Hard Tackle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “I can’t go out three nights in a row,” I pleaded. My brain was already begging me to get an early night. However, face-to-face with George, other parts of my body were making pleas of their own.

  “I have you in bed by ten. Whether you choose to sleep or not is up to you. Do we have a deal?”

  I looked up to the ceiling and then back down with an overly-dramatic sigh. “Okay, but it had better be a good title.”

  “It’ll more than suffice. Call it ‘The Fallacy of the English Civil War.’ You can split it into two sections: first, the fact that the war wasn’t English. It involved Scotland, Ireland, and Wales too. People often look past that. Second, it wasn’t just one war. If you want, you can talk about how history has chosen to refer to it in a way that promotes English dominance over other nations, blah, blah, blah.”

  “That sounds… better than anything I could have come up with.”

  “Good, then it’s a date. I’ll meet you outside here at eight.”

  “It’s not a date,” I said firmly. “I’m just going to have a drink with you to thank you for your help, and also to thank you for shutting up so that I can get on with my reading.”

  “Fine with me,” he replied. “I just want to enjoy my last couple of weeks of freedom.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. I’ll leave you to it.”

  I stared at the page in front of me, refusing to turn and watch him walk away. The words wouldn’t sink in. I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but I should be able to get out of it easy enough. I could fake being ill on Saturday if necessary.

  I sure as hell couldn’t go on a date with George. I could handle the drunken idiots, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle him, and that had me scared.

  Maybe I didn’t want to meet Prince Charming after all. I was just running from my past. The last thing I wanted to do was repeat my mistakes.

  Wasn’t that exactly why we studied history in the first place? To learn from our mistakes.

  Those ignorant of history are doomed to repeat it.

  I knew my history, and I was determined not to repeat it.

  Chapter Five

  George

  It wasn’t often I smiled when walking across a university campus, but no amount of students could make me miserable now.

  A text from my favorite journalist sure could though.

  The leak will happen soon. Real soon. Sorry, there was nothing I could do. Editor’s orders.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  How soon? I asked in reply.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  Fucking bloody shit. I couldn’t go out with Sophia tomorrow night. Even if the news hadn’t leaked by the evening, she’d wake up to find a hundred photographers outside her door or mine, depending on where we ended up. No country had a press quite like that of Britain. They were ruthless, and they’d be on me, and anyone I was with, in an instant.

  I had to see Sophia again. I didn’t just want to squeeze in a little more fun before the news leaked. I wanted to squeeze in a little more fun with her before the news leaked. I doubled back and snuck into the café without her noticing. She was still on her break, studying hard, although she hadn’t turned the page yet. Slow reader perhaps.

  Sophia had been talking to another barista when I’d come in and they seemed to be close. Can’t hurt to try.

  I walked up to the counter and under my breath introduced myself to a woman called Ellie.

  “Did you get anywhere with Sophia?” Ellie asked quietly.

  “Yes, but there’s been a change of plans. Do you know where she’s going to be tonight?”

  “Oh yeah, I think I can help with that.”

  * * *

  “I wish you would stop stressing about all this and see the positive side,” Tabitha said. My half-sister lived in America now, but that hadn’t stopped her being addicted to tea and biscuits. Even over the video chat, I could see her dunking something resembling a bourbon into her tea.

  “There is no positive side,” I insisted. “Our lives are about to get turned upside down. Worst of all, I’m going to end up bringing you and Liam into this mess.”

  “It’s not your fault. You can’t help who your father is. Besides, as I keep telling you, you don’t owe us anything. Stop stressing.”

  How could she appear so calm all the time? Tabitha could barely get around the house by herself, let alone look after her young son. Yet every time we spoke she always sounded like the happy one, while I was miserable and determined to find a way to fix all my sister’s problems.

  “I won’t stop stressing until I’ve fixed this mess,” I replied. “I’m going to get my inheritance, and then I’ll sort everything.”

  “You need to let go,” Tabitha said calmly. “Your engagement to Alisa collapsed—thank God—so now you’re not going to get your hands on that inheritance. Time’s almost up. Not unless you ensnare some poor girl in your scheme in the next few...”

  She trailed off when she saw the look on my face on her laptop.

  “There’s still time, sis. You know me, never say never.”

  Tabitha was right, but I couldn’t accept that yet. There had to be a way out of this. The problem wasn’t even that complicated when you boiled it down to the basics. Liam and Tabitha had medical bills—big ones. They needed money. I had to get money. Tabitha and I had different fathers, but mine had put a nice little sum away in a trust. After Mum’s death, that money became mine, or at least it would if I could satisfy one simple condition—get married by the time I’m twenty-five. Simple.

  And if I couldn’t get the money that way, there was always plan B.

  I hated the idea of marriage—I was a walking male cliché in that respect—but I hated plan B even more. Marriage was my idea of heaven in comparison. A wife might be a ball and chain, but plan B would be a ball and chain, plus I’d be locked up in a dungeon, with the key thrown into the ocean. Or maybe I’d just be locked up in the Tower of London. I didn’t even like London.

  “You don’t need to do all this for us,” Tabitha said. “Liam is my responsibility not yours. And it’s not your fault I didn’t get left much in the will. My biological father wasn’t quite as rich as yours.”

  “Few people are,” I said softly. “Look, we’ve had this conversation before, and I’m not going to change my mind now. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you and Liam are set for life.”

  “Even if you have to get married to do it?”

  “You haven’t seen the woman I have in mind. It wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice.”

  * * *

  By the time I arrived at Viva, Sophia, Ellie, and another girl, were already chatting to three guys who were buying them drinks.

  The three girls were tarted up to the nines, but it was only Sophia who had my attention. She wore a short black skirt that glittered slightly when caught by the lights, and clung tightly to her body. Her legs had a light golden tan that many of the women around here tried—and failed—to match with less natural tanning methods.

  She wore a white halterneck top with a plunging neckline, but I couldn’t make out much of her chest. That would have to be a treat for later.

  Much as I had done earlier today in the coffee shop, I sat at a table and enjoyed the view. The only difference was that this time I sipped whiskey and not coffee.

  I felt an unusual pang of what I assumed was jealousy in my chest as I watched Sophia chatting to the guy closest to her. The three guys looked like they were investment bankers, but there weren’t many of them in York. That meant they were dressing in pinstripe suits and loud ties because they wanted to look like investment bankers. That said all you needed to know about these three.

  Sophia kept smiling at the guy talking to her, but there were no other signs of attraction. I was an expert at reading women’s body language, and there was no way she wanted this guy.

  She took regular sips of her drink as he spoke, suggesting she was bored stiff b
y the conversation. She nodded along at regular intervals, but only to look like she was still paying attention. Finally, her chest pointed more towards the bar than the guy. If she wanted to capture his attention, one flash of those things would have him drooling and buying her all the drinks she wanted. The fact that she didn’t bother spoke volumes.

  I couldn’t relax. I polished off one glass of whiskey, and ordered another from a waitress hanging around close by. It was no good. I couldn’t enjoy the whiskey while Sophia was chatting to this moron in a suit.

  I made my move and headed to the bar. As luck would have it, the three men decided it was a good time to go to the toilets. And I thought only women went together. Probably planning on doing a few lines while they’re in there. Classy places like this were just the same as grungy bars. The guys snorted more expensive drugs and wore better clothes, but it was all the same at the end of the day.

  Ellie caught sight of me approaching and smiled excitedly. She clearly hadn’t told Sophia I would be here tonight.

  “Good evening, Sophia,” I said, approaching her from behind. I placed a hand on the soft skin of her back and bent forward slightly to kiss her on the cheek. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

  “What the hell.” She spun around in her seat and kicked me in the shins in the process. “Oops, sorry.”

  “No problem,” I lied, as the pain gradually faded.

  “What are you doing here? We said tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah, but I’m an impatient guy.”

  “Anyone going to introduce me?” the third girl asked.

  “Dani, this is George,” Ellie said.

  “How do you know his name?” Sophia asked her friend. “Nevermind. His presence here tonight has your name written all over it.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ellie said dryly. “Would you rather keep talking to Whit?”

  “God no,” Sophia replied quickly.

  “Those men not to your tastes?” I asked the girls.

  “No,” Ellie said just as quickly as Sophia had.

  “I’m going through a dry spell,” Dani said. “But even so, I’m not going near them tonight. I might let them buy me one more drink and that’s it.”

  I leaned forward and whispered in Sophia’s ear, making sure to get a glimpse of her delicious cleavage in the process. “Want me to get rid of him?”

  Sophia sighed, but then nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I want you either, just to be clear.”

  “Message understood. Loud and clear.”

  I glanced over at the toilets and saw the three of them coming back.

  “Just remember,” I said to Sophia, “you asked for this.”

  “Asked for—”

  The rest of her words were muffled by my lips as I leant in and kissed her.

  Chapter Six

  Sophia

  “Whoa.” Ellie sounded as shocked as I felt.

  I leaned back in my seat as George’s lips pressed up against mine, and his hand caressed my face. I forgot what to do. I’d kissed a guy just last night, yet this felt more like my first kiss ever.

  Excitement. Nerves. Fear. More excitement. Lust. They all crashed and collided together, as George’s lips parted mine just wide enough so that his tongue could reach inside and touch my own.

  Some of my senses came back to me. My hands dangled limply by my side, so I wrapped them around his large torso and placed them on his muscular back.

  Faint hints of his aftershave wafted up my nose, as I tried to focus on what they hell I was doing. Eyes closed. Check. Lips moving. Check. Heart racing. Double check.

  I knew I was in a bar, with my friends watching on excitedly, but in my mind, we were in the privacy of my bedroom. The music that had been pumping so loud we could barely hear each other, lowered to a soothing rhythm, and the chair I was perched on become the edge of the bed that I’d soon be experiencing ecstasy on as George took me—

  He stopped kissing me as abruptly as he’d started.

  “They’ve gone now,” he said.

  I opened my eyes and tried to regain my focus. I felt like I’d been in the dark for days, and my eyes were trying to adjust to sunlight, instead of the rather dim lights in the club.

  George was having no such issues. He took a sip of his drink, and acted like nothing had happened. He had on another shirt, although this time most of the buttons were done up, and it had been ironed. His jeans still looked a little rough, but perhaps that was the fashion now. At least he didn’t look like those douchebags who’d been hanging around us before he scared them off. They didn’t stop talking about how rich they were, which either meant they were tools or liars. Likely both, actually.

  George had done us a favor, but that didn’t make this any less weird. At least I could count on Ellie and Dani to acknowledge how bat shit crazy this all was.

  Holy shit, Ellie mouthed, when I looked over at her.

  I couldn’t quite tell what Dani was trying to say, but it looked a lot like “fuck him.” She did tend to get to the point.

  “Thanks George,” Ellie said. “For getting rid of those assholes. Although they were about to buy us another drink, so I reckon you owe us one.”

  “Ellie,” I snapped. “We can buy our own damn drinks.”

  That’s what overdrafts were for.

  George laughed, and waved for the attention of a nearby barmaid, who seemed ready and willing to serve him at a second’s notice.

  “These three ladies are drinking on me tonight,” he said casually.

  “Yes, Mr. Whittemore.”

  “You really don’t have to do that,” I insisted.

  “Don’t worry about it,” George replied. “At least this way you only have to spend the evening talking to one arrogant arse.”

  “I suggest we all drink some expensive whiskey,” Ellie said. “I’ve always wondered what whiskey tastes like when it’s not mixed with coke or lemonade.”

  “Four of these,” George said to the barmaid, as he held up his drink. “The drinks come with one condition,” he added.

  I sighed, and slumped back down in my seat. “Men always expect something in return. Usually one thing in particular.”

  “I don’t care,” Dani said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. All three of us will, won’t we girls? I’m sure we won’t mind getting to know each other a little more intimately.”

  Ellie laughed, while I choked back what was left of my cocktail.

  “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but actually all I wanted was a little one-on-one time with Sophia. Nothing seedy. I just want to get to know her a little better. Deal?”

  “Sounds great,” Ellie said.

  “I suppose,” Dani said disappointedly.

  “Do I get any say in this?” I asked. Ellie and Dani both stared at me like I was mad. I realized they were probably right. Why was I fighting this? I was being contrarian for the sake of it. If Ellie and Dani had told me George was a jerk, I’d be all over him like a rash.

  “Uh, you ladies discuss it,” George said. He was looking towards the far end of the bar where the three men were now standing. It looked like they were talking to some new victims, but I couldn’t see because of a pillar in the way. “I’ll be right back.”

  George walked towards the group while the barmaid poured us each a double measure of whiskey from the top shelf. It looked like liquid money. Like $100 bills—or £50 notes I suppose—melted down and poured into a glass.

  It smelled like success.

  It tasted like… like fire.

  “Holy shit,” I coughed, after taking a sip. “This stuff is strong.”

  “People drink this for pleasure?” Ellie asked after taking a sip herself.

  “I like it,” Dani said, despite cringing when she took a sip. “It tastes like money. Speaking of which…”

  “Yeah, what the hell is the deal with this George guy?” Ellie asked.

  “I should be asking you,” I replied. “I assume his appearance here is not a coincid
ence?”

  “Well, no, but I didn’t know you guys were that close already.”

  “We’re not,” I insisted. “That was just… I don’t know what that was.”

  “That was the prelude to a lot of hot sex,” Dani insisted.

  “It was just a kiss,” I said.

  The best kiss I’d had since coming to England. I cast my mind back to other first kisses I’d had in America, but there hadn’t been any like that. Not even close.

  “That wasn’t just a kiss,” Ellie said. “I’ve seen you kiss guys before, and it doesn’t look like that.”

  “I didn’t know you paid such close attention to my technique.”

  Ellie shrugged and took another sip of her whiskey, even though she still clearly hated the taste. “There wasn’t much technique that time. You looked like a fish out of water.”

  “He took me by surprise,” I said defensively.

  “Well now you’ve had time to prepare, so you can up your game. Stop being so cold around him.”

  “She’s right,” Dani said. “You’re always complaining about your bad luck with guys. Well a winning lottery ticket has just fallen into your lap. Don’t rip it up and throw it away. Cash that baby in for a lifetime’s supply of earth-shattering orgasms. Tax free.”

  And that there was the problem. Dani was right. I had been complaining a lot, and George was exactly what I wanted, in all ways but one. There was no “lifetime supply” with guys like George. One night was all I would get. I should go for it anyway. Unless I figured a way out of this visa mess, I wouldn’t be in England much longer. I might as well have some fun. He might look and sound like Prince Charming, but he’d be gone in the morning, and I’d be more like Cinderella, which I guess made Ellie and Dani—

  “What’s going on over there?” Ellie said, pointing to the men who’d been chatting us up earlier.

  The three men had surrounded George, and they looked pissed. I moved off my seat to get a better view. I saw the group of women the men had been chatting up. They looked around, trying to get the attention of a manager, but only a few barmaids were on the floor, and they wouldn’t do much good.