“Then I’ll get the kid a signed photograph, but make sure she wins.”
Freddie/Basil nodded and then danced away, off to entertain the crowd again.
“What were you talking to the bird about?” Alan asking, his face already red from the heat.
“Nothing. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just focus on the game.” I kicked him the ball.
And I made a point to put Morgan out of my mind. I had to.
I had a game to win.
“I’M SURE YOU enjoyed having your ball sack licked like that,” Rhys Hughes, our first team winger joked as we left the pressroom.
“Fuck off,” I laughed. “They were blowing smoke up all our arses. Don’t play like it was just me.”
“So modest,” Nolan sneered.
“Sod off, Frenchie,” I shot back.
“Why don’t you all come back to mine? We can knock a few back, have some nosh, it’ll be great,” Craig suggested.
Nolan, Alan, and a few of the other guys agreed.
“Lucas?” Craig asked.
“I think I’m going to have other plans,” I told him, thinking of Morgan. She’d be there. I knew it. I could tell she wanted to. She just had it in her head she had to play hard to get. Some women were like that. Made them feel better when they finally did exactly what we both wanted.
She was right I didn’t know her.
But I didn’t need to know her to know that I wanted her.
She was fit.
And she had a mouth on her that wouldn’t stop.
I liked it.
I liked how she didn’t give in so easily.
Made it all the more interesting.
What I didn’t fucking like was the git she brought with her today.
I wasn’t going to take that one very well.
So I told her to get rid of him.
And she would.
Because she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I knew these things.
I knew when I made a woman wet. And she was practically dripping for me.
“Bradley, I thought we talked about this. You said things were cool with you and Marla,” Craig said, looking disappointed. Sometimes dealing with Craig was like dealing with a little kid. I noticed Alan and Nolan smirking. They knew all too well how “cool” Marla was with me. They just didn’t know the full history, nor would they ever.
“It has nothing to do with Marla,” I told him, clasping his shoulder. Poor idiot.
“Was that Morgan I saw earlier? How the hell did she get into the dressing room?” Alan asked.
“Morgan? Who’s Morgan?” Nolan asked. Why hadn’t he left yet? I sure as hell didn’t want to talk about Morgan in front of him.
“The fit bird with the dark hair. Didn’t you see her?” Alan asked him.
“I must have missed her. That’s a shame,” Nolan said.
“I just have stuff to do.” I wasn’t talking about this with them. They were worse than a bunch of primary school kids.
“Or people to do,” Alan leered.
I grabbed my bag from the dressing room and headed towards the exit. “I’ll talk to you dumbasses later.”
I pushed through the door, a smile on my face. My heart started beating in triple time. My palms were actually sweating.
I was excited to see her.
The late afternoon sun blinded me for a moment. I shielded my eyes and looked around for the woman I was expecting.
And she wasn’t there.
My stomach dropped and I felt encroaching disappointment.
Fucking hell, Morgan hadn’t waited.
I stood in the middle of the car park, looking around as though she may be hiding behind the bloody hedgerow.
I gritted my teeth and thought about hitting something.
Or someone.
Morgan hadn’t come.
Which meant she most likely had gone home with Phil the loser.
I clenched my fists at the thought. Why did it bother me so badly? So what if she went home with the nob? I barely knew the woman.
But it did bother me.
It bothered me a lot.
“If looks could kill,” a voice purred behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder and did all I could to suppress my groan.
“Hi, Marla,” I mumbled, only because I knew that if I didn’t acknowledge her she’d do something drastic to get my attention.
Craig’s wife came up beside me, standing uncomfortably close. Her perfume was strong and I tried not to cough. She smelled as though she had bathed in it.
“Who are you waiting for?” she asked, looping her arm with mine. I stiffened, not liking her touching me.
“No one really,” I answered dismissively. I looked towards the dressing room door. “Where’s Craig?”
Marla shrugged, her fingernails scrapping against my arm in a way that made my skin crawl. “He’ll be along. Did he tell you about the get together at ours later?”
“Yeah, he did.” I found myself still looking for Morgan hoping she might yet show up. Did that make me pathetic?
Quite possibly.
Marla glanced around as well, obviously wondering what I was looking for. “I hope you come by. It’s been too long since you’ve been over.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. Fake and dishonest. Just like her marriage to Craig.
“I don’t know.” Damn Morgan. Why hadn’t she waited?
I had her number in my phone, maybe I should call her?
Dear god, why was I even contemplating it?
I didn’t call women.
I didn’t agonize over whether I saw them or not.
But here I was doing just that.
Fucking, bloody hell.
“Lucas, did you hear me?” Marla sounded put out, her mouth pursed in a pout.
“What?” I blinked, wishing she’d go away already.
“You’re waiting for someone. I can tell. Is it that woman I saw you talking to earlier?” Marla asked with an edge to her tone.
“What’s it to you?” I asked coldly, finally looking at the beautiful woman beside me. She was a perfect example of how people’s insides weren’t always reflected on the outside. Because she was gorgeous. A lovely serpent waiting to sink her fangs into you.
“She’s didn’t seem like anything special. I wouldn’t waste your time waiting around when you have so many other options,” she added, flipping her hair behind her shoulders.
“And what are my other options, Marla?” I asked, my voice quietly lethal. She had no idea how thin the ice beneath her was.
She licked her lips. They were too plump. Obviously not natural.
“I think you know, Lucas.” She played with a piece of her hair. Wrapping it around her finger over and over again.
“Marla, I’m not sure why you think anything would happen between us—”
“Stop pretending as if something already hasn’t,” she interrupted, her breath coming fast, her eyes fevered.
“That was before, Marla. You’re with Craig. You’re married to Craig. And I’m not interested. Not in the least.” I didn’t want to be hateful, but the woman was too pushy. Too needy.
“I wouldn’t have married him, you know,” she murmured so low that I barely heard him.
“Pardon?” I asked in exasperation.
She let go of my hand, her expression changing. Going almost soft. What the actual fuck?
“If I had thought you and I…if what happened between us had led to something more, I never would have married him.” Marla looked up at me through her false eyelashes.
“Don’t say shit like that, Marla. It’s messed up.”
I was getting aggravated. And more than a little angry on Craig’s behalf.
She was referring to something that was ancient history. Something I refused to think about. Something that would never be repeated.
I had always been an arsehole. But I was less of an arsehole now than I was a couple of years ago. The woman in front of me was a testament to the
bell end I used to be.
The truth was we had fucked.
One drunken night just after I had signed on with Chester we had found ourselves alone. She and Craig weren’t married yet. They were only dating, but they were still together. The truth was I hadn’t given a toss. She was fit. I was drunk. So we screwed. It was a descent enough shag. Nothing to write home about, but I got my rocks off and I was pretty sure she had enjoyed herself.
After it was all over, I wished I could take it back. I felt like a complete shit. Craig was my teammate and Marla was his woman. I had walked over that unspoken line. I made it clear that it was a mistake. Marla agreed. Or so I had thought.
She married Craig, I moved on to my next screw. That was that.
But obviously to Marla it was more than that.
I thought her endless flirting was just her being a tease. It was common knowledge I wasn’t the only man she had been with since being with Craig. Even though I knew she wanted a return trip on the cockwagon, I didn’t think she was all that serious.
Maybe I was wrong.
Marla’s face clouded over and she stood up straight, her shoulders back, pushing her enormous tits out.
“It’s not messed up. It’s the truth. You know it as well as I do.” Marla made a move to touch me again but I evaded her.
The door to the dressing room opened behind her and I waved to the person who came out.
“Hiya, Craig. Your wife was out here bitching about how long you were taking,” I called out.
Marla’s expression registered shock at the appearance of her husband, but she recovered quickly. She turned on her heel and launched herself into her husband’s arms. They kissed like they were rehearsing for their own private porno. You’d never know that thirty seconds before she had been telling me how much she wanted me.
I cleared my throat and Craig broke the lip lock.
“You sure you don’t want to come by later, mate? It would mean a lot,” Craig asked, wiping bright red lipstick off his chin.
“Come on, we don’t bite,” Marla cajoled. It was as though she were goading me. I looked around one last time. Looking for Morgan.
But she had definitely stood me up.
Fuck her.
“Yeah, mate. I’ll come for a bit.”
Craig grinned and Marla gave me a smile that was too sexy for my liking. “That’s great,” my teammate enthused.
Sure. Just great.
“CAN I GET you a beer?” Marla asked once I had arrived at their house a few hours later.
“Sure. Sounds great,” I replied, wishing I had gone anywhere else but here.
The house was full of the familiar faces. Most of the guys on the team were there as well as a bunch of Marla’s friends, most of which had slept with at least one of the footballers in the room.
I saw one or two I had shagged, usually when drunk. Then there was Marla.
“Head on outside, Craig’s out there with a bunch of the others.”
“Yeah, okay—”
Marla curled her hand around my wrist. Her nails were bright red and long. They looked like talons. Her fingers were heavy with rings, including the three carrot diamond engagement ring that cost more than most cars.
“I’m glad you decided to come tonight. It means a lot.” I kept my expression purposefully neutral.
“I’m here to hang out with Craig,” I said pointedly. After everything she said this afternoon, I felt it important to make that abundantly clear.
She was already standing too close for my comfort. I couldn’t stand her. Everyone knew she slept with anything that moved. And she panted after my cock like a bitch in heat. Craig deserved better.
It was a shame she was so good looking.
Tonight her red hair was pulled back away from her face. Her makeup was minimal, her tan perfect. She wore a tight fitting dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I could see her nipples through the material.
My dick twitched. Just for a moment. I was a man after all. And I remembered all too well what her body looked like naked. Marla Denham was fine; there was no denying it.
But she was a slag. And worse than that, she was my friend’s wife.
And I would never be going down that particular road again.
“I’d better go find Craig.” I pulled away from her and walked towards the back of the house.
This was a bad idea.
If I hadn’t been so angry about Morgan standing me up…
Morgan.
What was that about? I had thought I read her right. That she was interested in what I was offering.
Oh well, her loss. There were other tits in the sea.
I would forget about her. Like I had done with most every other woman I had experienced a drunken encounter with.
No big deal.
“Lucas, how are you?” A girl with platinum blond hair and wearing only a skimpy bathing suit saddled up to my side, giving me a hug, which I returned half-heartedly.
“I’m good. How are you—sorry I don’t remember your name.”
The girl’s smile dropped instantly. “I’m Amy. From the party at Nick’s? Remember?”
Nick Dodd had a huge party to celebrate the end of the season in June. I had gotten pretty sloppy. I remember throwing up in a potted plant. I did not, however, remember the girl beside me.
“Sure. Of course.” I could add liar behind drunk and cad in the list of adjectives used to describe me.
She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and pushed her boobs out. I could see almost everything she had to offer. There wasn’t a lot covering her skin. “I could never forget you,” she giggled.
Clearly I had fucked her.
Glad it was memorable for one of us.
First Marla, now this chick. I was no better than the worst of the slags. I was beginning to have a case of serious regret.
“I’ve got to go find the lads—”
“I’ll come with you,” she replied eagerly, linking her arm with mine and pressing into my side.
This was why I hated coming to Craig’s house. Too many goal diggers. The girls who waited around for a footballer to notice her. They were clingy. And desperate. Some guys got off on that, but I wasn’t one of them. It was a complete turn off.
I walked with Amy out to the patio. The back garden was heaving. It looked as if Craig had invited half the city.
Craig’s house was huge and sat on a massive plot of land that led down to the river. The house itself was completely over the top. Marla had decorated it in the tacky style of someone who came from nothing but now had more money than they knew what to do with.
I found Craig at the barbeque flipping steaks. Alan and Shane were drinking beer, laid out on loungers nearby. The rest of the guys on the team were hanging around, drinking and eating food from the long buffet table that had been put out.
“Why don’t you go get a drink,” I told Amy, giving her a gentle shove in the direction of the outdoor bar.
“Oh. Okay. Do you want anything? You have a beer, but I could get you something else,” the girl simpered.
“No. I’m fine. Go.” I was being a bit harsh, but I wasn’t in the mood for whatever she was proposing. I saw Martin Stone and called him over. The kid came running when he saw me.
“Lucas! Hey!”
“Mate, can you go with—?” Shit I forgot her name again.
“Amy,” she reminded me, not pleased I had forgotten again.
“Right. Amy. Martin, can you go with Amy and help her get a drink.”
Martin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he took in Amy with her barely there swimsuit and legs that went on for miles. “Yeah, okay.”
Amy, realizing the kid was a better bet than me, latched on. She sunk her claws in. At least the boy would have a good night.
“Have fun you two,” I said.
I fell onto a lounger next to Alan and covered my eyes with my arm. “Giving the kid your sloppy seconds. Nice, Bradley,” Alan laughed.
“I do
n’t remember that girl at all. Do you know her?” I asked.
“She’s Marla’s friend. From what I’ve been told you were the best she ever had, Bradley,” Craig said, flipping the steaks.
“The best she’s ever had, Lucas, and you don’t remember her. For shame,” Alan joked, clutching his chest as if in pain.
I flipped him off.
“It wouldn’t be the first woman he forgot. She won’t be last either,” Shane ribbed.
“You guys make it out like I’m some sort of dog,” I complained. Though they were right.
“Did my eyes deceive me or did our pretty friend from Friday night turn up in the dressing room today?” Alan sat up and reached for a beer from the cooler. He tossed one to me and I barely caught it.
“Yeah, that was her,” I told him. No sense denying it.
“What was she doing there?”
“Aren’t you a nosy parker?” I took a drink and wiped my mouth. “She won that contest at halftime. No big deal.”
Alan raised his eyebrows. “What a strange coincidence.”
I looked at him levelly. “Isn’t it?”
“Who’s the girl from Friday night? What are you talking about?” Craig put a steak on a plate and handed it to me.
I cut into my steak and took a bite. The man could seriously cook some meat. “It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t you see the picture of Lucas and me leaving the pub with the girl? It was all over the gossip sites,” Alan filled in. I would have to punch him later. Hard.
“Marla showed it to me, I think. So that’s the girl? Another goal digger then?” Craig sat down beside me and started to eat his own food.
“She’s definitely not a goal digger,” I muttered, my mouth full.
“She’s a yank. Had no idea who our boy even was,” Alan went on.
Craig and Shane laughed, clearly enjoying that piece of information.
“That’s got to be a new one for you, Luke. A female that doesn’t drop her knickers when you enter the room,” Shane chortled.
I balled up my napkin and threw it at him. “Laugh away, jackass, I’m not the one that got crabs from dipping my wick without a jimmy hat on.”
Alan and Craig howled as Shane glared at me. “That was last year. Why do you have to keep bringing it up?”
“Why do you have to keep being a right git?” I shot back.
The Beautiful Game (Man of the Match Book 1) Page 13
