Doug rushed to get her drink.
“You just have to know the right people,” I joked, winking at her. She stared back at me nonplussed.
“Uh. I’m Lucas Bradley—”
“I know who you are. We’ve met already,” she replied dryly, turning away from me.
“I remember,” I said smoothly.
Morgan raised her eyebrow but otherwise didn’t respond. Nor did she look at me. What was this woman’s problem?
Okay so the suave playboy act wasn’t cutting it. I guess it was time to put the douche moves to a rest. “Actually, I’m glad I got to see you again. I wanted to thank you for your help on Friday.”
“Sure. You’re welcome. No problem.” She didn’t smile. Hell, she wasn’t even trying to be pleasant. “Though I suppose no good deed goes unpunished right?”
“Pardon?” I frowned.
“Never mind.” She smiled when Doug finally brought her drink. And it was a pretty smile. And it wasn’t for me. “Thank you so much.” She pulled out her wallet to pay but Adam stopped her.
“If you’re with Lucas, you don’t need to pay,” he told her.
Morgan finally looked my way and I smiled again. It had to do the trick eventually.
Apparently not.
She shook her head. “I’m not with Lucas. I’d like to pay for my drink, please.”
Doug seemed flustered. “Oh. Okay. Then it’s two pound thirty.” He glanced at me and I shrugged as if to say “women.”
She handed him a fiver. “Keep the change,” she said. She started to walk away.
Really?
That was it?
Was she really giving me the cold shoulder?
Fine. If that’s how she was going to be, I didn’t need the hassle.
“Hey, hang on a second,” I called out, following her.
Morgan glanced over her shoulder and I swore she rolled her eyes. “I’m with some co-workers. I need to get back to our table.” She looked towards a group of office lackeys who were watching our exchange with considerable interest. I waved at them and their collective mouths dropped open in shock.
“I really did want to thank you. Alan said you called the cab and helped him deal with my wankered arse. I appreciate it. Particularly since I’m pretty sure I ruined a perfectly good moment we were having by throwing up everywhere.” I really wasn’t trying to be a prat, but it seemed I was doing such a great job at it.
“Look, I was drunk. You were drunk. Stuff happened. I wasn’t going to leave you passed out in the bathroom. I only did what anyone else would have done.” Morgan appeared uncomfortable. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip. I tried not to stare at her mouth. Because it was a nice mouth.
“I don’t know, I think most people would be quick to take a picture or film me in that situation,” I laughed, trying to get some sort of reaction out of her other than annoyance and mild disdain. She appeared to be a very serious lady. I didn’t remember her being like that on Friday.
Though my memory was questionable.
“Right, because you’re some famous sports guy,” she said with a note of condescension. Clearly my being a football player didn’t matter to her. It irritated me.
But I kind of liked it too.
It had been a long time since I had been anything other than Lucas Bradley, stud striker.
“How about I give you some tickets to the season opener this weekend? As a thank you,” I suggested.
Morgan frowned. “Season opener? What’s that?”
“It’s our first match of the season and it happens to be at home. I can leave you some tickets at the box office. Bring a friend. They’ll be good seats, I promise.”
“Why would I go to your soccer game?”
I liked how she said soccer, elongating the o. Her accent was sexy as hell. Even if she was a bit on the prickly side.
“I just want to show my gratitude. You helped me out of a tough spot. I want you to know that I appreciate that.” Why was this so fucking hard? Why the hell was I trying at all when it was obvious she didn’t want anything to do with me?
Because I loved a challenge.
I was an immature shit like that.
“So inviting me to watch you run around a field is your way of saying thank you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Damn, she was a ball breaker.
I dug it.
“I can always send flowers and chocolates too, but I thought since most people would sell their left nut to get tickets to the match on Saturday, I figured it was as good as anything.” I grinned.
“Well I don’t have a left nut to sell,” she pointed out.
I leaned forward, looking at her lips, which were full and plump and slightly parted. Her breath came a little quicker. Her pupils dilated and I could bet her pulse was starting to race. Just like mine.
I turned her on.
I was in business.
“I’m very aware you don’t have a left nut. I remember very clearly what’s between your legs, love,” I whispered, my voice husky. Fuck me, I was starting to get a hard on.
Morgan’s cheeks flamed red, her breathing shallow.
“Come to the match. I can promise you I’ll put on a hell of a show.” I was laying it on thick. I enjoyed messing with her. She was getting flustered and trying not to let on that she was.
“Maybe. I have a busy weekend.” She glanced over my shoulder. Anywhere but at me. Because she was getting hot. I could practically smell the pheromones.
“How about this, I’ll leave the tickets at the box office under your name. Morgan Carter.” I said her name slowly. Deliberately. “I hope you come.” I lingered on the word come. My eyes meeting hers.
She swallowed. Cleared her throat. Licked her lips.
“Okay,” she said softly.
I smiled.
She turned on her heel and walked back to the table where her co-workers were watching us.
Had she really just walked away from me?
That was it?
Hell no.
I followed her. Fuck if I’d let her turn her back on me. I was used to calling the shots in all things.
Everyone’s eyes widened as I approached and of course Morgan looked anywhere but at me.
“So you’re Morgan’s friends?” I asked the table at large.
No one said anything for a beat.
“Uh, we work together,” a portly man with a receding hairline said, his eyes bugging out of his round face.
“Well, any friend of Morgan’s is a friend of mine. Next round is on me.”
“Thanks, mate, that’s nice of you,” a thin fellow wearing a bright yellow shirt said. I noted how he sat close to Morgan. Almost touching her. The man met my eyes, his expression a mixture of awe and wariness.
Were he and Morgan dating? Was that why she was giving me the brush off?
She inched away from the guy in the yellow shirt. Enough to make it obvious she didn’t want to be sitting that close to him. No, definitely not together.
I grinned.
“You going to introduce me to your friends, Morgan?” I asked her. She fidgeted in her seat, smoothing a napkin between her fingers and not looking at me again.
Her cheeks were still red.
“I’m Charlie. This is Mark and Andrew. That’s Hayley. And this is Phil.” Charlie indicated yellow shirt guy last.
Phil stretched an arm along the back of the booth, brushing against Morgan’s shoulders. It was a purposefully territorial move. He smiled at me. I smiled back. And not nicely.
Stupid fucker was trying to play big dig with me of all people.
“So you and Morgan are friends?” the woman named Hayley asked, glancing from Morgan to me and back again.
“Sure we are. The best of,” I teased, hoping for a reaction from Morgan.
I got one.
She rolled her eyes and snorted inelegantly. “Yep, we’re total besties. We’ll be making each other friendship bracelets soon.”
“Blue is my favorite color, just so you know,” I added. Morgan finally looked at me and we both chuckled.
It had the makings of a nice moment.
“Did you want to order anything to eat, Morgan? I can get you something,” Phil interjected, his fingers brushing against her sleeve. She looked away. Her attention on the knob in yellow.
I clenched my fists.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
I stood there like a complete muppet for a few more seconds. Morgan wasn’t looking at me anymore and Phil the wanker was trying like hell to lay a claim. I thought about pulling him out of the booth but figured I’d had enough bad press for the time being. The rest of the table was trying to make conversation with me but I wasn’t interested in talking to them.
The person I was interested in was ignoring me.
“I’d better get going,” I said, cutting off one of the guys who were talking about football stats.
Morgan was sipping on her drink, lifted a hand in a halfhearted wave. “See ya.”
My pride had taken enough of a hit for one day so I walked off, not bothering to say goodbye.
I was in a foul mood when I returned to the table. Anna of course picked up on it immediately.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, finishing the rest of my beer and slamming the empty pint glass onto the table.
Anna looked towards Morgan’s table. “Who is that?”
“No one,” I answered.
“Didn’t look like no one with the way you were following her all over the pub,” Anna commented.
“Shut up, Anna. Seriously, just drop it,” I warned her.
Anna shrugged. “Fine. Consider it dropped.” She ate the last of her chips while watching me closely. “She’s very pretty though. Not in your usual fake tits kind of way either.”
I grunted, not bothering to respond.
I PULLED MY keys out my pocket and jingled them in my hand as I waited for my sister who had predictably needed to use the loo before we left. Her bladder was like clockwork. And usually inconvenient.
I noticed Morgan standing just past the front door, staring down at her phone.
I thought about ignoring her. Forgetting all about her. I should get in my car and head home, putting the rude American in my rearview. My pride was still smarting from her dismissal earlier.
But I was never one to listen to good sense.
“You waiting for someone?” I called out.
She looked up, frowning. “Just trying to get an Uber. But the app isn’t working. Or I don’t have data or something.” She sighed, tapping on her screen with force.
“I don’t think beating the shit out of it will make it work,” I joked.
“You’re a funny guy. Has anyone ever told you that?” she countered, clearly not amused.
I walked over and took her phone from her hands.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“I’ll take you home,” I offered.
Morgan scowled, holding her hand out. “I can order a damn cab.”
“And I can take you home.” I tucked her phone in my pocket.
“You’re being awfully highhanded considering we don’t even know each other.”
“But we’re old friends. The best of, remember?” I reminded her with a chuckle.
“Are you ready?” Anna appeared, looking impatient.
“We’re going to give Morgan here a lift home,” I told her.
“It’s not necessary—”
“But it is,” I interrupted her.
“You have a serious problem with letting people finish their sentences,” she spat out and Anna started laughing.
“The pretty American girl has got you pegged,” Anna chortled. “I’m Anna, Lucas’ much smarter, much better looking sister.” Then she looked at Morgan a little closer. “Wait a minute, this is the girl from that picture. I thought she looked familiar earlier.”
Morgan groaned. “God, has everyone seen those stupid articles?”
“Yes darling, everyone knows you shagged my brother in the toilet.” Anna made a face and I wanted to smack her.
“We did not shag in the toilet,” Morgan and I both said in unison. We glanced at each other and I gave her a small smile, which she reciprocated. Finally we were getting somewhere.
“Well whatever, but I’ve got to get home. I have hours of revising to do.” Anna was already bored.
I cupped Morgan’s elbow and turned her towards the car park. “Come on, let me drop you at home,” I said softly.
Morgan sighed. “Fine. It’s easier than listening to you nag me about it.”
Anna laughed again and I shot her a look of death.
Once we were in the car I asked Morgan for her address. Anna sat in the back, her head buried in her phone, not paying us any attention. Morgan’s place was a ten-minute drive to the other side of Chester.
“This is a nice car,” Morgan said, running her hand along the leather seats.
“Thanks, I just bought it.” The Mercedes Roadster was a splurge from my signing bonus. I fucking loved it. I had salivated over these cars since I was old enough to get wood. And now it was mine. Just because I liked to kick a ball around. Life was surreal sometimes.
“Still has that new car smell.” She crossed her legs and I couldn’t help but watch as the skirt slid up her thighs, exposing a good deal of skin. She had nice legs. Smooth skin. I quickly looked away; not wanting to pop a boner while my sister was at in the back seat.
“He’s a bitch about his car. So make sure you don’t leave foot prints on the mats,” Anna remarked.
“I’ll be careful,” Morgan smiled.
“I’m just a bitch about it with you, Anna.” I looked at my sister in the rearview mirror and she flipped me off.
A few minutes later I pulled up in front of a building that clearly used to be council run. Complete with dirty brick and scrawny bushes by the door. Chester was a rather affluent city but it still had its ugly parts. And Morgan lived in the ugly part.
I saw Anna peer out the window, her face registering a kind of horror. We had grown up in a place similar to this. We weren’t snobs but we had come to enjoy a certain type of lifestyle.
Morgan seemed a little embarrassed when she noted how Anna was staring at the building. “I had no idea renting an apartment in England would be so expensive. Compared to America that is,” she remarked uneasily.
“It’s fine—” I started to say but Morgan started laughing. I glanced at her in surprise.
“It’s a shit hole. It’s cool. You can say that. I’m pretty sure I should be charging rent to the rat that lives in the kitchen cabinet,” she joked.
I snorted. “You should have seen the place Anna and I lived in when we were kids. It makes this look like Buckingham Palace.”
“And here I thought a big star like you had always lived the high life.” Morgan was grinning now. It changed the look of her face. She was pretty. Better than pretty. She was hot as fuck. She was the whole package. Nice face. Good sized tits, ass that was high and firm, and legs that went on for days.
I had wondered the morning after our encounter whether she was better looking in my memory because of how pissed I had been. It wouldn’t have been the first time I had hooked up with a woman only to realize in the sober light of day how wrong my judgment had been.
That wasn’t the case with Morgan. I was attracted to her. And I wanted to taste her again when I didn’t feel the need to throw up.
Anna chuckled in the backseat. “Sure, the highlife.”
“Well thank you for driving me home. Though I could have called a cab.” Morgan opened up the door but hesitated. “Thank you, Lucas. Nice to meet you, Anna.”
“I’m going to walk her to her door. I’ll be right back,” I told my sister, who looked shocked.
“You’re doing what?” she asked, confused. I glared at her and gave her look that clearly meant to shut the hell up. Before getting out
of the car I took out Morgan’s phone and called mine.
“What are you doing?” Anna asked, leaning over the seat. I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Did you just call yourself from her phone? What are you, fourteen?” Anna laughed.
“Seriously, just shut up, Anna,” I snapped. Morgan hadn’t waited for me and was already walking up the path to the front door.
Anna shook her head, seeming amused. “You’d better hurry up. I don’t think she’s going to stick around and wait for the super famous Lucas Bradley to say goodbye.”
“Damn it,” I growled under my breath.
“She’s my kind of woman,” Anna called out as I closed the door.
I all but ran to the front door. “Hold on, Morgan, I’ll walk you up,” I called out.
Morgan’s shoulders stiffened. “That’s not necessary, Lucas.”
I watched as she unlocked the front door. I held it open for her but she didn’t move past me. “I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to,” I teased. She went rigid.
“I’m not sure what you’re doing, but this isn’t funny,” Morgan snapped, her eyes flashing. She had gone from affable to angry in point two seconds.
I was taken aback by her venom. What the hell was her problem? I seemed to be asking myself that question a lot.
“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m just—”
“You’re just feeding me the same old tired lines that you’ve probably dished out to a dozen other women. It’s sad.” She gave me a look of disgust.
My temper started to flare. I didn’t take criticism well. Not from my coach. Not from my teammates. Not from some woman I didn’t know at all.
“You don’t know shit about me, love. So don’t go making assumptions,” I said softly, in a tone most would recognize as their cue to back off.
Several people walked by, most of them pausing when they saw me. I noticed a woman get out her phone. I took a hold of Morgan’s arm, opened the door to her building and pulled her inside.
“Excuse me, let go.” She yanked her arm out of my grasp.
“Do you want to have your face plastered all over the gossip sites again?” I hissed. I pointed to the woman stood outside, still holding her phone up. I moved out of view.
“God, is this how it is for you all the time?” Morgan asked, sounding aghast.
The Beautiful Game (Man of the Match Book 1) Page 9
