Game On

by Kyra Lennon

  “Do you blush that way over every man you think is cute?” Freya asked with a grin.

  “Well no, but that doesn’t mean I need to be forced on him!”

  “I’ll introduce you later,” Will said, ignoring me.

  I nodded, resigned to the fact that Will and Freya wouldn’t let it drop. In spite of my fake coolness, a little buzz of excitement zapped at my insides. Nine-thirty could not come quickly enough for me.

  ****

  “Oh dear God.”

  I spun around in circles, surveying myself in the bathroom mirror. I hadn’t tried on my ridiculously expensive dress since the day I dented my bank balance to make it mine.

  Has it always been this short?

  It couldn’t have been. I’d never have paid insane amounts of cash for something so tiny, not even on a shopping high. Can dresses shrink from being squashed in a suitcase among other clothes? Or maybe I’d grown an inch or two.

  Ha. Not possible. I hadn’t grown so much as a millimetre since I was thirteen.

  “Leah, have you finished? I need to shower!”

  I unlocked the door and went back into the bedroom where Freya hovered, waiting to get ready.

  “Hey there, sexy lady!”

  I stared at her to check if she was joking. She wasn’t.

  In the full length mirror in the corner of the room, I eyed myself critically again. I couldn’t deny I looked good in red, and the spaghetti straps helped to show off my tan.

  But it was so short.

  “I think I look a bit … slutty.”

  “You do not!” Freya placed her hands on my waist. “What’s the point of being cute and petite if you’re not gonna flaunt it?”

  “Don’t you think Will might assume I’m trying too hard to impress a certain crazy haired coach if I wear this? I think I’ll get changed.”

  “Leah, we’re going clubbing! All the girls will be wearing short dresses, and you don’t have to worry about what anyone thinks. You’re so British.”

  Freya often mocked me for occasionally being a stereotypical reserved Brit but I grew up in the countryside, in a place where you couldn’t so much as sneeze without people knowing and having something to say.

  You’re not there anymore. You’re free to do, and wear, what you want. Stop being so sensible!

  “And you’re sure I don’t look like a five dollar hooker?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Checking myself out in the mirror a third time, I sighed. “Okay, I’ll be brave.”

  At nine-thirty we headed down to the lobby to meet Will, Bree and Miguel. The sight that greeted us made my mouth drop open. In addition to the people we were supposed to be meeting were Jude Collinson, Jesse Shaw, Jesse’s girlfriend Taylor, Bryce Warren and Radleigh McCoy.

  “Well you did say the more the merrier,” I murmured, giving a small laugh.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll all go off and do their own thing when we get to the club.”

  I figured she was right and as we approached them, Will popped out from the crowd, halting as he took in our appearance.

  “Whoa.”

  “Put your tongue away,” I said with a smile.

  Will grinned. “You two look … wow.”

  His eyes lingered on Freya’s simple black dress, then down her long legs as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. Actually, there was a strong possibility that Freya really was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her high cheek bones were striking and her smile could power the bright lights of Vegas for a week.

  If she weren’t my best friend, I would have hated her.

  “Where did all these people come from?” Freya asked, peering over Will’s shoulder.

  “Word spread and this is what happened.”

  “But how? We only invited Miguel and ...”

  Bree. A vision of her bouncing down the hotel corridor, knocking on everyone’s doors and telling them about the night out hurtled into my mind. I opened my mouth to share my theory when an unexpected shiver rippled across my skin. The kind you feel when you know someone’s watching you. As I turned, a smile spread across McCoy’s face. His eyes flashed hungrily, like a hunter seeking out his prey.

  I tried to focus on how insulting that was, not how good he looked in his black trousers and white shirt. The top two buttons were open, allowing a glimpse of his well-toned, not to mention completely hair free chest. His smooth torso amused me the first time I’d seen him whip off his shirt. Soccer players were meant to be oozing masculinity, not baby oil.

  We hadn’t spoken a word to each other since he reported me to Richard. He shot me occasional smug glances, but my decision not to take the bait and scream at him for going back on his deal had kept him away.

  “Okay,” Will announced, “we’ll need a couple of cabs to get us all to the nightclub, so we’ll split up and meet there.”

  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd and I turned to locate Bree. She and Taylor were complimenting each other’s outfits, not that there was much of Taylor’s outfit to admire. A piece of pink floaty material masquerading as a dress hugged her trim figure. With her skinny legs, she slightly resembled a stick of candyfloss.

  “Damn, that dress looks good on you,” a far too familiar voice said from behind me. “It’ll look even better on my bedroom floor later.”

  “Get lost McCoy,” I said, without turning around.

  “Can’t I even compliment you?”

  “The only thing I want from you is space. So back off.”

  “Okay, but if you change your mind -”

  “I’ll never be that drunk. And stop staring at my cleavage.”

  McCoy laughed. “You’re good.”

  “And you’re predictable. Have a good evening.”

  The Blue Tattoo nightclub obviously had an excellent reputation. Hundreds of people moved to the loud, energetic music, their bodies illuminated by the coloured lights. With the beat of the music pumping through us, Freya, Bree and I boogied our way to the crowded bar, Will and Jude close behind. The others hadn’t arrived yet which was fine with me. I wanted to have at least half a glass of something alcoholic inside me before Will introduced me to Miguel.

  “I can’t wait to get down there,” Freya said, looking over the wooden railing to the enthusiastic clubbers below. “I need to dance!”

  “All those sweaty teenagers waiting to grope you,” Will teased. “Charming.”

  I laughed. “Hey, I haven’t been groped in years. This might be my lucky night.”

  “Leah!” Bree shrieked. “I thought you were a good girl!”

  “I have my moments,” I told her, winking.

  The atmosphere of the club had me feeling a bit wild and I knew once I started dancing, I may not stop. This was my night. I intended to make sure I enjoyed every second.

  The rest of the Westberg posse arrived shortly after but only Miguel joined us. Will introduced us, then dragged Freya and Bree away so we could get to know each other. Not only was Miguel laid back and easy to talk to, he had the cutest dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. By the time our drinks were ready, those first feelings of attraction had grown into the early stages of ‘I want to make him mine,’ moving rapidly towards, ‘If he doesn’t kiss me tonight I may as well swap my suspenders for slippers.’

  As much as I enjoyed Miguel’s company, my feet were starting to tap in anticipation. I was gagging to party with my girls so when he went to buy another drink, he told me he’d meet me on the dance floor. I weaved through the crowds to find Freya and Bree surrounded by men with hungry eyes. They seemed oblivious to the attention, absorbed in the pounding beats. It didn’t take long for me to get caught up in the rhythm too. I didn’t even notice McCoy behind me until my killer heels crunched down on his foot. I whirled round to apologise but when I saw him, I swiftly changed my mind.

  “Ow!”

  Even with the volume of the music, I heard his yelp loud and clear.

  “You shouldn’t have been so close,�
�� I said, raising my voice over the noise. “Go away. I’m trying to enjoy myself. Although, stomping on your foot has helped improve my evening.”

  “I never knew you were a sadist,” McCoy grinned. I didn’t even want to imagine what sick perversions were swirling around his brain.

  “Did you want something?”

  “Yes,” McCoy replied, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me close. “I want to dance with you.”

  This was the second time I’d been pressed against him, and the second time his closeness made my breath catch. The heat of his body ripped through me like fire and I gripped his wrists, pushing his hands away. “This is not the kind of music for dancing like that and even if it was, I wouldn’t be dancing with you.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “What did I do to you?” His eyes were challenging me to mention the complaint he made but when I held firm, he said, “What’s with you and Miguel?”

  “Are you spying on me now?”

  “And you accuse me of being arrogant. No Leah, I don’t need to spy on you. With you in that dress and the height of Vega’s afro, it’s pretty hard not to see you. So, you like him?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He shrugged. “A one night stand’s probably what you need. Maybe then you won’t be so uptight all the time.”

  I hated it. I hated how he made me so angry, and how I always reacted. Even though my head was screaming for me to walk away, my mouth refused to let me.

  “A quickie in some groupie’s hotel room might satisfy you,” I snapped, “but that’s not my thing.”

  “How do you know if you’ve never tried it?”

  “I have! It made me feel cheap and dirty, and that’s why I don’t do it anymore!”

  He stared at me in surprise. He’d been trying to get under my skin, he hadn’t expected me to confess the sins of my past.

  Nice work. Now he thinks you’re a harlot, he’ll never leave you alone.

  A warm hand tugged at my arm. “Leah, come and dance!”

  Bree was bouncing on the balls of her feet like a toddler waiting for her mum to quit talking and start playing. Her enthusiasm waned when she noticed McCoy staring intently at me, his eyes heavy with questions. I could almost see her brain trying to figure out a way to save me from dealing with him.

  “Mr McCoy,” she said, flashing her most charming smile, “may I have this dance?”

  Bree subtly winked at me, and gratitude flooded through me that she was so well versed in the girl code. She stepped forward and McCoy’s gaze travelled up and down her curvy frame. It took all of my strength not to throw myself in front of her to protect her from his leering, but she took it in her stride.

  “I would love to dance with you, Mrs Collinson,” he answered, taking her hand.

  I mouthed the words, ‘thank you,’ as he whisked her away. With a slight twinge of guilt, I moved back towards Freya and Miguel.

  Miguel’s dance moves were as wild as his hair. His craziness allowed me to really let loose and I immersed myself in his zany dancing spirit, shoving my revelation to McCoy to the back of my mind. He probably wouldn’t even remember in the morning anyway. Miguel kept me far too entertained to worry. He made me laugh until my ribs hurt, and it was in the middle of one of those fits of laughter that Bree caught our attention by squealing, “Yes! They’re free at last!”

  She grabbed my hand and dragged me along behind her to the middle of the dance floor where four raised, well-spaced poles stood. Judging by the people who’d been using them earlier, I thought they were for staff only, but I spotted several other clubbers racing towards them too. Bree had obviously been keeping a close eye on them and we just managed to beat out a group of young girls dressed as nuns.

  “Sorry,” Freya called. “No sinning for you!”

  Bree pulled herself up on to the platform.

  “You’re kidding?” I asked, already knowing full well she had her heart set on shaking her booty in front of the masses of strangers.

  Bree shook her head. “Come on!”

  Freya had already started dancing and as she swung round the pole towards me, she laughed and gestured for me to join her. The alcohol I’d consumed had lowered my inhibitions so I smiled back at her before stepping up to one of the available poles.

  “Imagine it’s a man,” Bree said with a cheeky smile on her face.

  Laughing, I placed my hands on the cool metal pole and wiggled towards it. I spun around, swaying my hips from side to side and sliding up and down. Bree abandoned her pole to join mine, mirroring my moves perfectly. I looked round at her and grinned.

  “Go Leah,” she giggled before returning to her own pole.

  I started to get a feel for it so I hoisted myself up into the air and swung round, bottom leg straight, top leg slightly bent.

  As I whizzed round the pole, I let out a shriek. One of my expensive black heels flew off my foot into the crowd.

  Fuck!

  I landed - lopsidedly - glancing around like Cinderella for my missing shoe, praying it hadn’t injured anyone. I was lucky not to have broken McCoy’s toes when I stood on them but a flying six-inch heel could take someone’s eye out.

  I scanned the people nearby, searching for someone who looked angry but my eyes rested on a smiling Miguel.

  He held my shoe.

  What are the chances …?

  Shaking my head in amusement, I took off my other shoe then stepped back up to the pole to continue my dance. I felt less self-conscious this time, fired up knowing Miguel was watching me. Pulling out every sexy move I had, I didn’t care if I looked ridiculous because there was one man who seemed to be enjoying every second.

  When the song ended, I stepped down from the platform, hot, sticky and exhilarated.

  If things don’t work out at Westberg, there may be a career in pole dancing for me.

  Miguel greeted me with a grin and handed me my disobedient heel.

  “Sorry,” I said, slipping my shoe on, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, he laughed. “And even if you had, the dance more than made up for it!”

  High from the buzz, I slid my arms around him, touching him for the first time. His body was toned but much softer than I’d expected. It was comforting, like having my own life-sized teddy bear.

  “Did I just make a complete fool of myself?”

  “Not at all. In fact, from the way the guys in here are staring at you I’d say they would kill to be in my position right now.”

  I began to respond but a disturbing sight caught my eye over Miguel’s shoulder, halting me before I could speak. Amongst the throng of happy clubbers, I noticed McCoy intertwined with Taylor. His hands firmly held the exposed skin at her waist and she was grinding her hips against his.

  “Oh hell.”

  Miguel turned to follow my gaze. “That’s not good.”

  My eyes darted around, seeking out Jesse and hoping he hadn’t seen them. I spotted him by the bar, staring in their direction and my heart instantly went out to the young soccer player.

  “I think I should go and talk to him. He looks like he needs a distraction.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait for you down here.”

  I gave him a quick hug, before making my way off the dance floor towards Jesse.

  “Hey,” I said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  With a half-hearted smile, he said, “So you saw them too.”

  “I did. I don’t think you should read too much into it though.”

  “Leah, that’s practically foreplay!”

  It was hard to disagree. Taylor whispered something in McCoy’s ear and he smiled like a man who was about to get lucky.

  “Taylor’s yours. You know that.”

  “I thought so too but now I’m not so sure. Of all the people in here, why did she choose McCoy? Why the man who made me want to be a soccer player?” He let out a deep sigh. “When I got selected to play for Westberg, I couldn’t believe I was going to meet McCoy and play on the sam
e team as him. I guess he really is as much of a dick as the papers say.”

  The pain on Jesse’s face made my heart break a little. Just eighteen years old, starting out in his career and his life, only to think it was all over because the girl he loved was rubbing herself up against the man he idolised.

  “Jesse, listen,” I said, turning him to face me. “I’m no fan of McCoy but the only thing he cares for, besides himself, is the Warriors. He would never screw you over by taking your girlfriend.”

  I desperately hoped Bree was right in assuming McCoy wouldn’t touch his teammates’ women because I couldn’t think of any other way to wipe away his sadness.

  “What about her?” he asked. “Can I trust her?”

  “I don’t know. But she’s young, and being here with all these super famous people is probably really exciting for her.”

  “Did you behave that way when you first got here?”

  “No,” I laughed, “but I’m eight years older than her. I don’t look that good half naked. If I did, Bryce Warren would almost certainly have got a lap dance.”

  Jesse’s face finally broke into a smile. “Hey, for an older woman, you’ve got it goin’ on.”

  I playfully bumped my hip against his. “Come on, kiddo, let’s get out there and show them you’re not worried.”

  “I can’t. Sprained ankle, remember?”

  “Not a problem,” I said, taking his hand. “You stand still and I’ll dance around you. That’ll make her come running back!”

  My prediction was correct. While we were laughing and dancing foolishly together, Taylor unwrapped herself from McCoy and joined us. Thankfully, she didn’t seem upset by my dancing with her boyfriend. I didn’t want to heal one rift, then immediately start another. I left them alone, satisfied I’d done my good deed for the day.

  We arrived back at the hotel at three in the morning, and almost everyone was completely hammered. Miguel and I shared a taxi with Freya and Will, both of whom were staggering around giggling. Freya had removed her shoes and she still couldn’t walk straight. She and Will fell against each other as they tried to stumble through the revolving doors, then promptly collapsed on the floor laughing hysterically.