Cocky Notes: A Hero Club Novel

by Leesa Bow

  I send a message to Macy as I promised.

  Hey, just spoke to Chance.

  Surgery went well.

  He’s in good spirits.

  I’m eating dinner when I receive her reply.

  Thank you. I’ve been thinking of him…

  And you.

  We need to talk.

  I have this weekend off.

  Can we talk tomorrow night?

  My fingers are tapping before my brain catches up.

  Tell me a place and time and I’ll be there.

  Well done, Mr Desperado.

  Saturday. My place. 4pm.

  Her place?

  Shit.

  In my mind, it’s her temple, and I’m nervous to step foot in there. Even more so seeing her father again. I’m going on her turf, and it’s going to be on shaky ground.

  Friday morning, I head into Lombardi’s with my teammates after training. I’ve been avoiding coming here because of said space between Macy and me, and now, standing across the road looking through the window, I’m like a kid in a candy shop. I crave what’s inside, and it’s not the food. Crave like a sugar addict on a fucking Keto diet. Her long, brunette hair hangs over her shoulders in waves. I’m watching the way she smiles at customers, and I’m imagining it reaching her mocha eyes with swirls of caramel.

  Hell, I want to taste her—all of her.

  Macy saunters to the counter, her hips swaying. My cock reacts watching her arse—we’ve been apart too long. My gut tightens every time she’s near me. I shove my trembling hands in my jean pockets before stepping casually onto the road because my mates don’t need to see how weak I am.

  My heart’s beating harder than it does when I’ve finished a gruelling training session. I cough as I walk through the door to regulate my breathing, to catch my breath. Only it brings attention to my arrival, and Macy turns and smiles. I give her a quick nod before sliding into my usual seat.

  “He’s reclaimed his seat, Fabio.” She looks at Liam and smiles.

  “Fabio?”

  Macy nods. “He’s sat on your seat in your absence.”

  My absence.

  Liam has long, golden locks, so I catch on to her pet name. I give him a look, and he shrugs. I know why he sat here. It’s the best seat to spy Macy. He was smart not to jump in before me.

  “I’ll have the usual, please, Mace.” I glance at Liam, hinting she knows what I like. “Today, I’ll also have the cake special.” Macy eyes me. “I’ve been breaking the rules lately.” I hold her gaze a moment longer and wait for recognition to drop.

  When Macy leaves us, I glance down and notice new menus. No longer one flat piece of paper printed on one side but a brochure-style printed on every side. Bugger. And I can see there’s a separate laminated menu for night dining.

  “I see you approve of our new menus.” Oliver stands at our table and nudges the menu in my fingers. “Thought I’d save us both some money.”

  I smile at him. “You may have blocked some powerful team strategies and cost us the season’s flag.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll give you the caffeine to jumpstart your thoughts instead and supply butcher’s paper.”

  The lads chuckle, and Oliver agrees to lay some paper over our table. I can only imagine what will be written, or drawn, and not necessarily all football-focused.

  The rest of the morning continues with the guys discussing our training before the conversation switches to the weekend.

  “What are your plans, Nemo?”

  Nemo. When will they drop it? “Going for a surf tomorrow. Having a lazy one.”

  “You coming out with us tomorrow night?”

  “Nope. Staying in.” Because I’ll be with Macy. I tune out as they plan their Saturday night preferring to watch her walk across the room toward us balancing coffees on a tray. Her expression is one of concentration, one I recognise, especially when her eyes are closed. How am I going to get through tomorrow night without touching her?

  I tell the guys I’ll pay the bill and not to wait for me. The cost is worth the few extra minutes I get with Macy.

  I finish typing a message to Chance before standing from the table.

  “Any rubbish you want me to take away for you? Menus?”

  I glance up to her beautiful face—her cheeks have a touch of colour, and her smile is subtle.

  I slide my coffee mug toward her. When she leans to collect it, she slides a napkin toward me.

  Living my life without you gets harder every day,

  I miss seeing your smiling face.

  My seams are starting to fray.

  It hurts not having you in my life,

  This much I know.

  I hope one day I can convince you,

  To give us another go.

  I fold the napkin in half, blow out a long breath.

  “Mace.” I meet her gaze and hold it. “There’s nothing I want more, but you know we need to discuss this because from h-here…” my voice cracks, “… there’s no more fooling around.”

  Her cheeks redden. “I know,” she whispers. She walks away and straight through the door to the kitchen.

  Shit.

  I take a napkin, stare at it a few seconds before standing. Writing a note and leaving it for her is going backward. We’re beyond the notes on tables. I pay the bill to Tara and walk outside and stand by the post near the window. I pull out my phone and send her a message.

  It was easier to receive your notes telling me to get lost.

  I don’t know where to start…

  I told you I love you. I still do.

  Nothing has changed.

  Love you enough not to take a future from you that you deserve.

  So we’ll talk tomorrow night.

  No matter what happens, I want you to know you’ll always own a piece of my heart.

  Before I reach my car, my phone dings with a message.

  No matter what happens…

  It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind?

  I’m trying here, and you shutting me down is killing me.

  Don’t do this to me while I’m at work.

  I stop reading and call her, expecting it to go to voicemail.

  “Reef, I can’t—”

  “Give me a moment, Mace. I’m not shutting you down. I’m not pushing you away. I only want you to be sure because I know if we get back together, it’s not going to be like it was. With you, it’s different. There’s no going back. And there are things blocking us from moving forward.”

  “Okay, I get it. I can’t talk now,” she rasps.

  I stare at my blank phone.

  Shit, she’s gone.

  Fuck.

  Sitting in the locker room for a post-training meeting, my elbows rest on my knees while I listen to the coach. My limbs are heavy like I’m weighted down with lead. Not the best idea to surf at the crack of dawn, but when I couldn’t sleep after thinking about Macy, I needed to do something. I ran extra laps before training to distract myself, knowing tonight could make or break us.

  “What were you thinking out there, Burton?”

  My head snaps up, and I look the coach in the eyes.

  He shoves a finger in my direction. “If you keep playing at this level, you’ll be lucky to make the team. There are plenty of fresh legs waiting to take your spot the minute you fuck up, and after today, they’ll get their chance sooner than we all expect.” He takes a breath, brows draw tight. “Pull your head in.”

  I give him a curt nod.

  When he finishes his rant to every player as I wasn’t the only one to train like crap, I make my way to the shower, then get changed.

  “You meeting us at Lombardi’s?” Hunter asks.

  “Not today, so don’t wait for me.”

  Hunter frowns, and I wait for what he’s going to say next. “And you’re having a quiet one tonight?”

  “Yep.”

  He nods. Yeah, he’s worked me out. “So, I’ll see you…”

  “Tomorrow.
Beach recovery session. Don’t get smashed tonight.”

  He chuckles and walks away.

  Tossing my towel and sweaty training gear in my bag, I’m surprised when the coach takes a seat beside me.

  “I know player contracts are discussed with managers and club directors, but you and I need a quiet word. I want to know where your head is at. We’re aware you’ll be out of contract come the end of the season, and we’ve all heard the whispers you hope to be traded to a Melbourne team, but I’m not going to have you waste my time, and the team’s, if you don’t want to be here now. It’s going to be a long season, gruelling, and I intend to up the intensity. Every spot is up for grabs. You may be the best wingman going around, but if you’re not performing, I won’t hesitate to give one of our recruits a chance to prove himself, especially if the club is not your number one priority. Your choice. So, whatever is distracting you at the moment, get over it.” He stands and leaves me alone on the bench.

  I am the last one remaining.

  It’s so damn quiet I can hear the sound of air leaving my tight chest with each expiration.

  My distractions help me to stay focused. Otherwise, I’ll be thinking about my problems.

  So how do I get over what I love?

  Change of plans.

  Meet me at the dog park off South Terrace in the parklands at 3pm.

  What is she up to?

  I toss my phone aside as I finish changing into a button shirt suitable for a dinner date because there’s no way I’m staying at her house.

  After finding a carpark near the parklands, I make my way across the grass to where thirty or more dogs run and bark with the freedom of being off a leash. I enter the gates with another couple battling a German Shepherd and an oversized mountain dog. I glance over to the yapping Chihuahua and want to yell, run.

  Beyond the dogs, big and small, and owners chatting with other owners, I search for Macy. She sits on a bench, her long, dark hair is blowing around her face, and she’s smiling as though she’s enjoying my bewilderment. She’s wearing a blue maxi dress and flip-flops—simple and stunning. Admittedly, she could wear any old thing, and in my eyes, still look like a million dollars.

  I make my way to her. “Macy.” I take a seat beside her. “Why here?”

  Her eyes light up with her smile. “I love sitting at dog parks and watching the owners interact with their pets. With freedom, they never do as instructed. I find it refreshing.”

  A middle-aged guy throws a ball and points to the kelpie to fetch it. The dog takes off and runs off-course over to a border collie chasing another ball. I quietly chuckle. “I see what you mean.”

  “You’re not really dressed for it, though.” She glances down to my shirt and leather enclosed dress shoes. “Don’t cuddle anything in your white shirt.”

  “I have no intention of cuddling anything with fur.”

  “You don’t like dogs?”

  The border collie before us sprints for a ball, tongue hanging sideways flapping with each bound. “It’s not a matter of not liking dogs.”

  “So, you don’t want one? Come on, puppies are so cute.”

  “I don’t have time for one. Where are you going with this? Do you want one?”

  She smiles at me, and it’s the smile of a person who’s baiting someone. “The owners look so happy, don’t you think?”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out on having a puppy. Something to love and love me back. A bundle of joy to cuddle.” She wraps her arms around her middle, and damn, I want to put my arm around her shoulder and be the one to give her the love she deserves.

  “Fine. Which one do you want?”

  Looks like I took the bait and gave the wrong answer because she’s up off the seat and walking toward the gate. “I don’t want a puppy, Reef,” she says over her shoulder.

  Springing to my feet, I follow her. “Mace, I don’t know what’s going on here?”

  I keep up with her as we cross a busy road and take another path to the parklands on the other side. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We keep walking. She leads me into the Japanese gardens, and here she slows to meander the path past finely clipped shrubs, cascading waterfalls, and a restful Zen rockery. Further along, she leads me to another seat opposite a pond. A duck and ducklings waddle past before, one by one, plopping into the water.

  “Aren’t they cute,” she says and smiles.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want one.”

  “Neither do I,” she says in a softer voice. Macy lifts her dress so she can move her legs and face me. “It’s my point, Reef. They are cute, but I don’t want one. People with puppies look happy, and sure I love them. I doubt I’ll ever want one, though. I like to cuddle them and give them back. The owners look happy. Do I feel like I’m missing out? No.”

  It dawns on me where she’s leading the conversation. “It’s not the same.”

  “It is. I don’t even know if I want kids.”

  I run my hands down my cheeks. “I haven’t forgotten you telling me you did, besides you’re too young to make a decision as big as this when you have options.”

  “You think I’m too young? That I haven’t thought it through?”

  I let out a sigh. “I’m not telling you what you want, I’m giving you an easy way out.”

  “Do you want out?”

  My chest is so fucking tight it wants to burst. “It’s not about wanting out. It’s about a future with me. And it might be one without children, and living in a city not with your father.”

  She dips her chin, and I’m not for rubbing salt into a wound, but I need to get a point across. “You couldn’t even give me a night away from your dad.”

  “Everything’s changed. He doesn’t need me as he did, and you’ve opened my eyes. I might have been so bloody angry with you to start with because you ripped out my heart and stomped on it, but then…” she jabs her thumb toward her chest, “… I was big enough to look past the hurt.”

  “I’m trying not to hurt you. Fuck! I want you. Want you bad.” I swallow the grapefruit-sized lump in my throat. “But I’m not going to be selfish by taking away a future you’ve always wanted.”

  “I worked so hard not to be like my mother all those years ago I had convinced myself I didn’t want kids because then I’d never do to them what she did to me.”

  I take her beautiful face in my hands and kiss her. Kiss her with the love she deserves. Kiss her with the passion I’ve bottled up inside.

  In a swift movement, she has one leg over my lap and straddles me. “Reef,” she pleads. “Before you say anything else, please give me tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  REEF

  “If we’re going out for dinner, then I need to change my shoes.”

  I follow Macy home so she can leave her car, and we can take mine. She waits for me at the front door, while I remember the last time I saw her father he wasn’t rapt to meet me.

  “Is your father home?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s spending the night at Bernadette’s.” She unlocks the door and holds it open for me. “From the time he rekindled a relationship with her, it took off fast. He went from depending on me to setting me free.”

  Two words stood out for me.

  Rekindled because I wonder if she thinks it’s what we’re doing?

  And setting her free. It sounds like she doesn’t want freedom from either of us.

  I’m more a life sentence than a partner.

  I follow her down the hall to her small bedroom where she opens the cupboard. “So, what do you have in mind for dinner?” She pulls out several dresses and holds them up.

  “All look good, but you’re honestly fine in what you’re wearing. I thought you only needed to change your shoes.” Without thinking, I sit on the bed and face her. “Where would you like to eat?”

  She kicks off her flip-flops, and her gaze lowers to the bed
side table. I turn to see what has caught her attention.

  A pile of napkins.

  “Ah… our notes.” I smile.

  “I thought you considered them our love-hate letters, with a lame hashtag.”

  I chuckle, reach for one, my hand halting midway because Macy has pulled her dress over her head and tossed it on the end of the bed.

  I peer into her eyes, afraid to look anywhere else because my cock is hardening by the second. Holding my gaze, she continues to twist her arms behind her back and with a quick unclasp, frees her breasts, knowing I’ll struggle not to look.

  I swallow, hard, remaining focused on her face. Not her eyes now but her lips because it’s where I want to taste her first. She slides her panties down her glorious thighs, and I close my eyes momentarily to gain some composure. I open my eyes to Macy straddling my lap.

  “I want you to be the first guy I have in my bed.” She kisses me, and I take her face in her hands and break the kiss.

  “I want to be the only guy you have in this bed.” I crush my lips against hers and taste her. Decadent like I remember. Inhaling her minty breath, our tongues collide and tangle until heat builds inside, and I’m peeling off my shirt.

  “Allow me.” She takes over with quick fingers, and then she’s at my jeans button.

  I grab hold of her hand but hesitate. “So, we’re doing this?”

  “We’re doing this,” she says hoarsely. “I assume you’re still clean.”

  I flip her on her back, step out of my jeans, and hover over her. “I’ve never looked at another girl since you. Never wanted another girl since meeting you.”

  With a deftness of which we are acquainted, I’m inside her and making love to every inch of her body, feeding greedily on her passion while giving all I have to give in return.

  Her moans build, enticing me to drive my cock deeper, filling every inch until she loses control, and her eyes glaze over. I dip my head and kiss her lips. Ride her to another orgasm, and the moment my name sounds from her lips, I come with force, collapsing on her curves.