Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)

by Avery Wilde

  ***

  “Kate! Wake up!”

  A familiar voice roused me, and I opened my eyes and blinked. My skin felt scratchy and hot and my mouth was drier than I could ever remember it being. Lizzy was sitting up in bed and grinning at me, looking no worse for wear.

  “Kate, look at these,” she said as she pointed to a gigantic bouquet on the nightstand of the bed.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed. It was the biggest floral arrangement I’d ever seen—it was so big that it took up almost the whole surface of the table. “Who sent that?”

  Lizzy gave me a curious smile. “Let’s just say I don’t think they’re for me,” she said. “Why don’t you read the card?”

  I frowned, and standing up, I stretched. My limbs felt like they were all asleep and I had trouble shuffling the few feet towards the flowers. Up close, they were even lovelier. The bouquet was comprised of all different types: roses, tulips, peonies, lilies… all pink and white. It was beautiful. I lowered my head and sniffed the delicate aroma before searching for the note Lizzy had mentioned. There was a card printed on heavy white stock paper, and I took it with trembling fingers.

  “Kate. Thank you so much for such an eventful evening,” I read out loud. “You’re right; they’re for me!”

  “Duh,” Lizzy said. She rolled her eyes. “Is that all the card says?”

  I blushed. “You already read it, didn’t you?” I said as my eyes skated over the ‘P.S.’ part on the bottom of the card.

  “I’ve been awake for an hour,” she replied. “You were snoring like anything, though! I figured you could use your rest. A certain footballer must have tired you out…”

  My blush deepened. “Okay, okay, shh. The other line on the card says: Fiddler’s Green. 19:30.”

  “That’s a pub here in Manchester. And he wants you to meet him tonight! Are you going to go?”

  I smiled.

  We both already knew the answer to that.

  Chapter Seven

  Jay

  Before going down to Fiddler’s Green, I noticed an odd feeling in my chest. It felt like my lungs were tight and my heart was pounding. It was the same kind of feeling that I had before a game—nervousness, mixed with excitement and anticipation. Whenever I thought about Kate, her curvy little body, her melodic laugh, her sharp mind…I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. I hadn’t felt this crazy about a girl in ages, and I couldn’t believe it was happening with someone that I’d just met yesterday.

  As if to prove a perfect counter to my mood, it was pouring with rain outside. I took a taxi to the pub and waited for Kate nervously at the bar. Normally, when I was waiting for a girl, I’d have a pint or two, but there was something disarming about Kate, something that made me want to wait until she got here.

  “Hey, Jay,” the bartender said. He reached out and we slapped hands. “How ya been?”

  “Tops,” I said. “We won the other day, against those Liverpool bastards.”

  “I saw,” he said with a grin. I’d been coming into this pub for ages, and everyone who worked there was like an old mate at this point. Plus, it was one of the few places I could go and not attract a ton of attention. Fiddler’s Green was a tiny little pub, in the heart of Manchester, and it wasn’t frequented by the kinds of birds who would have watched my games. It was more like an old man’s kind of bar, with dim lighting and dark wood fixtures everywhere.

  “I’m waiting for a girl,” I said impulsively. “This American bird I met the other night. Her sister’s a real nutter for football.”

  The barkeep laughed. “You’ve got a new bird every week, Jay,” he said teasingly. “What’s so special about this one that she gets to come here, eh?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But it feels… different.”

  Every time the door to the pub banged open, I jumped a foot in the air, convinced it was Kate, but after the fifth or sixth time, I stopped looking. It was already a half-hour past when I’d told her to meet me, and I wondered if she’d even bother showing up. I thought I was getting to a point where she might like me, but then I remembered her disdain when I’d first met her. She’d turned her nose up at me, like she would have rather done almost anything on earth rather than talk to me. Maybe she was embarrassed. After all, her sister blew chunks all over the loo of my club, but she didn’t seem like the type to be put off by something like that.

  Finally, almost an hour late, Kate walked through the door. Her dark hair was soaked, and she looked more disheveled than usual, but she was still striking and beautiful. When she saw me, a guilty look flashed across her face.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said as she rushed over to me. “This is so embarrassing. I’m so late!”

  I laughed out loud. Her self-flagellation was adorable. “What happened? Did you lose track of time?” I didn’t want to suggest it, but I wondered if she wasn’t used to 24-hour time.

  “It’s worse than that,” Kate mumbled. “I need a drink before I can even tell you.”

  The barkeep bustled over to us and looked at Kate, and when she wasn’t looking, he winked at me, then turned to her. “What can I do you for, love?”

  Kate looked around frantically for a menu. “Do you have any wine?” she asked as she draped herself across the bar. I watched her curves shift on the stool and I felt my mouth go dry. “I like whites,” she added. “But if you have a red, I can do that, too.”

  “Sorry, love,” the barkeep replied. “We only have ales here. We’ve got a house pale and a house stout, which will it be?”

  Kate looked at me with a helpless grin on her face. “Which is better?”

  “The stout,” I advised. “Plus, higher alcohol content.”

  Kate blushed. “I’ll take one of those,” she said softly. The barkeep nodded and handed her an overflowing pint glass full of dark beer a moment later. Kate regarded it cautiously before closing her eyes and taking a sip.

  “This is really good,” she said. “Thanks!”

  He smiled and walked away, and I chuckled to myself. “So, what happened?”

  Kate blushed again, and she took another long pull of beer, swallowing appreciatively. I watched the muscles work in her throat and felt my cock twitch between my legs. Her mouth was so soft, so luscious. I wanted to have her all over me, right then and there.

  “I waited for the bus on the wrong side of the road,” Kate said. She looked down at her full glass of beer. “Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?”

  I laughed. “You’re a funny one,” I told her, reaching over to ruffle her wet hair. “What did Lizzy have to say about that?”

  “She laughed at me,” Kate said ruefully. “And then it started raining but I was already late so I figured it couldn’t get much worse. England is still confusing for me. It somehow feels like home, but not. Does that make sense?”

  I nodded. “Sometimes I feel a bit lost myself,” I told her. “Being from Ireland and all. How is Lizzy doing, by the way? All healed from her night with the boys?”

  Kate laughed, showing perfect white teeth. She took another polite sip of beer. “She’s much better,” she said. “I think her pride got hurt more than anything. She didn’t want me to tell anyone that she had to spend the night in the hospital.”

  “It happens to all of us sooner or later,” I said with a grin. “When I first started playing for Manchester, the blokes had it in their heads to haze me. You ever heard of a beer bong?”

  Kate laughed. “I did go to college in America,” she said. “I know all about beer bongs.”

  “Right, well my mates would pour me one for every goal I missed during the game,” I said. “That was about eight in one night. I bloody thought I was going to drown in ale!”

  Kate laughed again, her cheeks pinking. “That’s horrible,” she said. “I can’t imagine my friends doing things like that.”

  “I bet you were in a sorority,” I said with a wink. “With all those girls in matching pink jumpers. Did you have a pin
k jumper, maybe with some Greek letters on the front?”

  Kate blushed bright red. “I was in a sorority,” she said after a moment. “But we didn’t wear pink sweaters. They were teal,” she said. “And they had to be properly teal. If they didn’t match, we couldn’t wear them.” She laughed. “But I didn’t party very much. I was on a scholarship, so I didn’t want to lose it. Lizzy and I grew up in the country and college was the first chance I really had to be around a lot of people.”

  I liked this Kate, the kind of Kate that loosened up and told me things about her past. I grinned. “You feel like dinner?”

  Kate nodded. “Can you believe it, but I’m starving,” she said mildly. “After Lizzy was discharged, I took her home and then spent the whole day walking around. It was so nice outside, but my legs are killing me now. Manchester’s a great city.”

  “It is,” I nodded. “What d’ya like best about it so far?”

  Kate grinned. “Well, the food is incredible, despite everyone back home always complaining about how English food is allegedly so bland and boring,” she said as she reached for a menu. “What would you recommend here? Have you been here before?”

  “All the time,” I replied. “This is like a second home to me. And another one of those few places I can go without being mobbed by fans.”

  “Cool. So what should I have?”

  “The fish and chips is good,” I said. “Also the corned beef, if you want something a little heavier.”

  Kate drained her beer and set the glass on the counter. “I’ll have what you’re having again,” she said. “And another one of those.” She pointed at the empty pint glass. “That was incredible. And I usually don’t even like beer!”

  I chuckled. “Blimey, I’m in a pub with a snobby wine drinker,” I teased. “If only my mates could see me now!”

  Kate grinned. I liked that she could take some teasing and knew it was all just a lighthearted joke. “Would they give you hell?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” I said, making my voice as serious as I could. “Little gives them more offense than women who refuse to drink beer because it’s not feminine.”

  “I never got the chance to really get into beer. Even the guys I work with are wine drinkers,” Kate mused.

  I imagined her colleagues sashaying around the set of her show. “I bet you’re around some real pricks,” I said. “All those media types.”

  Kate laughed again, louder this time. “You could definitely say that about a couple of them,” she said. “But overall, the people are great.”

  The barkeep brought us two more glasses of dark ale, and he looked expectantly from me to Kate. “Decide on some grub?”

  “We’ll both have the brisket sandwich, with a side of chips and slaw,” I said. “And keep the ales coming. Thanks, mate!”

  Kate turned to me. “That does sound good,” she said. “And I trust your taste after the amazing Chinese food we had the other day. Thank you for ordering.”

  I grinned. “Not a problem. So, you like this place?”

  Kate looked around, her deep green eyes taking in everything there was to see. “I do,” she said. “But again, it’s surprising. I keep thinking you’d have more expensive tastes.”

  “I do, sometimes,” I said. “But I grew up so close to here, I wanted you to see it. It’s one of my favorite places to come when I want to be alone. Remember the other night, I told you about living with my uncle?”

  She nodded. “Yeah,” she replied. “I remember. Does he live around here?”

  I pointed up towards the ceiling of the bar. It had originally been white, but it was stained and yellowed with decades worth of nicotine.

  “He lives right up there,” I said. “He owns this place. I lived with him after my parents died.”

  Kate looked at me with her mouth in a little ‘o’ of surprise. “They died?” she said. “Oh god, how awful. I’m so sorry, Jay.”

  “It was an IRA car bombing,” I said sourly as I reached for my beer and poured some down my throat. “Coroner said they had no idea, that they didn’t see it coming. At least they died quickly.”

  Kate was looking at me with a mixture of horror and pity on her lovely face, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. As shitty as things had been back then, I didn’t want her feeling sorry for me. “I had a rough childhood,” I said. “But my uncle really did me right, he made sure I grew up properly. He had to teach me all about hard work. I started playing football when I moved out here, and he was the one to teach me about dedication.”

  Kate nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’m really glad you had someone to support you,” she said.

  “Me, too,” I said. “And now this place is like a home to me. Mac, the bartender, he’s a great guy.” I gestured to the man who had served Kate beer. “Looks out for me like a brother.”

  “That’s really nice.”

  Impulsively, I asked her: “What d’ya think about coming out with me to see the sights? No tourist traps, I promise. Just real Manchester.”

  Kate smiled. Then she bit the inside of her lip, which made me want to lean in and kiss her. “I’d really love that,” she finally said. “Thank you.”

  Mac walked over towards us, carrying two plates heaped with brisket. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern. “Jay, I got somethin’ you might want to read,” he said. After he set the plates down in front of me and Kate with a flourish, he pulled a rolled-up paper out of his back pocket. “Looks like the harpy’s at it, again,” he muttered as he pointed to a headline.

  “Shit,” I muttered when I saw Hannah’s name under the salacious headline. “What is it this time?”

  Mac gave me a dark look. “She’s dragged someone else into it now,” he said sourly, shooting a meaningful glance at Kate. “You better get that ex under control, Jay.”

  Kate looked up from her plate. “What’s going on?”

  I sighed. “Just more stupid gossip,” I said. “Hang on.”

  But as I scanned the paper, my heart dropped. Oh, shit. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

  Chapter Eight

  Kate

  I frowned as Jay grabbed the paper and read it. His eyebrows shot up and he let out a stream of angry exclamations before slamming the paper down with such force that the silverware on the bar rattled.

  “Jay, what’s wrong?”

  He looked at me. “Kate, I am so sorry,” he said. “I promise, we’ll get all of this straightened out.”

  I frowned. “What the hell is going on?”

  Jay cleared his throat and pushed the paper towards me. Confused, I grabbed it. There was a headline about him seducing some drunken Americans, and I rolled my eyes and kept reading. Did he really think that a little gossip was going to bother me? But when I saw the picture, my jaw dropped. It was a grainy black-and-white shot of Jay carrying Lizzy, passed out in his arms, and my stomach iced over as I read the accompanying text:

  ‘Jay Walsh, footballer extraordinaire, has bit off more than he can chew with this one! It seems American sisters Kate and Elizabeth Romero had to jump across the pond to uncover this saucy British stud. Word has it that Elizabeth Romero, who’s studying at university here in Manchester, had a wee bit too much to drink last night! If you recognize her sister’s name, you’re not alone: Keeping Current With Kate is one of the top American women’s talk shows right now. Kate has a reputation for being an advocate for women’s rights, particularly on the topic of date rape, so over here at the Manchester Evening News, we’re having a hard time imagining just how much luck she’s going to have with that cause now. Would it really be a responsible move for Kate to let her little sister keep boozing it up with one of the country’s biggest playboys? Not exactly role-model material now, is she? Weigh in online: we’re curious to see what our readers think!’

  I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “This is terrible,” I said. “I have to call my producer. I’ll be right back.”

  Jay and Mac watched me leave t
he table with twin worried expressions on their faces. I felt panic rising in my throat but I didn’t want to give away just how afraid I actually felt. Something like this could potentially ruin my career, and if my reputation was damaged, I knew the showrunners wouldn’t want me to continue. I’d take another break, followed by a hiatus, followed by unemployment.

  Calm down, Kate, I ordered myself. You don’t know just how bad this is yet. Maybe it’s nothing.

  Noting the time difference, I called my head producer. It was early afternoon back in the States, and I hoped I’d be catching him in a good mood.

  “Hi, Kate,” Rod said as he answered my call. His tone was both annoyed and expectant. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, as you know, I’m on vacation in Manchester,” I said quickly. “And my younger sister, Lizzy, is studying here. She got a little too drunk the other night and we had to take her to the hospital. She got a ride with—“

  “Kate, can you please just get to the point?” Rod snapped. I blinked. He didn’t speak to me this way, even when he was really mad. Frowning, I wondered what had happened since I’d left.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “There’s a tabloid here that links me to a soccer player, and calls my reputation into question because my younger sister got drunk with a bunch of jocks. It’s in the Manchester Evening News. It’s a smaller paper, but they do have a website.”

  Rod was silent, and for a moment, I was worried that he’d hung up on me. “It’s fine, Kate, we’ll handle this, okay?”

  I was shaking with anxiety before I could even process what he’d said. “Okay,” I replied. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.”

  “Kate, as long as nothing like this happens again, it’s fine,” he said. “We’ll take care of it.”

  Even though Rod had been reassuring, I still felt shaky when I got off the phone. When I returned to the table, Jay was sitting alone, poring over the article.