Cocky Notes: A Hero Club Novel

by Leesa Bow

  “There is no you and me. What is it going to take for you to stop?”

  My friends slide alongside me, and she straightens, tapping her iPad repeatedly.

  “Morning, Macy.”

  None notice her glare as she switches her expression to work mode.

  “Morning, gentlemen. I gather it’s the same order. Are any of you ordering cake like Reef?”

  “Cake?” Billy turns to stare at me.

  “Spur of the minute decision. Scrap the cake,” I tell Macy.

  She holds my gaze a moment longer waiting for me to add to the order. Only I know it’s a win. It didn’t sound like a win moments before, but she is now looking at me. “Just coffee for now.”

  Definitely a win because every other time I glance up, I catch her looking my way. After paying the bill to another waitress assuming she is in the kitchen avoiding me, I walk outside and wait by the light post. Macy appears by my table and looks under a couple of items as though expecting a note. Only this time there isn’t one. I gave her some reprieve, but I type out a text on my phone.

  What will it take for you to talk to me?

  Just once?

  The moment I hit send, I glance up to her turning to see me standing in my regular spot. I hold up my phone, hold her gaze a moment longer, before wandering along the street toward my car. Hands in jean pockets, I hum out a tune thinking about how to play by her rules.

  I give her space because this weekend is Adele’s party, and although she hasn’t mentioned it, Chance told me she’ll be there.

  During the entire plane trip, I think about how I could be flying with Macy. My girl beside me and not another teammate because all year I fly around the country with the lads. The thought of sitting beside Macy excites me, and if everything goes well, I could change my flight to the same one as hers to come home.

  I curse. I’m getting ahead of myself. After a few days of radio silence, it’s not looking great. The ball’s been in her hands since I apologised, but it looks like she’s tossed it aside without a care.

  I do care, and I’m not prepared to lose.

  Lose her.

  I spend the day with my family before heading to Adele’s.

  ABBA blares through the front door indicating this will not be the usual party for Chance or me. But he grew up with a sister and will be used to it. I’m down the hall, present tucked under my arm when the music changes to Taylor Swift. Better.

  “Reef, it’s great to see you.” Chance’s mother pulls me into her arms.

  “Mrs Bateman. You look well.” I hug her with my free hand. “How have you been?”

  She pushes the same copper locks out of her eyes, and when she smiles and her dimples appear, it reminds me of her son. “I’m well. We’re all well,” she emphasises. “I was just telling Chance I’m planning another trip to Iowa to visit my mother. I miss her terribly and hope Chance and Adele can also make the trip sometime this year.”

  “A trip to the US always sounds fun and even better to see family. Talking of Adele, where is the birthday girl?”

  “Out back dancing with a glass of champagne in her hand. Can I rely on you to make sure she doesn’t make a fool of herself tonight?”

  Palms high, I shake my head. “Don’t put pressure on me, Mrs B.” It’s Adele’s twenty-first, and one thing I do know is we have all made fools of ourselves while celebrating.

  “No, I guess I shouldn’t, especially since she started drinking at lunch with her new friend who is staying here. I overhear things.” She smiles at me. “I believe you know her. She’s from Adelaide.”

  I raise a brow. “Macy is staying here?”

  “It’s the only way Adele could get her to come to the party.” She pats my arm. “Heard your name mentioned once or twice. So, I suppose you’re eager to get out there and join them.”

  My gaze is already fixed on the door looking beyond the kitchen to the garden. I wander through the crowd searching for the small stage. I didn’t have to search far as it’s near the large speakers erected on poles with Beyoncé’s voice floating over the crowd. Hell, if I knew Macy was staying here, I would have arrived before dinner.

  Hands in the air, Macy and Adele twirl about swaying and grinding without a care.

  I want to take a front seat and watch my girl dance, only I need to be subtle and head to the bar to calm my heart with a strong drink.

  “Didn’t think you’d be working the booze.”

  Chance walks around and pats me on the back. “My way of overseeing how much Adele drinks.” He winks. “She thinks I’m being a good bro and helping out.” He grins. “I’m a protective bastard making sure no one spikes her drink.”

  I chuckle. “Heard those two began celebrating early.”

  “Yeah.” He walks back around the bar and serves the person standing beside me. “Macy arrived last night and heads home tomorrow around lunchtime.” He shoots me a knowing look. When the guy walks away, Chance pops the lid of a Corona and hands me the bottle.

  “Thanks.” I raise and tilt it toward him in gratitude before turning to peek through the crowd toward the dance floor.

  “Take it slow tonight,” he says. “Macy’s having fun and because she’s been drinking for hours, she mightn’t remember everything tomorrow. She wants to let her hair down and have fun.”

  I nod without looking at him. “If Macy gives me a couple of minutes of her time, I’ll be happy.”

  He laughs. “Don’t wait too long if you want to talk about anything serious. They were talking smack a few minutes ago when I refilled their bubbles.”

  “How many bottles have they consumed?” I touch the pile of twisted wire on the end of the bar. “And what’s this?”

  “Too many and my latest artwork.”

  “You call this art?”

  He frowns at me. “I tried to replicate one I picked up. Wait! Don’t you have one?”

  “Why would I have one?”

  He shrugs. “Never mind.” Chance pulls out a straw thingy and rips the wrapper with his teeth. He leans back for the powder to sprinkle on his tongue.

  “What are you doing, mate?”

  “Keeping up my energy. Ever since my last trip to the US, I’ve craved sherbet. These are from the US and called Pixy Stix. You want one?”

  “You’re a bloody kid sometimes.” I chuckle. “I’ll be back. I’m going to say hi to your dad.”

  Mr Bateman is with a group of Chance’s teammates near the dance floor. I stand beside him with Macy in my periphery.

  “Mr Bateman.” We shake hands.

  “It’s been a while, son. How’s Adelaide treating you?”

  “All good. Looking forward to next season. I hear Chance is close to playing his first game.”

  “He’s received a lot of attention off and on the field. His guernsey’s are sold out almost every game, and his signed poster is in demand. I hope he plays well when he gets his chance, or those poster sales might plummet.”

  I chuckle. “Fans love him. Or should I say the chicks?”

  “It’s the selectors he needs to impress.”

  We clink bottles before I turn to his mates. “Gerry. Paulo.” I nod to both guys. “The team is killing it this year.”

  They clink their bottles against mine.

  “Season has been a good one so far. Hope we can continue it on to the finals,” Gerry says.

  “When do you guys start playing?” Paulo asks.

  “In a couple more months,” I reply. Preseason is revving up now. “Next month we’re heading to Singapore for a trial game against the Devils.”

  “Hope it’s a good year for you.”

  I nod. “Thanks. Same to you.”

  I keep the same beer bottle in my hand even though it’s empty. I talk to a few different guys, but the majority of guests are unfamiliar since Adele’s friends are two or three years younger, and she attended a different high school. I chat about trivial matters to his dad and consider how well he looks since Chance was worried about
him. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, and I notice he’s lost weight. I’m wondering if it’s one of the things troubling Chance.

  “Are you keeping fit, Mr B?”

  “I am. Walking every day.”

  I nod and don’t ask anything else about his health only about Chance and his training schedule compared to mine, and our families. An hour later, I head over to the bar for my second drink of the night. When I turn, Macy is standing behind me.

  I hesitate.

  What to do?

  I smile and nod. “Macy.”

  She tilts her head to the side, brown eyes wide. “What? No cocky remark from you, Burton?”

  Burton. She’s never called me by my last name.

  “Not tonight.” I lean over and kiss Adele. “Happy birthday, gorgeous. I left your gift with your mum.”

  “Thanks, Reefy.” She reaches up and hugs me, arms pulling tight around my neck for me to help her balance. “Glad you could make it.”

  “I wanted to come over sooner, but you’ve barely left the dance floor, or you’ve had a crowd around you, so I waited. I wasn’t being rude.”

  “No problem-o.” She pushes her finger hard into my chest. “It’s Macy you should have been worried about.”

  My gaze shoots to Macy.

  “I don’t care,” she says quickly.

  Clearly, she does. “Can I chat with you a moment?”

  “I need a drink.”

  I ask Chance for a bottle of water and hand it to her. “You need a chaser of water. Otherwise, you’re going to regret it tomorrow.”

  “Whatever.” She takes it from me and downs half the bottle quickly.

  In the far corner of the yard is a tall Jacaranda tree that has been there for years. As a child, I remember Chance’s parents sitting under it on a wooden bench chair drinking their coffee.

  Assuming the chair is still there, I lead Macy away from the crowd and noise. She stumbles once, and I grab her elbow to catch her. “Easy. It’s paved so you won’t trip on anything except your own feet.”

  She giggles, and I almost turn and head back thinking I’ve lost my window of opportunity, only I’m not giving up my one chance to talk. Drunk or not, I hope there are parts of our conversation she’ll remember.

  I guide her to the seat without her objecting.

  “Summer…” she says in a breathy sigh. “Don’t you love the stars at night?”

  I gaze up to the clear night sky, stars twinkling, and agree.

  “There’s the southern cross. And the saucepan.” She points.

  I chuckle. “Your enthusiasm reminds me of when we were kids and used to go camping.”

  She makes an exasperated sound. “I never camped as a kid.”

  I look into her eyes, a shadow of darkness veiling her expression. It doesn’t matter we can’t see each other clearly. Beside me, I sense what she’s feeling, and something’s not right beneath the charade of being drunk.

  Assuming it’s me, I place my hand over hers. “I’m not here to make trouble. Only to say I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry for how I treated you and for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story. I was a douche and wish I could take it all back.”

  Her head is lowered as though she’s thinking. Or trying to see through the haze of alcohol. She nods, and my shoulders relax. “You were a douchebag,” she says. “And you can’t take it back. But we can both learn not to fall so quickly again. You obviously have trust issues. So, do I. So…”

  Her phone buzzes. She takes it out and reads the screen.

  My heart’s racing because I anticipated how she was going to finish the sentence, and why would she answer her phone unless she’s expecting a message.

  She gasps, and I want to read the message. “Shit. I can’t do this.”

  “What? Can’t do what?”

  “My mother contacted me for the first time in years and asked to meet up. She wanted to see me in Adelaide, but I said I was coming to Melbourne. Happens to be where she lives now, and she asked to meet me tomorrow morning for coffee before I go home.” She wipes her eyes, and her breaths quicken. “I can’t. How do you tell your mother you hate her? Because I do,” she adds quickly. “She was dead to me, and now it’s like she’s risen to haunt me with her perfect bloody timing. I don’t need this shit. But she keeps sending me messages saying ‘she’s sorry’ and ‘can we catch up this once’. I know I should give her a chance because people can change, right? But I’m scared to know if she has another family and why she easily ditched me. I don’t have good memories, so I shouldn’t care, but—”

  “Hey…” I pull her into my side and hold her tight. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I understand. But sometimes people deserve a second chance,” I say, thinking of us. “If you decide to go and meet her, I can come for support. I can keep my distance, so you know there’s someone there for you.”

  Macy sobs into my side. She springs to her feet and stumbles a few steps before landing on all fours. Moments later, all the alcohol she has consumed pours out of her and in the garden nearby.

  “Thatta girl,” I say and rub her back between her bouts of puking. “Get it all out.”

  I help her to her feet and walk her back around to the house. I tell Mrs B about the accident and offer to clean it up tomorrow in the light of day. Macy apologises, and Mrs B waves her on.

  “Get some rest, Macy. You’ve had a big day.” She points down the hall. I walk her to her room and tuck her into bed with her clothes on.

  “Call me tomorrow,” I whisper while wiping her mascara tears away and kiss her on the cheek.

  Macy reaches out and grabs my hand with her eyes closed. “Thank you.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “I read an article on why people like me are still single,” she mumbles, and I sit on the bed. “It described possibilities of being too needy, too picky—”

  “Picky?”

  “Not with you,” she giggles. “I liked everything about you. It’s not the reason we broke up. Don’t distract me. Other things like… I speak my mind too much, and not looking my best—”

  “Looking your best?” I croak. “It doesn’t matter what you look like, or wear, you’ll always be perfect to me.”

  “No. I’m talking about me, and how things can contribute to bad habits and ways of thinking. But I did come back to being too needy.”

  Hell, I want her to need me.

  “I can’t have a boyfriend to fill an emotional hole or to feel better about myself. And I know you have commitment phobia…”

  “I don’t.”

  “Anyway…” she yawns and rolls over. “I want you to know I’m sorting myself out.”

  I rub her back a few times until her breathing turns heavy.

  I head out to Chance and tell him what happened. “Make sure she calls me if she needs support. If she decides to meet her mum, I want to be there for her.”

  The following morning, I call Chance to see if they need help cleaning up after the party.

  “All good,” Chance says. “I hired a company, and they arrived early this morning.”

  I check the time, and it’s already mid-morning. “Is there a chance Macy is up to talking or is she still asleep?”

  “She took off an hour ago. She didn’t want any of us to drive her.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah… no… she’s meeting her mother, whom she hates. Remember, I mentioned it last night?”

  “Mate, it slipped my mind. We had our own issues with Adele.”

  “Is Adele okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine, now. Girls go too hard too fast.”

  “Yeah. Well, let me know if I can do anything to help. And if Macy calls, let me know if she’s okay?’

  “Will do. I’m heading to Adelaide with the team next weekend, so I’ll catch you then.”

  I hang up the phone and send Macy a message.

  Do you need me to come to you?

  Chapter Twe
nty-Three

  REEF

  It’s time to board my flight, so I head out of the lounge area and stride to my gate.

  I have checked my phone every ten minutes. My gut is tighter than before a big game. I resist the urge to call because I promised her space. She knows I’m here if she needs me, needs support, and the fact she hasn’t even messaged hurts like a bitch.

  She’s probably already home and in bed recovering from a hangover.

  I glance down at my phone for a final time before queuing to board with the other business-class members. A flash of red catches my eye. I turn to Macy rushing past the line to the seats nearby and collapsing into a chair. She places her hands over her eyes and doesn’t move apart from the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders.

  Fuck.

  Leaving the line, I rush over to her and place a hand on her back. “Mace, are you okay?”

  She gasps with a sharp intake of breath and raises her head. “Oh, shit, trust you to be here.” She swipes her red eyes and attempts to look stoic.

  “What’s going on? Why are you upset?”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I take the seat beside her. “I am worried about it. I asked you to message me if you needed support.”

  She cackles, and the sound doesn’t suit her. “Because imagine if I took you along to meet her. It would have been so much worse.”

  “Worse?”

  “Yes, worse. Because you’re the reason she called me. It’s all your fault. She didn’t want to get to know me. She wanted to make it clear I wasn’t good enough for you. I told her not to panic because you had already made it abundantly clear.” Macy’s eyes hold mine with rage and hurt whirling behind them.

  “How is it my fault? I don’t understand. What have I got to do with it?”

  She cackles again. “My mother’s name is Sylvia. Ring any bells?”

  She holds my gaze and nods when recognition registers. “Sylvia Muirhead?”

  Whoa! No bloody way.

  “Just go, Reef. I need to be alone to absorb and figure some stuff out.”

  “I don’t want you hurting because of her.”