Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)

by Avery Wilde

  I nodded. “The one and only,” I said in a joking tone.

  The girl’s jaw dropped and I could see her friends giggling and blushing behind the counter. “That girl is so lucky,” she managed to say. “What kind of diamond rings?”

  “Engagement rings,” I said. The words felt clunky in my mouth. “Do you have any matching sets, with wedding bands?”

  The girl nodded mechanically. I could tell she was thinking: Oh my god, Jay Walsh is going to propose to some girl! And I get to help pick out the ring!

  She led me over to the corner of the store that was marked ‘Engagements & Celebrations’. There, under the glass counter, she pointed to a few trays of rings.

  “Tell me a little bit about her personal style,” the girl said. “We’ll want to make sure whatever you choose reflects something that she’d really like.”

  I thought about Kate. “Well, she’s a stunning brunette,” I said. “With a fabulous wardrobe and lots of great shoes. She’s a girly girl. Like, I don’t think she’d be much for camping. And her sister had to drag her to one of my matches.”

  The salesgirl burst out laughing. “Oh my god,” she said. “She didn’t even want to go to a match? That’s so funny.”

  “I managed to charm her anyway,” I said with a roguish grin on my face, and the girl blushed and pulled out a tray of heavy-looking rings.

  “These are all two to three carats,” she said, pointing at the giant diamonds in the tray. “She’d definitely know that you spent a lot of money on one of these.”

  I looked at them. They were beautiful, but something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t about the amount of money I spent, it was about picking something that I knew Kate would love. “These are lovely,” I said diplomatically. “But I’m not sure that this matches with Kate’s style. She’s….a little more subdued than this.”

  “How about these?” The girl put the first tray back and pulled out a second tray. “These are between one and one-and-a-half carats.”

  My gaze immediately went to a simple solitaire ring, with an oval-shaped diamond. The band was platinum, and I could tell that Kate would love it. It was exactly like her: elegant, unfussy, perfect.

  “She’d love this,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

  The salesgirl looked up at me with a grin on her face. “Do you know her size?” she asked. “And don’t worry, Mr. Walsh…we might giggle and stare a little bit, but we’re very discreet here. We won’t be calling the media or anything.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said with a smile. “And I have to admit, I’m not sure on the ring size, though think her fingers are almost exactly the same size as yours, if that helps.”

  Ten minutes later, I strolled out of the jeweler’s shop, clutching a small bag and box containing Kate’s ring. I didn’t want to think about how crazy it was to propose to someone that I hadn’t even known for four weeks yet, but I knew how I felt and I could tell Kate felt the same way. As soon as I could fly across the pond to visit her when the season was done, I was going to get down on one knee and make an honest woman out of her.

  She didn’t have to give up her career or anything else, because I was willing to give up mine if that’s what it took. That’s how much she meant to me already.

  I felt like I could fly, like I could do something magical. I had a match later in the day, but I wasn’t even thinking about it—all I could think about was Kate. My car smelled like her hair, and my flat smelled like her delicious, sweet perfume. My cock stiffened in my pants when I thought about how my bed would smell; like a heady, musky blend of her and me.

  I whistled to myself as I slid back into my Mercedes and pointed the car towards my flat. It was still early in the day; I had time to get in a good workout and manage to eat a decent lunch before the match. Plus, I wanted to call Connor. I felt bad that I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him about Kate when I’d last seen him, and I wanted him to know what I was doing, even though I expected a lot of ribbing. The last time Connor and I had talked about women, I was pretty sure I’d told him to take me out to pasture and shoot if I ever asked some bird to marry me.

  But things were different now. I couldn’t wait to introduce Kate to my oldest friend. I had a feeling they’d get along.

  After I’d returned home and eaten lunch, I grabbed my mobile out of my pocket and dialed Promising Light.

  A snide-sounding receptionist answered the phone as soon as I picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hey, I was hoping to speak with Connor Callaghan. He’s my best mate, I just dropped him off yesterday.”

  “Name?”

  “Jay Walsh,” I said as politely as I could manage. “I just want to talk to him for a few minutes, I have some good news for him that I want to share.”

  “We do try to encourage friends and family to share positive news,” the receptionist replied. I grimaced; it sounded like she was reading a canned reply from a piece of paper in front of her.

  She set the phone down for a few mind-numbing minutes. I couldn’t help it; I kept picking up the little green box that contained the ring and taking a peek. It was perfect for Kate, and I couldn’t wait to see her expression when I dropped to one knee and asked her to be my wife.

  “Hello, Mr. Walsh?”

  “Yes?”

  “Connor will be right here to take your call. We advise that you speak for ten minutes or less,” the receptionist said in an icy tone. “He has therapy to get back to.”

  “Of course, sorry for pulling him away,” I said.

  There was a pause, and then she was gone, replaced by Connor.

  “Hey, mate!” He already sounded a million times happier than he had the previous day, and I could tell he was excited just to talk to me.

  “How’s it going?” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Between my best friend finally getting the help that he desperately needed and Kate, I was so happy that I thought I might burst.

  “Fine,” Connor said. He lowered his voice. “The food here is shite, though. I had no idea I’d be eating such rubbish!”

  I laughed heartily. “You’ll be fine, mate. You could stand to lose a few stone!”

  “A few stone?” Connor pretended to be outraged. “Anyway, you didn’t call to ask me about the food. What’s really on your mind?”

  My mouth went dry. “I met a woman,” I said. “A few weeks ago. Her sister dragged her to one of my matches. She’s bloody beautiful, and we’ve been spending all this time together, and—”

  “I can hear the wedding bells already,” Connor said in a dreamy voice. We both snickered. “So when do I get to meet this beauty of yours?”

  “As soon as you’re all sorted,” I said. “I can’t wait to introduce you to her. She’s amazing.”

  “I bet,” Connor said. Then he snickered. “So, are you asking my permission, or what?”

  I laughed. “Hardly, mate,” I replied. “I’ve already got the ring in my hand.”

  Connor laughed out loud. “That’s my Jay, you don’t waste a freaking second.”

  “I should have thought of this before she left,” I said. “I should have asked her this morning.”

  “Wait, she’s not British? Good job,” Connor said. He was laughing again. “These British girls are too uptight for you, mate. Where’s she from?”

  “New York,” I said. “She’s a TV host, she has her own show and everything. She had to fly home this morning to take care of some things—I actually just dropped her at the airport an hour or so ago—but I’m flying over there once the season is over.”

  “So, are you going to become a Yank?”

  I snorted. “Hardly,” I said. “But I don’t care where we live, as long as I get to stay with her.”

  “Well, that sounds great. You got lucky, mate.”

  I grinned. I was in such a good mood, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this amazing. “So, what’s life like at Promising Light so far?” I asked.

  Connor pretended to snore. “Not exactly
fun,” he admitted. “Wake up at six, breakfast, therapy, more therapy, lunch, play time, therapy, dinner, bed.”

  I laughed. “Are there any cute birds?”

  Connor snorted. “No,” he replied. “I wish. That would make the whole thing more bearable. But they keep us split up. I don’t think they want us pairing off with any fellow addicts, which is fair enough.”

  We were silent for a moment. “Connor, I’m glad you’re there,” I said after a pause. “I’m glad you’re getting help. I know you really needed it, and thank you for not turning me down.”

  There was a commotion in the background and Connor told me to hold on for a moment.

  “Hold on,” he repeated when he got back to the phone. “Some bloke turned up the telly and it’s on loud! Oh….shit.”

  I frowned. “What’s going on?”

  Connor didn’t reply. A bad feeling wormed its way into my stomach and up my throat. “Connor, what’s going on?” I repeated.

  “Turn on the news, mate,” Connor said in a clipped voice. “I’ll wait right here.”

  With my heart pounding in my chest, I strode over to the TV and flipped it on. The news was on, and I turned up the volume to ‘high.’

  “Reporters are standing by at Manchester Airport, only moments after Lufthansa Flight 2670 experienced a mid-air collision with a landing plane, Air France 207, shortly after take-off. Officials are already attributing the incident to a communications misunderstanding, and also to the poor weather conditions over the last few days—conditions that have left several flights grounded for the last two days.”

  I gaped at the screen.

  “Flight 2670 was bound for New York City, and it was a full flight. The plane it collided with was arriving from Paris, and currently, the number of survivors from either aircraft is unknown.”

  Icy terror shot up my spine, and the little green box went rolling from my hand.

  I was so numb that I didn’t even hear it hit the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jay

  “Mate? Are you there?” Connor’s voice sounded distant and far-away from my ear and I realized I was holding the mobile a good meter away from my head.

  “I have to go,” I said quickly as I hung up the phone. My brain was instantly ablaze with horrible thoughts—Kate on the plane, terrified for her life as the engine gave out. Kate shrieking, pushing past other passengers, trying to get to an exit. Kate unconscious, lulled into a dull, uneasy sleep by the plane’s rapid descent.

  A plane crash was my worst nightmare. I hadn’t ever told any of the other blokes on the team about my fears, but every time we traveled I feared the worst. Every time I closed my eyes I thought the plane would break apart mid-air, would crash to the ground in a spectacle of fuselage and tin. I shuddered just thinking about it. My heart was racing and my blood had gone cold; it felt like my whole body was broken out in a cold, uncomfortably sweat.

  I had to get to the airport, and I dashed to the door and grabbed my trainers, stuffing my feet inside and grabbing a jumper. My keys were still in my pocket. It was surreal to think that the last time I’d been inside my car, I’d been driving home, planning on how to pop the question to Kate.

  Now I had no idea if she was even alive.

  Don’t think like that, I urged myself. Don’t think like that and everything is going to be okay. She’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay, just stay calm, breathe, breathe Jay, breathe.

  But deep down, I knew I was kidding myself. Mid-air collisions were a serious incident, and they carried a very low survival rate.

  I hadn’t felt this much adrenaline or fear in my whole life. Now I was suddenly worried about everything. If I lost Kate, I didn’t want to continue with anything. I couldn’t play football or continue carrying on like I had. All I wanted was her, and I wanted her for the rest of my life. I wanted her to be safe, I wanted her in my arms. I wanted her in my bed, every night, ready for a kiss goodnight. I wanted her at every single one of my matches, and I wanted to watch every episode of her show.

  “Please be okay,” I muttered under my breath. “Please, please be okay, Kate.”

  Leaping into my car, I slammed my foot down on the gas and drove as fast as I could to Manchester Airport. It was just outside of the city, but the streets were mobbed with traffic and emergency vehicles headed in the same direction. I knew it was selfish, but I wanted to get there before anyone else.

  I thought about calling Lizzy, but I realized there wasn’t time, not while I was driving. My chest kept aching like I’d just missed at scoring a massive goal, and I had to remember to breathe. Breathe, Jay, just keep driving and breathe, I thought. Easy does it. This will be okay. Just get there and she’ll still be alive.

  I found myself praying, something I hadn’t done since I was a little boy in Belfast. I’d been raised a Catholic, and even though my parents hadn’t been particularly observant, Catholicism had its own kind of lure. I remembered learning how to go to communion and confession, the ominous dark church with heavy wooden accents, and the prominent smell of incense. I also remembered the way that girls would float past me in their white dresses and veils, ready for first communion.

  It brought back a powerful memory.

  “Jay, hurry up,” Mum was saying. “You don’t want to be late. You’ve studied so hard and I hate to think that you’d miss your own confirmation!”

  “Hurry up, son,” Dad added. “Don’t stress your mother.”

  Eagerly, I fastened my dark red tie around my neck and stepped into the patent leather shoes Mum had bought just for the occasion. We didn’t have a lot of money at home, but I wanted to make a special impression. My childhood hadn’t been spectacular, and now I was worried that I was going to embarrass myself in front of everyone. After all, church hadn’t come easy to me. I’d been an easily distracted child, a child who spent way too much time playing outside. All of my friends were quiet and obedient, except for Connor. I liked Connor, but Mum called him a troublemaker.

  “Mum, can I go to the pictures after church?” I looked up at my mother’s beautiful face. Her features were youthful and radiant—I got my blue eyes and brown hair from her. Dad was a redhead, with warm brown eyes and laugh lines around his mouth. He was big and strong and I wanted to grow up to be just like him.

  “If you’re a good boy,” Mum promised. She slipped some coins into my hand. “And don’t spend all of this at once, you hear?” She squatted down to my height and looked into my eyes. “You promise me, Jay.”

  I nodded. “I promise,” I replied.

  I ran out the door, skipping and playing in the street. As a kid, I had boundless amounts of energy. Mum and Dad were always irritated because I could never sit still.

  “That’s right,” Dad said mildly as my parents strode past me. “Get all of your crazies out before we can get to the church. You’ll have to behave yourself inside, son.”

  I laughed and whirled around in circles, kicking imaginary footballs at my feet. Ever since I could run, I dreamed of being a football player for some famous Irish team. I wanted to make money and bring all of it home to Mum and Dad. They didn’t have a lot in life, and I wanted to take care of them like they’d taken care of me.

  “Jay,” Mum was calling. “You’d better come with us now, we’re going to be late!”

  Darting across the yard, I scrambled into the backseat of Dad’s old Fiat. He drove to the church with careful precision, as if he knew that this was the day his son would become a man.

  It was spring outside, and hotter than anything, but inside the church always felt cool and hushed. I lowered my eyes as Mum guided me inside, helping me to one of the pews in the front where I’d sit with the other boys and girls getting confirmed.

  Her eyes glistened with tears and she looked at me proudly. “I can’t believe that you’re my son,” she said, with a sad smile on her face. “I always wanted so many children, but you’re the only one we had. And you’re so special, Jay. You’re all I
need.”

  My cheeks reddened and I pulled away before any of the other boys could see my mother fussing over me. I knew that they probably had to deal with their own mothers doing the same thing, but being seen like that would be mortifying.

  My best mate, Connor, slid in next to me at the pew, and he poked me in the ribs. I started giggling. Father O’Donohue, the priest, glared at me and I shushed instantly.

  “Look at that old penguin,” Connor whispered in my ear. He pointed to an older nun who had fallen asleep in the corner of the church. “She looks like she decided to get to heaven a little bit early!”

  I lost it. Peals of childish laughter filled my ears and when everyone grew silent, I realized the sounds were coming from me. From the back of the church, Mum and Dad were glaring.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” I mumbled under my breath. He nodded and moved on, but I still felt like everyone was staring at me, and I slumped down in the pew and stared at my new shoes. They were already scuffed and dirty, like everything else that I owned. Shame burned like a brand. I knew that I’d somehow managed to embarrass my family again, even without trying.

  The rest of the ceremony was a blur. I stood up with the other boys and took communion, then we lined up in the back of the church for confession.

  “This is a very special day,” Father O’Donohue was saying. He folded his hands together in front of his chest. “This is a very special day indeed. This is the day that you become men and women in the eyes of the church, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father,” we chorused in unison. “We understand.”

  One by one, we slipped into the small confessional booth to confess our sins. When it got to be my turn, I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Knock ‘em dead,” Connor whispered in my ear. But even with my best friend’s vote of confidence, I still felt like I didn’t deserve to be here.

  The inside of the confessional was even darker than the rest of the church. A carved wooden screen kept me separate from Father O’Donohue, even though I knew he could tell it was me.