“Kate.” He grabs me, lifting me off my feet and into his arms. “You alright, angel?”
Through the salty flood of tears, I smile. I no longer need to prove anything to myself. After our talk the other day, all of my self-doubt is gone. It only took seven years and two continents for us to be honest with each other.
Dax tenderly brushes my hair back from my face and gives me one of the hottest, sexiest, toe-curling kisses I’ve ever had in my life.
The arena erupts in whistles and cheers, the fans going mental. Dax points up to the massive electronic screen where I spot us, ten meters tall, on display for everyone to see. We look…well, we look happy. I’m grinning from ear to ear cradled against Dax’s chest, my bandaged leg dangling over one of his thick arms. Dax pulls his attention from the screen back to me, whispering in my ear, “I love you,” before snogging me good and proper to the delight of everyone at Millennium Stadium.
“I think I’m ready to go home now,” I tell him.
“Home?”
“With you.”
Grinning like fools, Dax carries me off the pitch to begin our life together.
EPILOGUE
Dax
Two years later.
“Dax!”
I turn to see Adam rushing to catch me as I walk into the New York studio where we’ve been recording our latest album. It’s a soundtrack for some movie I’ve never heard of. Interestingly, it’s our first time doing a soundtrack, which is odd seeing as we’ve been around a while.
“Dax, you won’t believe what happened last night.” Adam is panting from running through the building, presumably to locate me.
“What happened?”
His eyes dart around, looking for what, I have no idea. Adam grabs my arm and pulls me into the nearby men’s room. He checks to make sure it’s empty before calming down enough to speak.
“Is all this subterfuge really necessary?” I ask, rolling my eyes at his dramatics.
“Yes,” he hisses. “I just got a call from London.”
My mind goes a million different ways at once, mostly bad, mostly involving his fucked up family. Did his dad die? His mum? His bastard of a brother?
“It was from a girl named Gemma. Gemma Spencer.”
“So you ran after me to tell me that your number got leaked to a fan site again?” I ask irritably. “I have plans tonight, Adam. We need to start recording so I’m not stuck here late again.”
He huffs impatiently. “No, not a fan site. Shut your gob and listen.” I scowl at Adam, crossing my arms over my chest, waiting for him to continue. “This girl, Gemma, she says she works with Ellie!”
Ellie? I’m gob smacked. Never in a million years did I think he wanted to talk about Ellie.
“What about Ellie?”
“She claims to be Ellie’s best mate.” Adam is positively beaming with excitement. I haven’t seen him this alive since…well, since Ellie.
“Adam, she could be some nutter trying to trick you,” I say cautiously, not wanting to destroy the first sliver of happiness he’s experienced in ten years. Yet he’s my best mate. I don’t want him to get his hopes up if it’s just some cruel prank.
“No,” he grabs my arm. “She knew things. Things only Ellie could have told her. She said Ellie’s been trying to contact me, through email, through the record label, even through regular post. I’ve never heard a word about it.” Adam’s face becomes stormy, his eyes narrow in anger.
“They probably thought she was lying. Loads of people probably ring up the label and claim to be our friends.”
“Right, well… this is the real deal. I’m going to London.”
“What?” He could have knocked me over with a feather. “You’re going to London based on the word of a random girl who rung you up?”
“No. I’m going because she’s not lying, I know it. Ellie’s mum is getting married. I’m crashing the party.”
I laugh, doubling over with the hilarity of it all until I realize he’s not kidding. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. I’m going and getting my girl, just like you did.”
I’m speechless. Kate and I eloped right after the closing ceremonies of the Olympics. We didn’t think there was any point in waiting after all those years apart. I wonder if Adam will come back married to Ellie.
“Oh, and I need to bring Zane with me. Can I borrow him?”
I sigh, my reminiscing coming to an abrupt halt. “Yeah, sure. What are best mates for?”
Indeed.
We have our best session in years, mostly due to Adam’s upbeat attitude. He’s so spot on we finish thirty minutes early for a change.
I hurry out, jumping on my brand new Ducati, zipping out of the car park. I speed through the streets, weaving around cars and take the Holland Tunnel to the Jersey Turnpike. Thank god for the bike, otherwise I’d still be sitting in stagnant traffic back in Manhattan.
An hour later, okay, so I broke the limit a few times, I pull into the lot at Jesse Owens Memorial Stadium on the campus of Rutgers University. I kick down the stand and lean the Ducati to rest. Heading toward the entrance with my helmet tucked under my arm, more than a few heads turn my way.
Most of them know me by now and pay me no mind, but there are always girls who get excited by my appearance.
“Dax Davies, wow!”
“We heard you came by, but I can’t believe you’re really here!”
I pose for a few selfies with the students and excuse myself. “I have to go, ladies. Don’t want to miss the start.”
They giggle and huddle together whispering like girls tend to do. I wave at Andre, one of the regular security guards at the stadium.
“I got your bike covered man,” he says as we shake hands.
The first time I brought the Ducati, students climbed all over my unattended bike, snapping pictures and messing around with it. It fell over and had quite a bit of damage. After that, I made sure to park close to the entrance and have someone watch over it. The guards here know me and never mind keeping an eye out.
“Thanks mate.”
I find my usual seat and relax. It’s a perfect evening for a game, unseasonably warm for late September in New Jersey. Kate spots me and smiles. The stadium is still filling up, so she takes a minute and walks over to my section. My seat is in the front row, just off the pitch. There are perks to being married to the head coach.
“Hi angel.” I lean over and give her a kiss, just a small one since she’s at work. Nowhere near the sloppy, wet, tongue kiss I want to lie on her.
“Dax. You made it in time tonight.” She winks. Kate knows that I’ve been frustrated with all of the late recording sessions that have made me miss more than one of her games.
“Yeah, well, Adam was in a good mood today. We got done early if you can believe that.” I’ll tell her about Ellie later. No need to distract her before a game.
We ignore the whispers and pings of mobile phones as people nearby sneak pictures of us. We’re used to it by now. The fans who sit near my seat are friends and family of the staff and players. They’re used to me and treat me like a regular bloke. It’s nice to be normal.
The video of Kate and I at the Olympics went viral minutes after it happened. By the next day, most of the world had seen it, or were talking about it. It took forever for the attention to die out. No more hiding behind the front man anymore. I’m thoroughly recognizable all on my own.
I lean over the half wall. “Is your helmet still in your car?”
Kate eyes me curiously. “Yes.”
“Ride home with me.” We have a beautiful house about a half-hour north, midway between here and the city. It’s perfect for a trip on the bike.
A spark of interest flashes across her face. “Why?”
I lean in as close as I can get. “So I can feel that fit body pressed up against me while the Ducati growls between your thighs, angel. Why else?”
“Dirty, dirty, Dax.” Kate pulls back and smirks. I can tell she l
ikes the idea.
“I’ll bring you back tomorrow to fetch your car. What do you say, Mrs. Davies? Ride with me?”
Kate shifts to whisper in my ear, her hot breath causing me to shiver under my leather jacket. That raspy, sexy voice of hers sends testosterone racing through my veins. “I’ll do anything for you, Mr. Davies. Anything.”
Kate winks, then turns and trots over to her team. I watch that tight ass and sit back in my seat, loving the hell out of my life.
Fuck the rules, my way is much, much better.
STRIKE
The Rules
Family first
Never let your emotions show
No fucking, shagging, wanking, sucking, or getting off for seven days leading up to a fight. You win, you get your reward.
Women who act like slags can be treated like slags, but never disrespect a proper lady.
Defend what’s yours.
End of Book Stuff
Playlist
One Direction- Story of my life
Imagine Dragons- Radioactive
Ed Sheeran- A Team
Taylor Swift- Never Ever
JT- Mirrors
Sam Smith- Stay With me
Miley Cyrus- Wrecking Ball
The Script- The Man Who Can’t Be Moved
Many Thanks
So, so many people to thank for helping make the stories that plague my mind a reality—my betas (you gals know who you are by now), my street team-The Dirty Fangirls, all of the hardworking bloggers out there who bust their butts for their love of books, my family, my awesome friends, and everyone who reads one of my books and finds it worthwhile.
xoxo HC Leigh
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Heather C. Leigh grew up in New England and currently lives outside of Atlanta, GA with her husband and two children. She loves chocolate (not the white kind, because that’s not real chocolate), traveling, and the Boston Red Sox. When she’s not writing down the voices that live in her head, she can be found procrastinating in many interesting and creative ways.
Books
Sphere of Irony (a rock star series)
Incite — Adam
Strike — Dax
The Famous Series (celebrity romance)
Relatively Famous
Absolutely Famous
Extremely Famous
Already Famous
Suddenly Famous (a novella)
Reluctantly Famous (a novella)
Ricochet
Locked & Loaded
Friendly Fire
Extraction Point
Strike: Dax Page 25
