Summary: Your best mate, Reece James, decides its about time you try dating one of his teammates that you've been crushing on for ages.
Growing up, your fondest memories were made at Stamford Bridge. Being a physio meant your mum had a backstage pass to the inner workings of the Bridge, a privilege which was often extended to you as well. Your mum took you with her as often as she could, letting you linger in the staff areas whilst she took photos, wrote notes and examined players after spectacular matches.
It's only natural that you befriended a young boy who also happened to constantly be hanging around the Bridge- Reece James. The two of you were friends the moment you met- Reece’s penchant for pranks often meant you found yourself on the wrong end of a scolding. Thankfully, your quick wit and sincere apologies usually meant the two of you got off without so much as a slap on the wrist.
Now that you've grown up- in age, not in maturity necessarily- Reece takes it upon himself to ensure you're taking life by the horns. He constantly suggests the two of you partake in daring, sometimes crazy sounding activities. You drew the line at skydiving, however; scuba diving off the Florida coast during preseason you could tolerate, but jumping out of a perfectly functional, perfectly safe airplane was simply not your cup of tea.
Reece still enjoys meddling when you're both home in London though. Whether it be trying to encourage you to get out and meet someone or forcing you to try exotic foods, every day with Reece around is an unpredictable adventure.
“Reece, you know I don't do caffeine before ten. It's my resolution! Are you trying to make me break it already?”
Pursing his lips slightly, Reece tips his head from side to side. “Not necessarily- I'm just trying to introduce you to someone.”
“Introduce me?” You frown, passing through the door to the coffee shop that Reece opens for you. “To who?”
“Someone I'm hoping you'll really get on with,” Reece says simply. He approaches the counter with a smile and orders for the pair of you, “just our usual please Sylvia, thank you.”
You snap your fingers, “ohhhh wait, is this the part where you tell me you've secretly had a girlfriend for ages and haven't told me about her? Am I about to meet a special girl?!”
“Honestly, I'm flattered that you think I'd be able to keep a secret like that from you. I must be very stealthy if you believe I could pull that off.”
If you roll your eyes any harder, they would pop out of your head. “God you're annoying. Who is it then? Come on! The suspense is killing me. You know I hate surprises!”
“A friend of mine. Someone who I think you'll be very glad to meet. Actually, I know you'll enjoy it.”
“Okaaay…” You aren't sure what to expect at this point. Of all things, you aren't expecting the Greek god, adonis of a man that sits tucked away at a corner table, sunlight catching on his eyelashes as he tips his head towards the window.
You recognize him instantly- Chelsea's reserve keeper, Marcus Bettinelli. Aka your top men's team crush at the moment. Broad, muscled shoulders, short sandy brown hair, and friendly, inviting blue eyes that soak in the details of the cosy coffee house. He seems perfectly at ease here, as in his element as he would be on the training pitch.
“He's even prettier in person,” you murmur, half to yourself and half to your friend. You're stuck in a trance, like a sorcerer has cast a spell and granted you tunnel vision. Said spell also turns your feet into roots, which results in Reece jabbing an elbow into your side when you don't response to whatever he's just said.
“Quit gawking and go tell him yourself how pretty you think he is.”
“Reece…”
“No excuses! Take your coffee and let's go! I'll get you through introductions, so you've got about sixty seconds to pull together a single coherent thought in that head of yours.” Reece taps your temple with his pointer finger, which earns him a prompt slap to his offending hand.
“Fine, let's get this over with so I can make a fool of myself and go home to sulk.”
“So dramatic,” Reece sighs before leading the way to the keeper. “Oi, mate! This is the girl I was telling you about.”
Marcus smiles, standing up to shake your hand. “I'm Marcus, it's lovely to meet you. Reece has all good things to say about you.”
Marcus’ hand nearly engulfs yours. His accompanying smile fills your bones with a fuzzy static, like an old school tv searching for a program. The substantial height difference forces you to tip your head back to meet his eyes. You nearly gasp when you do so; now that he's stood up, the mid morning sunlight reflects off them like pools of liquid glass. Polite to a fault, Marcus allows you to admire him without comment.
Reece interrupts your silent appreciation with a laugh. “Trust me, she knows who you are. Been obsessed with you since you signed with Chelsea, I swear.”
The glare you level in Reece’s direction would have most sensible men running for the hills. Unfortunately, Reece knows you're more bark than bite, so the man only smiles. “Just telling the truth, don't shoot the messenger.”
“It's lovely to meet you, Marcus. I'm sorry about Reece, you know how he can be.”
“Hey!”
“Oh, trust me I know! I've become a pro at ignoring him. Please, have a seat.” Marcus gestures to the empty seat opposite the one he's already claimed, and you automatically try searching for a third so Reece can join you.
“Here, Reece take this one, I'll grab that one there-”
“Oh nah, I'm busy! I've gotta get going.” When you blink, silently begging Reece to stay and ensure you don't stick your foot in your mouth, Reece shrugs. “Like I said, I only brought you here to introduce you to someone, so I've done my job.”
Why are you not surprised that Reece has pulled a trick like this? You give him your best ‘sit your arse down now before I lose it' look, but Reece's response is a cheeky wink that leaves you wanting to wring his neck. And you would, or at least give him a verbal lashing- if part of you wasn't secretly over the moon about the idea of an impromptu date with Marcus.
Because what Reece said is true- you have followed Marcus’ career closely since his signing. He was successful at Fulham, and you've no doubt that if he was able to start regularly for Chelsea, he would do the same. Pressure doesn't bother him. In all the archived matches you've watched, Marcus keeps his cool in any situation. And something about that calmness draws you to him like a moth to a flame.
What you've noticed is that despite his obvious skill, Marcus’ true contribution to the team so far has been off-pitch. From everything you've read, Marcus is a positive, uplifting force that all the lads can count on after a poor match. He's consistently the last off the field, picking up his teammates and encouraging them to go again the next week.
“I'll see you at Cobham Reece, make sure you stop home and grab your good boots for training yeah? Don't forget them like you did yesterday!” Marcus chastises Reece with a voice similar to what one might use when reminding a child to behave. And on cue, Reece’s face contorts in a scowl that is indicative of an incoming tantrum.
“Reece has good boots?” You ask as you finally slide into the plush, red chair you were previously offered. “I thought they were all torn up and smelly. Are you saying he has a decent pair that he's hiding?”
Marcus smiles and sips his coffee. “Not at all. They're all disgusting, someone really needs to clean out his wardrobe. I keep telling the media team they need to make an award for ‘stinkiest boots that are most likely to clear out a room’. Reece would win by a shoe-slide.” He laughs quietly at his own cheesy joke, which is normally something you hate, but it's tolerable from Marcus. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Reece sneak out and make a mental note to chew him out later if things go south.
“So does Reece set you up on things like this often? I feel like he's made a habit of shoving his single friends into situations together and letting the results shake out on their own.” You throw out the ‘single’ bit to test the waters and pray Marcus doesn't contradict you. Even if you despise Reece for doing this, you can't say you're surprised. For the last few weeks, Reece has tried again and again to convince you to go out with a number of his teammates, claiming that he was sick of hearing you complain about having nothing to do on weeknights.
Well, now you can't exactly say you're bored this morning, either.
“Never- Reece hasn't done anything like this before that I know of! And trust me, I've got an ear to the ground so I know just about everything that happens at Chelsea.”
“Is that so? You know everything that goes on, huh?” You tip your head, waiting for the not so innocent side of his words to sink in. You can see the gears click in his head, and his face scrunches up adorably when he realizes.
“Oh- no not anything like that! That's not what I- ugh!” Marcus laughs, brushing his hands on his shirt as if he was ridding himself of crumbs. “God I want those images out of my head… thanks a lot for that!” Marcus smiles as he adds the last bit, and you're torn between interpreting it as a joke and somewhat sincerity. More of him thanking you for your humor than the actual meaning behind the words, like he hasn't laughed so easily in ages.
*********
Before you know it, two empty ceramic coffee mugs and the buttery remnants of a warmed croissant lie in flakes on a plate in front of you. You clutch your stomach, fighting for breath as you laugh at Marcus’ latest story.
“I'm serious- no he did, I swear! Rob just got up and tripped on thin air- for a keeper than man is horribly clumsy!”
“And fell flat on his face?! God- of course it's on the one day media weren't around! That video would have millions- no, billions of views!” Your phone buzzes face down on the table, and you reach for it with laughter still bubbling in your throat. You open Reece’s message without a second thought.
How's it going? You two must have hit it off if you haven't called to murder me yet… let Betts leave so he can get to training before he gets fined will ya?
“Oh- oh my goodness, Marcus it's already three…” you turn your phone so Marcus can skim the message and see the time.
“Is it really? Wow, I hadn't realized… I was enjoying our little coffee date.” Marcus’ forlorn smile is one that you echo. You had both gotten so wrapped up in getting to know one another, trading stories and slowly inching closer to each other as the morning wore on.
You sigh and stack the plates and cups as your heart sinks. “You really should go, can't leave your team hanging… thank you for today though.”
Marcus half smiles, “I suppose I should… I guess time flies when you're making a gorgeous lady laugh, huh?”
“Oh hush- don't even…” you finish the last of your decaf coffee, already sure you'll be up all night, and not just from the other two full-caff cups you had. “It was nice talking to you, Betts. Even if you are a man that likes his toast burnt to such a crisp that it could be used as charcoal to start a fire in an emergency.”
Marcus’ laugh is rapidly becoming one of your favorite sounds. “Hey, it's just better that way, it gives it some extra flavor! But you know I have to see you again, right?”
“Me?” You bite your lip to stop a laugh. What's so interesting about you that Marcus would want to see you again? Sure, the conversation hadn't lulled in the hours since you sat down. And okay, he'd made more than a handful of flirtatious comments in the past twenty minutes alone. But compared to other women, other girlfriends… what did you offer?
“Yes, you,” Marcus smiles and nudges your foot under the table. “Unless I've bored you to tears?” You purse your lips, half inclined to let him draw assumptions solely to see what he thinks. Marcus clicks his tongue endearingly, both teasing and disappointed. “And here I thought I was doing such a good job making myself seem interesting. Damn! Guess next time I'm gonna have to try harder.”
“I see you've assumed I'll say yes, Betts. I haven't said a word yet, have I?”
Marcus’ grin is a mischievous thing, “I can see it in your eyes, you'll say yes. Let's do coffee again, same time, same place on Friday, how's that sound? You can give me a prematch speech, psych me up before the weekend.”
“Nah, you won't need that. You won't make it off the bench anyway!” Marcus gasps, one hand to his chest in mock offense. Your wink soothes the sting of your teasing jab, as does the way you pat his hand. “Don't worry, I'll still pretend like you've got a shot at playing some minutes. Consider me your new number one fan!”
Marcus shakes his head slowly and sighs, though his pretty blue eyes still retain their charming twinkle. “I guess I'll take that. Just like you'll take the kit I'll bring for you to wear on Sunday.”
Your grin lights up the entire cafe, “Marcus Bettinelli, you've got yourself a deal."
