DINNER WITH THE BROWN

XAVIER'S POV

As soon as the jet touched down in Manchester, Katrina leaned into me, grinning.

“We’re back,” she whispered.

“Feels like we were gone for a month.” I said squeezing her hand.

“I can’t wait to crash in my bed.” She laughed, soft and sleepy.

Me too, can't wait.

Outside, the city lights flickered through the windows. We stepped off the plane. The team followed behind us, dragging bags, already loud again.

“Press in 48 hours!” Coach shouted from behind us. “No scandals, no nonsense! Y’all hear me?”

“Can I still order wings?” Liam groaned.

“Don’t fucking eat ‘em shirtless on TikTok again!” The guys burst out laughing. Katrina stayed close beside me as we walked toward the waiting convoy.

“I missed this air,” she said, tilting her face to the breeze.

“You just missed your shower and your hair products.” I smiled watching her, she looked beautiful so why... I didn't complete the thought, I pushed it down immediately.

“And my silk pillowcase.”

“And your closet.” She gasped.

“Yes!”

We climbed into the black SUV and took our sit, Katrina curled into my side immediately and I pressed a kiss into her hair.

The Brown mansion looked exactly how I remembered it, tall and beautiful. It didn't compare to ours but ours was more modern.. This gave old money.

The front doors swung open as we stepped out.

Mr. Brown stood there in a pressed shirt and slacks, arms wide. “My girls!” he called.

“Daddy!” Katrina yelled like a kid who was given her favorite cookie.

My Brown hugged her like she was five again, lifting her briefly off the ground.

Then he turned towards Melissa who stood there waiting for her turn, he wrapped her in a tight hug too, and kissed the side of her head.

I waited patiently behind them. Mr. Brown turned his gaze towards me with bright eyes.

“Xavier Kesh,” he said. “You look taller every time I see you.”

“Sir,” I said with a smile, stepping forward.

“You held your own out there.” He gave me a solid side hug and laughed.

“Trying my best Sir.” Mr Brown is man of the people I respect and see as a father figure.

“Your best just made half the country scream. Come inside.”

Dinner was already set when we stepped in, I stared at the table. The Brown staff weren't playing, they meant business.

I sat beside Katrina, while melissa sat across from us.

She didn’t say anything, just poured water into her glass and passed the pitcher when someone needed it.

“Alright,” Mr. Brown said, lifting a wine glass. “To victory.”

“To victory!” Katrina echoed, and everyone clinked their glasses.

“We should have champagne.” Katrina suggested leaning into me.

“You’re already tipsy from your win,” I whispered.

“Let me live.” I didn't reply because it was time to eat, table manner.

As were eating, Katrina couldn't stop running her mouth, she kept telling stories like it was her job.

“Okay, okay...so when Melissa was twelve, she got a paper cut and didn’t flinch. I cried harder than she did.”

“You cry when the kettle whistles too loud.” Mr. Brown said with a chuckle.

“It’s called being sensitive, Daddy.”

“It’s called being dramatic.” I turned towards the sound, Melissa was staring at her food like she didn't say anything.

“Same thing,” Katrina replied brightly making us laugh.

I glanced at Melissa again, she was now focused on cutting her fish.

“Melissa. You alright?” Mr. Brown looked asked, concern edge on his voice as he fixed his eyes on.

“Yes, daddy.” She nodded.

“Not too drained from the trip?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know I’m proud of you.”

“I know.”

He leaned forward slightly. “You still sure about the modeling thing?” I saw her freeze for half a second, Katrina looked up too.

“I got a message last week,” Mr. Brown continued. “That brand from Italy? They still want to meet you.”

“I said no,” Melissa said.

“They asked again.”

“I still mean no.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re sure?"

“I don’t want a shortcut.” There was a pause.

“That’s my girl.” A proud smile appeared on Mr. Brown's face.

I watched her as she sipped her water, this girl was intriguing.

Refusing help from one of the most connected men in Manchester like it was nothing.

I couldn’t lie...it impressed me. A lot.

Katrina noticed me looking and nudged me under the table.

“What?” I whispered.

“You’re zoning out.”

“I’m eating.” And that was what I was doing, nobody zones out when eating.

“You were staring.”

I rolled my eyes and replied her. “At the food.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“Don’t be weird.” Weird? I'm not weird, she is.

“You’re the one who just stabbed your rice with a spoon.”

“Because you distracted me.” I laughed and kissed her cheek.

Katrina turned back to the table. “Anyway! Daddy—remember when I had appendicitis and I thought it was gas?”

Mr. Brown groaned. “You were screaming, ‘I’m dying’ at 3 a.m.” Melissa snorted.

“She laughed! It’s a miracle!” Katrina pointed at Melissa with a smile.

“I didn’t laugh,” Melissa said with a snort.

“You made a noise. That counts.” Mr. Brown shook his head fondly.

“You two are something else.”

Dinner winded down. Plates were cleared, someone brought fruit in glass bowls.

Melissa stood. “I’ll head out now.”

“This late?” Mr. Brown stood too.

“I’ve got stuff in the morning.” He didn’t question it, just walked around the table and pulled her into a hug again.

Then he leaned in, then whispered something into her ear.

I saw her freeze for what felt like a second but I noticed because I was staring at her.

I also noticed the flicker of her eye—just a little, her mouth pressed into a tight line.

He kissed her temple and she responded with a single nod before walking out.

“Be safe,” he said.

“I will.”

“You’re not staying the night?” Katrina called out.

“No.”

“We’ve got guest rooms.”

“I’ve got my own place.” She didn’t wait for more questions. Just gave a soft “Goodnight” and walked out.

“Xavier,” Mr. Brown called after dinner, just as I stood to leave with Katrina.

“Yes, sir?” I turned.

He gave a relaxed smile. “Why don’t you stay the night? You’ve been on a plane all day. No need to drive back across the city this late.” I hesitated, glancing at Katrina.

She was already grinning. “Stay. You know my bed’s more comfortable than yours.”

Mr. Brown laughed. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir.” I thanked him with a polite smile.

He nodded and turned away, already distracted by his phone.

Katrina grabbed my wrist immediately. “Let’s go.”

She pulled me up the grand staircase, barefoot now, her dress swishing around her legs.

Her fingers stayed wrapped around mine, tight, like she was scared someone would take me.

The moment we entered her room, she shut the door with her foot and turned to me fast.

“You looked hot at dinner,” she said, reaching for my shirt.

I raised an eyebrow. “You waited until now to say that?”

“I didn’t want my dad throwing a fork at you.” I laughed, but it faded when she pushed up onto her toes and kissed me. Hard.

Her hands slipped under my shirt. “Take this off.”

“Impatient,” I muttered, but I obeyed.

She pulled me closer, lips hungry, dragging me backwards until the backs of my knees hit her bed. Her dress fell to the floor as she climbed over me, skin warm and soft.

“Katrina…”

“You’re mine tonight.”

“I always am.” I said in-between our kiss.

She kissed me for a while before pulling away, she stared at me with those mischievous look of her and grabbed my hand.

“Come on.” I followed her into the ensuite bathroom, still flushed from the heat of her mouth.

She ran the tub and turned on the dim lights. The water steamed up instantly, curling around the marble walls. She stepped in, settling back, hair tied up, bare skin glowing in the golden light.

I followed immediately, pulling her towards me, her felt her wall over my already hard dick.

Warm water lapped over my chest, as she tangles her legs with mine.

She smiled and rested her head on my shoulder. “Isn't this perfect?”

"It's fucking perfect" I muttered as I wrapped my arm around her.

She fit there easily. Everything should’ve felt perfect. But yet....

I couldn’t stop thinking about her... Her blushing face, just wouldn't leave my memory.

I looked down at Katrina, beautiful and mine.

She kissed my jaw gently. “Tired?”

“No.”

“Then what’s on your mind?”

“Just the game. The press. That stuff.” She hummed and snuggled closer.

“We’ll crush it. We always do.” I nodded and kissed her temple.

Yes, We would crush it. I would crush what ever feeling that was trying to crawl it's way through me.

I love Katrina. I really do, right?