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

by Rebecca Barber

  She didn’t answer. Not in words anyway. There was nothing she could say that would change things. For now, it was what it was, and I just had to get on with it. So that’s what I was doing. I was working my butt off and impressing my new bosses. I was going to walk away from this opportunity with a kickarse letter of recommendation if it killed me. My personal life may be a shit show, but that didn’t mean I had to tank my professional one as well.

  My phone rang and we both jumped.

  “Hello?”

  “Emma!” the excited person on the other end of the line screeched in my ear.

  “Ah, yeah?”

  “It’s Tash.”

  That explained it. I didn’t know her all that well, but I knew Tash was a ball of energy that couldn’t be tamed. She was that whirlwind of a friend who’d blast through your life, upend it, take you for the ride of your life then while you’re heaving in the corner trying to catch your breath and figure out what just happened, she was already on to step two. “Have you been drinking?” I asked.

  “Maybe a champers or two. Anyway, our wedding.”

  “Ah yeah?” I had no idea where she was going with this. When I was in Adelaide, she’d casually tossed out an invite, but I hadn’t given it any serious consideration. Especially now Bryce and I were barely speaking.

  “You and Sienna are still coming, right?”

  “You were serious about that?” I confirmed, more than a little stunned.

  “Of course, I was!” Tash sounded offended.

  “Sienna’s here with me now, let me put you on speaker.”

  “Who is it?” Sienna whispered at me.

  “Tash,” I replied as I hit the speaker button.

  “Ladies!”

  “Hey, Tash,” Sienna greeted her.

  “Now, you’re coming to Fiji for the full week, right?”

  “Wait! What?” Sienna squawked, and I swear between these two I was now completely deaf.

  “Geez! Do you two pay attention to anything?” Tash reprimanded before launching into a very detailed, very specific wedding week itinerary including a pool bar bachelorette party, daily sundowners, visits to the spa and a post wedding brunch. There was also something in there about scuba diving, snorkelling and banana boats – whatever the hell they were.

  “It’s a really nice offer, Tash,” I began before Sienna clamped her hand down over my mouth.

  “And we can’t wait to take you up on it,” Sienna confirmed as I glared at her, giving her my best what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look. A look which she clearly ignored. “Email me the details and we’ll organise some flights.”

  “Sure! What’s your email?”

  While Sienna and Tash solidified their plans, I got up and started pacing around the house trying to think of a way to get out of this. As appealing as Fiji was – survive the winter then take off for the beach – going to Tash and Logan’s destination wedding didn’t sound like a good idea. Bryce would be there, and I wasn’t sure if I were ready to see him again. Even though we’d made no promises to each other, even though we’d avoided the huge, messy break-up – probably because you couldn’t break up if you weren’t technically together – seeing him, being near him again wouldn’t be easy.

  “Bye, guys. Can’t wait to see you! Bring a bikini! You’re going to need it,” Tash added before ending the call.

  “What?” Sienna snarked at me.

  “What?” I countered. I hadn’t said a word, so I wasn’t sure exactly how I was the one in trouble here.

  “Why are you trying to wriggle your way out of a trip to Fiji? Nice, warm, sunny Fiji. You know, the place where you can lay by the pool all day and hot guys deliver delicious cocktails to you and there’s enough eye candy on display to give you a toothache. Spill it, Emma!” Sienna demanded.

  Even I had to admit she was doing a bloody good job selling me on the idea. As bitterly cold as Canberra was, Fiji was warm and the idea of sinking my frostbitten toes into the warm, white sand was almost enough to sway me. Almost. There was still a six-foot-four con keeping me firmly planted on Australian soil.

  “Do you know who the best man is?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “Bryce Masters. As in Bryce-I’m-A-Tease Masters.”

  “You mean Bryce-Drop-Your-Panties-For-Me Masters?”

  “Yep. That’s him,” I confirmed, flopping back into the couch and yanking the blanket up to my chin.

  “You mean Bryce-I’m-An-Idiot-Masters?”

  “The one and the same.”

  “You mean Bryce-I-Stole-Your-Heart-But-You-Won’t-Admit-It Masters?”

  “What? No! He did not steal my heart. We weren’t like that. We were just friends who fucked each other’s brains out, once or twice.”

  “And that’s the lie you can keep telling yourself, Em. But you and I both know that’s complete crap. The only difference between us is you’re too chicken shit to admit it.”

  Sulking, I grabbed the remote and increased the volume. I was done talking about Bryce. He’d chosen to not be a meaningful part of my life when he stopped trying. I mean, how hard was it to return a text or call? It hadn’t been a problem before I’d gone to Adelaide, so I’d just assumed that after spending actual time with me, he’d realised I wasn’t worth the effort. Well, fuck him. It was his loss. I was freaking fabulous and I didn’t need to prove it to him or anyone else.

  ***

  I had one week to go on my contract and then it was back to Sydney. The prince and princess were scheduled to touch down in Canberra in three days’ time and to say everyone was a little on edge was like saying the sun was a tad warm. Total fucking understatement. It would’ve been comical if it wasn’t so completely over the top. Three people were polishing the same piece of brass. The grounds keepers were mowing daily, and I’d busted their supervisor down on his hands and knees with a pair of scissors trimming around a fountain.

  Me though, I was surprisingly chilled. There was nothing more I could do now. If I hadn’t already done it, then there was no chance it was going to happen. Sitting back on the outdoor bench, enjoying a rare fifteen minutes of sunshine, my Canberra boss, Pamela, came over. She too looked rather calm in the midst of the chaos.

  “It’s a beautiful afternoon,” she began as she sat down beside me.

  Pamela and I couldn’t be more different. Where she was poised, put together and perfectly pressed, I had dirt under my nails, a rip in my pants exposing my pasty, hairy knee and I could barely keep track of what day it was. It didn’t seem to matter, though. Somehow, we just complimented each other, and it worked.

  “Yeah. I thought I’d enjoy it before the clouds roll back in,” I confirmed, taking a bite of my Nutella sandwich.

  “Well, I’d say you’ve got about another, ah…ten minutes give or take before it disappears again.” She smiled.

  “You ready for the big day?” I asked, making it sound like her wedding. To Pamela, this was probably more important. It wasn’t every day you got to host royalty.

  “As ready as we’ll ever be. Thanks to you,” she offered.

  “I just did my job.”

  “And you did it brilliantly. Everyone here loves you. Your work speaks for itself. Would you consider staying on, in a more permanent capacity?”

  Wait!

  Hold up!

  What?

  Was she offering what I think she was? A full-time position? Holy shit! I didn’t see this coming. I hadn’t even allowed myself to consider it.

  “Sorry?”

  “Emma, you’ve done amazing work. You’re a vital part of the team and seeing this, seeing what you’ve pulled off, it’s a team I don’t want to break up. So yes, Emma. I’m offering you the same position but in a full-time capacity.”

  I really wanted to swear. The curse words were lining up on the tip of my tongue waiting to explode. I swallowed them down. There’d be time and wine for that later. Instead, I placed what was left of my sandwich back in the bag and wiped my hands on my thighs.


  That sounded reasonable. After agreeing to give it some thought, I watched as Pamela walked back towards the main building high on the hill. It was impressive how balanced she was as she strode across the grass not even wobbling on the uneven ground on her three-inch heels.

  Tossing my lunch in the bin, I reached for my phone. It wasn’t until I had it out, unlocked and in my hand staring at me that I realised what I was about to do. I was on the verge of texting Bryce. For some reason, one I’ll never understand, he was the first person I wanted to tell. I wanted his opinion on what I should do. I wanted to know what he thought.

  Thankfully, I stopped before I made myself look like a fool.

  Sliding it back in my pocket, I went back to work, my mind whirling at a million miles an hour.

  ***

  It was my last day in Canberra. I’d packed my things, straightened up a bit – I didn’t want to look like a complete pig for the cleaning crew – and was piling all my shit in the car pretending I didn’t have a hangover. Apparently farewell drinks are the same no matter which state you were in. They start out civilly; wine with a cheeseboard, but by the end of the night you’re doing shots of tequila and singing ‘Living on a Prayer’ complete with the headbanging.

  After handing the key to my room back to reception, I walked down the street to the corner café. On a normal day, it was the last place on my list of favourites to eat, but beggars can’t be choosers and today, I wasn’t sure I was sober enough to drive until I had something in my stomach.

  The vegan menu was bullshit. Doing my best with what I could, I ordered and ate quickly. This wasn’t right. I needed a hamburger. A big, fat, juicy hamburger with pineapple and bacon. While dreaming about the sizzling bacon and smoky barbeque sauce, I ate my cardboard food and gulped down my dirt-flavoured coffee and got the hell out of there.

  By the time I made it back to my car I had a headache, my desperation for a real coffee was becoming life-threatening and that food, if you could even call it that had done nothing to satisfy the gurgling of my stomach. The sooner I got on the road and found the nearest McDonalds the safer it would be for all.

  Sliding behind the wheel, I dumped my handbag on the front seat and plugged my phone in. If I was going to have to drive home today, I was going to need my tunes.

  I started the ignition when my phone rang. With Sienna’s name flashing on screen, I hit answer and her voice filled my car.

  “Have you seen it?”

  “Good morning to you too, Sienna,” I replied, ignoring her question.

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Did you see who’s in Sydney? And who he’s with?”

  Geez! She was really worked up for a Saturday morning.

  “If you’re telling me Scott Eastwood is in Sydney with some skank and not me, I’m not going to be happy. You get that…right?” I teased.

  “Bryce. Em, Bryce is in Sydney.”

  “Oh.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Nope.” Not sure why I should know but right now my bigger problem was trying to untangle why I even cared.

  “Arsehole!” Sienna scorned. Gotta love girlfriend solidarity.

  “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s there for a reason.”

  “Well it better not be the whore he’s been photographed with at the airport. They’re looking awfully fucking chummy to be just friends.”

  My stomach churned. I wasn’t sure if it was from Sienna’s news or the tequila/daiquiri mix I’d ingested. I was blaming the booze. I wasn’t ready to deal with the idea that it could be anything else.

  “Seriously, could she be any more fake? And why in the hell would she think, even for a second that those duck lips look good? Hope he gets chlamydia hanging out with that skank.” There was no question, Sienna was in fine form this morning. I almost didn’t want to stop her tirade, but I couldn’t deal with it right now.

  “Sie. I know you love me, and I know you’re trying to protect me, but Bryce and I are done. We barely even speak anymore. So, he can do what he wants with who he wants,” I tried to explain although it still didn’t explain why the words tasted so terrible.

  “Okay. Fine. Lie to yourself and lie to me all you want.”

  When the line went dead, I knew Sienna was pissed at me. Leaning back in my seat, I rubbed the bridge of my nose willing the headache away. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’d apologise to Sienna and figure out a way to make it up to her. First things first, I had to get home.

  Before I had the chance to move my car out of the parking spot, my phone chimed with an incoming message. It had no words, no context, no warning. Just a link to one of the news sites.

  Clicking on it I waited while the image downloaded.

  “That fucking son of a bitch!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  BRYCE

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I checked with Logan one last time.

  The look he gave me told me everything I needed to know.

  Last night we’d hidden in the back corner of the bar, drank our beer and watched as the girls lived it up. If I thought Tash and Giselle were trouble together, add in Sienna and Emma and I pitied every guy that tried to hit on them. And there was more than a few circling. When the first guy approached their table and sidled up next to Tash, I thought I was going to have to pin Logan to the ground. I’ll admit I didn’t like it, but I knew how tough these girls were, and now I was fascinated to see how it played out. Even though I couldn’t hear what they were saying, it took them all of fifteen seconds before the smile was wiped from his face and he was slinking back across the bar.

  I’d arrived in Fiji two days ago and I’d already decided I never wanted to leave. Between the food, the drinks, the sunshine and the scantily clad women, I was in heaven. Even though I only had eyes for one. Emma-bloody-Hardy. That chick had upended my whole life and she was completely clueless.

  Since we’d been knocked out in week one of the finals in humiliating fashion, I’d been working my arse off behind the scenes. Only my family, Logan and my agent knew what I was trying to get in place, but contracts and negotiations took time. Too much time. Now I was here, and any moment I was going to get the call which would confirm if all my hard work was going to pay off.

  “You don’t even look nervous,” I teased.

  Logan-freaking-Oliver. Cool as a fucking cucumber standing in the sand wearing the same khaki pants and white shirt as I was, waiting for Tash to arrive. Sitting in the chairs sinking into the sand were their family and friends. They could’ve all been naked for the notice I was paying them. Except for her.

  Emma was trying to keep her head down and hide in the back but there was no way she could. With her long, inky-black hair curling over her shoulders, her knee-length emerald dress with the huge ‘V’ plunging between her boobs, I was powerless.

  From the moment I’d arrived, I’d made sure to stay out of her sight, but that didn’t mean she was out of mine. When I’d first spotted her reclining by the pool, I had to do a double take. All the other women around her were wearing colourful variations of the same itsy-bitsy bikini but there was my Emma in a black one-piece which made her legs look a mile long and her boobs look spectacular.

  “Nothing to be nervous about. It’s Tash. She’s what I want.”

  “Well good for you.” I clapped him on the back meaning every word and more. I was jealous as hell of Logan. He’d gotten his shit together and nabbed the girl of his dreams.

  The music started and Logan turned to me. “Let’s get me married, then we can focus on getting your girl.”

  I didn’t have a chance to remind him that this wasn’t about me. Today was all about him and Tash. But when she appeared, I knew he didn’t need me to tell him. As usual, Logan was already three steps ahead of me and figured it all out. Tash walked across the sand on her father’s arm looking like an angel. Good thing I knew differently.

  Half an hour later, and perhaps a sneaky tear shed, and it was all done. Tash was now officially Mrs Log
an Oliver. Stepping out of the way, I let the family get in there first before I gave Logan one of those weird man hugs and congratulated him. He couldn’t stop talking or wipe the smile from his face. Dude was fucking ecstatic. And good on him. He deserved to be.

  Bending down, I kissed Tash on the cheek before wrapping my arms around her, earning me a growl from her new husband. He might have his ring on her finger, and they may share a last name, but none of that would stop me from winding him up.

  “Congrats, Tash. You look beautiful,” I whispered into her ear as she hugged me tightly.

  “Thanks, Masters. Now, I got my guy it’s time for you to go get your girl. I got her here. Don’t fuck it up!”

  “But no pressure or anything?” I forced a laugh. Anything to make it seem less daunting.

  “Oh, there’s pressure. I like her and if you screw this up and I’m forced to choose…well, let’s just say, you better not make me choose.” Tash kissed my cheek, offered me a wink before she was tugged out of my arms and thrust in another direction. Downside of being the bride, I guess. Everyone wants a piece of you.

  With the formalities done and dusted, out came the cocktails. I usually wasn’t into those fruit froufrou drinks, but these were going down so easily, I had to be careful I didn’t go down with them. Tash hadn’t left Logan’s side all night, and I don’t know if it was her choice or he wasn’t letting her. Either wouldn’t surprise me.

  Across the other side of the bonfire, beyond the flickering flames, Emma danced like I wasn’t watching. She had to know I was, though. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And every time she glanced my way, I was busted. Call me arrogant, call me an arsehole, I didn’t care. If she caught me staring at her, then that meant she was looking at me too.

  She laughed, throwing her head back and lifting her arms high in the air as she spun in circles on the sand. She was fucking mesmerising. Every time she leaned down and took a sip of her huge fishbowl, flowery cocktail my dick twitched at the memory of what those lips could do. Then when a guy I didn’t recognise approached her, bending down to ask her something, my control snapped. I couldn’t wait a second longer. Jumping to my feet, I adjusted myself discreetly. The last thing I needed was a boner as I stormed across the sand like a caveman.