her wine glass between her hands and eyeing Sidney speculatively. “You guys see a lot of each other then?”
Sidney leans her head on my shoulder and it makes me fidgety. “Booker likes to take me to his charity events and football functions. It’s nice to have a real friend along for those obligations that can otherwise be rather dull.”
Poppy sneers, “How lovely that you guys are so close that you can save him like that.”
“Poppy—” I begin to explain, but Sidney cuts me off.
“How long have you two been together?” She points between Andrew and Poppy.
“It’s new,” Andrew answers in his dumb Scottish lilt, snaking a possessive arm around Poppy’s waist. “But it seems promising. I get tae watch her gym sesh nearly every day, so there’s no much of her I dinnae ken.” He growls and playfully nips at Poppy’s shoulder.
It makes Poppy giggle.
I hate him. I want him gone.
“You think ogling at her like a peeping Tom as she runs on a treadmill equates to knowing her?” My voice is deep and authoritative as my posture straightens.
“Booker—” Poppy snaps, but Andrew holds a hand up to her.
“Shhh,” he says to Poppy. “I got this.”
“Don’t tell her to be quiet,” I growl through clenched teeth.
“Dinnae worry aboot her, mate!” he exclaims, moving away from the table to come at me.
I step forward just as Camden barrels in between us and throws his arm around my shoulder. “Booker! We need you for a family photo!” His voice is jovial, but I’m still seeing fucking red.
Andrew huffs out a laugh as I am all but dragged away by my brother.