Played: A Second Chance Sports Romance (Playing Games Book 2)

by Rebecca Barber

  The crowd was thinning rapidly. You’d never have guessed that less than forty minutes earlier there were sixty thousand people spilling out of the stadium. Pulling the brim of my baseball cap lower, I kept my eyes locked on my phone, the perfect disguise, and followed the scent of sugar.

  “Where’s mine?” I asked as I sat on the garden bed next to Seth whose face was covered with sugar. Taking another huge bite, he stuffed the paper bag in my hand showing me the last, lonely donut. Not wasting time, I grabbed it out and bit into it, the hot jam burning my tongue.

  After we were finished licking our fingers, I tossed the empty bag in the bin and we started walking towards the hotel. I needed to dump my stuff before we went and found some real food. I was freaking starving and one solitary donut, no matter how delicious, was not going to take the edge off. As we walked, Seth caught me up on the latest with the parentals and what’d been going on with him. He was stoked to finally have his learners permit and threatened, more than once I might add, to fly over and take my baby for a drive. Only way that was ever going to happen was over my dead body.

  “Stay here. I’ll dump this and we can go,” I instructed when we stepped into the lobby. With the pout of a child who’d just been told that marshmallows weren’t a dinner food, he sulked over and dropped down into the couch and stared at his phone. Less than five minutes later, I was back in the lobby and prying him away from the European tourists he was trying to convince he was twenty-one. We were back out on the street and headed to the pub a couple of blocks away that did the best chicken schnitzel Melbourne had to offer.

  We were halfway there before Seth asked me if I was really seeing Maddy.

  “Hell no.” I answered honestly because I didn’t have to do anything else. Best thing about family. You could say all the shit you were thinking and there was no judgement. Or there was but it was brutally honest judgement that wouldn’t be printed in tomorrow’s paper.

  “Thank fuck for that!”

  “Seth! Language!” As soon as I heard myself say it, I cringed. I sounded like Dad. Seth, being the brat he was, just laughed. When his hysterics had simmered down to a snicker, I asked, “Why’s that?”

  “Dude, she’s horrible.”

  “She looks alright.”

  “Probably the only thing she’s got going for her.”

  “True.” I hadn’t meant to say it. It just kind of slipped out but I wasn’t about to take it back. Just because it wasn’t nice, didn’t make it any less true.

  “Why’d you go out with her then?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “She’s hot?”

  “No. You think I’m that shallow?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Mum. Mum asked me to take her.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah. Ah. I couldn’t very well say no.”

  “I get it. You going to do it again? Everyone’s saying you two are the new hottest couple.”

  “Who’s saying that?”

  “Dunno. Just people. Some blog I read.”

  I was genuinely stunned. Not only did Seth pay attention to what was going on in my life, but he also read. Who knew he could even read? Reaching the pub, I pushed open the doors to loud cheers and equally as loud groans. On the big screen, a screen so wide it covered the wall, was a game that was being beamed live from Brisbane. Glancing at the score, I saw it’d only just started. Heading straight to the bar, I ordered myself a beer and Seth a soft drink before finding a table.

  After setting down our drinks, I grabbed a chair and nudged the table around until I could still see the score. I had a vested interest in the game. I hated having vested interest in other teams’ games. I preferred it when we were in control of our own destiny. All it took was a few shit games, a few too many losses or close calls against the wrong team and now we were caught mid-pack on the ladder and fighting to stay alive.

  “So, back to this blog you read. Which one is it?”

  Seth didn’t even bother to answer instead thrust his phone in my face with the article glaring back at me. I didn’t need to read it to know what it said. I already knew. This one particular pain in the arse blogger I knew well, very, very well, and had alerts set so anytime she posted, I got the instant notification.

  Grabbing my own phone, I dialled.

  “Wanker!”

  “Arsewipe!”

  “Where are you?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that, princess. Where are you?”

  “At home on the couch, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Got your cock in your hand again?” I teased.

  “Don’t need to. I’m serviced regularly. But if I read it correctly, you’ve your own little prima donna taking care of your little issue now,” he threw back with a gruff laugh.

  “Come join us for dinner?”

  “Where are you?” I rattled off the name of the pub. “Who you with?”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause I asked.”

  “Just me and Seth.”

  “Sweet. I’ll bring Tash. See you in a bit. Order me a beer.”

  Hanging up I looked over Seth’s shoulder and checked the score before turning back to him.

  “Who the hell was that?”

  “Oliver.”

  “Ah, now it makes sense.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. He tried to engage me again in the Maddy debate, but I wasn’t biting. When I accused him of being jealous, the arsehole bit back, and he bit back with venom. “You should see what Emma sent me the other night,” he remarked casually.

  That’s all it took to have my blood pressure boiling. The high hits and the cheap shots I’d taken earlier didn’t pack the same sort of wallop that Seth’s words did. And judging by the smug, smart-arse smirk on his face he knew it too.

  “I didn’t realise you were still talking to her,” I spat out, not even bothering to pretend I wasn’t pissed off. My jaw was clenched so hard I could hear myself grinding my teeth.

  Before he could reply, a bored-looking guy appeared with our dinner. The schnitzel was so big it filled most of the plate and piled underneath was a mountain of thick cut, crunchy chips. I was definitely not going home hungry.

  “Oh yum, chips,” Tash said as she flopped dramatically into the seat beside me before stealing one chip off my plate.

  “Get your own,” I grumbled, smacking her fingers.

  “Don’t touch what’s mine,” a deep voice came from behind me. A voice I’d recognise anywhere. Instead of answering him, or turning to say hi, I kept my eyes trained on the woman wearing the thick-rimmed black glasses beside me. Fuck she looked like a dirty librarian with them on. Lifting my butt from the chair I leant over and kissed her cheek, not missing the giggle that bubbled out as a reply. Before I could drop back into my seat, I was put in a headlock. Seth and Tash were laughing their arses off. I couldn’t blame them really. I’m sure we looked like complete dickheads right about now.

  “I told you not to touch,” Logan growled.

  “But she’s so pretty.” I pouted.

  “And she’s mine.”

  “Well, I don’t see a ring…” I pushed just that little bit further. If Logan could’ve killed me with laser beams shooting from his eyes, I’d be a pile of ash by now.

  Ignoring me, Logan engaged Seth in a conversation, and he was in heaven. I don’t know why Seth still hero-worshipped Logan. He’d known him long enough that surely the allure had worn off. I mean, Seth had stayed at our place when we were rooming together and seen just how normal Logan was, well except for the whole super nerd thing. He still drank milk straight from the carton, fell asleep on the couch, farted loud enough to wake the entire house and, more often than not, burnt the eggs he was attempting to cook. Logan wasn’t anything special. Unless he was on the field. Then even I had to admit, the arsehole had his days. Some of the things he could do, even had my mouth hanging open. Not that I was going to tell
him that anytime soon. Or ever.

  “Did you order?” I asked Logan as another one of my chips went missing.

  “Yeah. Shouldn’t be too long. Start though.”

  After a couple of mouthfuls, Logan and I were both staring at the big screen when our attention was demanded back at the table.

  “So, wanna tell us why we were summoned to dinner?” Tash asked. She was never one to step backwards when she could just power forward, bulldozing everything in her path.

  “We wanted the pleasure of your company?” I offered with a shrug.

  “Nice try.”

  “Hey, Tash. Wanna see something cool?” Seth asked. It seemed like Logan wasn’t the only one who Seth was fixated on. Not that I could really blame him, Tash was pretty bloody awesome.

  “What’s that?”

  Seth handed her his phone and she gasped. “What is it?” I asked.

  “Is that?”

  “Yup!” Seth confirmed proudly.

  “You better not be showing her porn, Seth,” Logan scolded. If I thought I sounded like his father, I had nothing on Logan. Geez, he sounded like he’d already enrolled in parenting classes.

  “It’s not porn!” Tash defended before turning back to Seth. “Is that Luca Conti?”

  “Yeah. How cool is that?”

  “Pretty damn cool. He’s hot!”

  “Natasha…” Logan’s jealousy should be filmed. That shit was damn funny.

  “Get over yourself, Oliver. He’s hot. I’m not sleeping in his bed tonight, am I? No. So untwist your panties and drink your mineral water,” Tash sassed with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “If you think you’re ‘sleeping’ in my bed tonight, I’ve got news for you. I can guarantee you won’t be getting your beauty sleep tonight,” Logan replied with a wink.

  “Get a room,” I mumbled, more than a little green with envy.

  “Oh, we plan on it,” Logan promised.

  “Who’s that in the photo with him? She’s really pretty. Is that your girlfriend, Seth?” Tash asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  My gut churned. I didn’t need to see the photo to know who it was in the picture or where it’d come from.

  “He wishes,” I muttered, not meaning for anyone to hear me.

  “I do wish. Emma’s awesome!”

  “Emma? The Emma?” Logan chimed in.

  “Wait, who’s Emma?” Tash wasn’t one to let anything by her. Especially not something that sounded like juicy gossip she could use against me.

  “She’s just a chick I ran into,” I shrugged it off as casually as I could. The last thing I needed was Tash and Seth to know, and to confirm what Logan thought he knew; that Emma could very well be the one who got away.

  “And brought home to meet Mum and Dad.”

  “And obsesses about daily.”

  “The one he fucked up?”

  “Wait! Hold up!” Tash declared raising her hand like a stop sign. “Fucked up how? And what about Madeline? I thought you guys were getting hot and heavy. Bryce Joseph Masters, explain yourself.”

  “Dude! She full named you!” Seth squealed, obviously delighted with the shit storm he’d stirred up.

  Stupidly, I looked at Logan in the hopes he’d save me. I should’ve known better. Arsehole was enjoying watching me squirm. Probably his dumb idea of payback which, I guess if I was being honest, I probably deserved. After all, I’d pretty much made his life a living hell while he tried to pull his head out of his arse to realise Tash was the best thing that could ever or would ever happen to him.

  “I met Emma when she was in Melbourne a handful of weeks ago. She’s an awesome chick. We had some fun.”

  “And now?” Tash was practically vibrating on the edge of her seat.

  “And now, nothing. She lives in Sydney and I live in Adelaide.”

  “But she’s messaging Seth?”

  “That’s her decision.” One I hated with every fibre of my being, but I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of hearing me say it. If they could figure it out for themselves, well that was one thing, but I didn’t have to set myself up for their mockery.

  “Wait up!” As Logan said it, I felt sick. “Don’t you play Sydney next weekend?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  EMMA

  “Get your skanky arse out of that bed, go shower and get dressed. We’re leaving in twenty minutes. And before you start bitching, you’re coming whether you want to or not.”

  “Sienna,” I whined, yanking the blanket tighter around my chest. “Just go without me. You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s cold and wet out there.”

  “Get. Off. Your. Butt. Missy,” Sienna instructed, punctuating every word while at the same time tugging at my blanket.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” I proposed.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Why don’t you sit down, take off your boots. We can order pizza and pour ourselves a glass of wine, I’ve got an awesome bottle of red in the kitchen and we can watch the game on TV if we have to. Best of both worlds. I don’t have to put on a bra and go out in the cold and you still get to watch lover boy prance around in his short shorts.” It sounded like a fucking brilliant idea if you asked me. I was a god damned genius.

  For a brief moment I thought Sienna was actually giving my suggestion the consideration it deserved, but she was just a bitch. Instead, she lulled me into a false sense of security before stealing my blanket, phone and remote in some kind of weird-arse ninja move I was slightly envious of.

  “Nice try. Now hurry up. You’re down to fifteen minutes to make yourself look beautiful.” With a swift slap on my pyjama-clad arse, she pushed me towards the bathroom. As much as I loved Sienna, she was delusional if she thought for even a second I could make myself presentable in fifteen minutes. My matted, three-day dry-shampoo-crusted hair alone would take longer than that.

  Much to Sienna’s disgust, it was forty-five minutes, half a bottle of wine and a handful of Maltesers later before we were standing on the doorstep, hiding under the awning waiting on our Uber. While I still thought this was a monumentally stupid thing to do, I knew how stubborn Sienna was when she set her mind to something. I knew when to push back and when to concede. Unfortunately, this was one of those times I had no hopes in hell of winning, so I might as well suck it up.

  By the time the car eventually arrived, my fingers were already cold, and my toes numb. I frigging hated being cold. I was the world’s biggest pussy, a fact I was well aware of when it came to the weather. Too hot, I wasn’t moving from in front of the air con. Too cold, you’d have to pry my Ugg boots off my cold, dead toes.

  Arriving at the stadium, I could barely believe my eyes. I was expecting a smaller crowd. Surely only die hard tragics would come out on a night like this. Surely people had better things to do on a Saturday night than brave the elements to watch a group of fully grown men kick a ball around an oval.

  “Why is it so busy? I don’t want to line up,” I complained as I climbed out of the car and hugged my coat tighter to my chest as a particularly forceful gust of wind ruffled my hair and left my exposed skin covered in goose pimples.

  “Quit your bitching! Geez! Come on.” Sienna grabbed my hand and led me away from the main entrance. Where the hell she was leading me, I had no idea.

  Arriving at a tiny, wire gate, one I would’ve walked past a million times and never once noticed, we stopped in front of the burly-looking security guard. “Ladies,” he greeted us gruffly.

  “Hi. We were told to come here,” Sienna replied so sickeningly sweetly I’m surprised I didn’t get a cavity.

  “Were you now?” When he stroked his greying beard, I stepped back. He sounded like an evil villain, and I was beginning to wonder if Sienna’s information hadn’t come from a weirdo driving a panel van.

  Not one to be bothered, Sienna just pushed on. “Yes. And I was told to give you these.” From her pocket she pulled out two bright red lanyards with shiny, silver tickets inside. As soon as the
scary security guy got sight of them, he dropped the attitude, unlatched the gate and waved us through, almost as if we were royalty.

  “If you ladies go through the archway, turn left at the first set of stairs and follow them up to Penny, she will show you where to go.”

  “Thanks,” Sienna replied in that sing song voice she used when she was up to no good. I was really starting to get a bad feeling about this.

  Tangling her fingers with mine, Sienna led or dragged me along the narrow walkway until we reached the stairs. Stopping at the bottom, I turned to look at the field. It was stunning really. The grass was so green, and I was so close I could see the checkerboard pattern the grounds keepers had mown into it. The stands on the other side of the field were filling up. The scent of hot chips made my stomach rumble. And standing out in the centre of the ground, completely oblivious to the rain pounding down on their heads, umpires in fluoro-yellow shirts were practising bouncing the ball high into the air.

  “You coming?” Sienna asked, snapping me out of my trance.

  While she strutted up the stairs, I bumbled along behind her, too busy people-watching. I was still stunned by how many people were here. Dressed head to toe in their favourite team’s colours, flags already waving in the cold breeze and face paint smeared across their cheeks.

  “Good evening, ladies. You’re right through here,” a red-headed lady with freckles across her nose waved us through a door, and I felt a rush of warm air graze my frozen cheeks. It was amazing how much more pleasant it was when you were able to get out of the wind.

  Grabbing Sienna’s arm, I yanked her back towards me before whisper yelling, “What the hell have you done?”

  We were standing in a box. Not one of those open-faced ones where the rain still found a way to sneak in. No this was incredible. With huge glass windows in front, not one inch of the field was obstructed. The chairs looked comfortable, not those fold down ones that I almost fell off most of the time. And along the white back wall, the wall with the giant team logo plastered across it, was a table filled with food. Trays and trays of yummy deliciousness. Salami and cheeses. Dips, crackers, stuffed peppers and grilled vegetables. Gooey, oozy sliders, bite size pieces of sushi, and wings that looked like they bathed in thick smoky barbeque sauce. My mouth was watering. I was starting to be glad I let Sienna drag me out of the house.