Authors: Kyra Lennon
Blindsided
Blindsided
by Kyra Lennon
Blindsided © Kyra Lennon 2012
E-edition published worldwide 2012 © Kyra Lennon
All rights reserved in all media. This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.
All characters and events featured in this book are entirely fictional and any resemblance to any person, organisation, place or thing is purely coincidental and completely unintentional.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Becky Davies for answering my complicated questions about U.K laws – much appreciated!
Also, a massive thanks to Clare Dugmore, Leigh Covington, Nick Wilford, Abby Cavanaugh and Cassie Cook for all of your advice and kind words. You are the best CPs a girl could ask for!
Other books by Kyra Lennon
Game On Series
Game On
Praise for Game On
“
Game On is a moving, emotional, very real contemporary romance filled with fun, friendship, laughter, and a look on the human condition. Discovering why these characters act the way they do is an incredible part of the journey.”
–
Clare Dugmore, Writer
“This is a great book and a fantastic read - the story between the two main characters, Radleigh and Leah, is full of more twists and turns than the average romance, and keeps you guessing.” –
Annalisa Crawford, Author
Novellas
If I Let You Go
Praise for If I Let You Go
This is an amazing contemporary romance novella that makes you giggle, cry, and swoon. It has powerful cast of characters and a clean modern style. I highly recommend If I Let You Go to anyone who loves a good love story.
– Christine Rains, Author
Table of Contents
Chapter 3 – Fame Seekers, Users, Gold Diggers, and Cheats
Chapter 5 – You’re Such An Asshole
Chapter 6 – Everyone Is Good At Something
Chapter 7 – A Teddy Bear Disguised As A Player
Chapter 8 – Not That Kind Of Girl
Chapter 9 – I Hope She Can’t Read Minds
Chapter 10 – The Sound Of Sirens
Chapter 11 – Soccer Star In Drunken Brawl
Chapter 12 – A Different Story
Chapter 14 - Did Someone Order A Pixie?
Chapter 15 – We Laughed, We Kissed, We Swapped Numbers
Chapter 17 – What Happens In The Locker Room, Stays In The Locker Room
Chapter 18 – I Better Start Praying
Chapter 19 – It Would Take The Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter One – She’s Just A Girl
Jesse
Rain hammered against the window, jolting me awake. It took me a minute to work out why the walls were covered in flowery wallpaper, the clock was in the wrong place, and no bright sunlight streamed in through the gap in the pink -
pink?
- curtains.
Oh right. You’re not in L.A anymore.
I’d been warned about the British weather, and it
was
late November, but water should never make that much noise. Especially when I was trying to sleep.
Nine a.m. I’d hoped to sleep in a little later, still groggy from the eleven hour flight the day before. At the time, Hunter’s endless chatter had been an annoyance, but since I woke up at a reasonable hour, I was grateful for his hyperactivity keeping me conscious on the journey.
Flicking on the bedside lamp, I wondered whether I should get up, or stay in bed a while longer.
What’s the protocol when staying with your best friend’s relatives? Should I wait for Hunter? Or can I just get up and help myself to breakfast?
Is a full English breakfast something people get every day, because I could really go for one right now.
I couldn’t wait for Hunter.
Clambering out of bed, I shivered at the cold. I climbed into my jeans, pulled a t-shirt over my head and quickly combed my hair with my fingers, hoping I looked presentable enough.
The smell of bacon and eggs hit me as I opened the bedroom door, and I silently praised the breakfast gods for blessing me with such generous hosts. Mr and Mrs Mills were Hunter’s uncle and aunt, and they offered to let us stay in their Notting Hill home for a few weeks. Our trip was an end-of-year-escape-from-the-media gift from my parents after my first season at the Westberg Warriors. Since I’d been playing for them, the press interest in me had gotten a little out of hand, and even though I found it pretty easy to cope with, I was looking forward to walking down the street without having cameras shoved in my face. Technically, Hunter should have been in school until the end of December, but his straight A’s and perfect attendance record meant that his teachers were cool with him ducking out of classes early. I was pretty relieved. Where would the fun be in visiting England without my boy?
I shuffled into the kitchen, where Hunter was already shovelling toast down his throat while Mrs Mills fried bacon, eggs and mushrooms.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling. “Did you sleep well? Are you hungry? You do like bacon and eggs, don’t you?”
Unsure which question to answer first, I nodded. The answer to all of the questions was the same anyway.
“Take a seat, Jesse. Help yourself to some toast.”
Hunter had barely glanced up from his food until I sat beside him. He gave me a goofy grin, and said, “I forgot to tell you, Aunt Janet is an awesome cook.”
“Don’t expect this every morning,” she told us. “But as it’s your first day and I know you’ll be a bit jetlagged, I thought you’d like something to help you through your first twenty-four hours here.”
“This is really great, Mrs Mills. Thanks.”
“Please, call me Janet. I can’t be doing with all this formality.”
She bustled over to us, placing plates piled high with bacon, sausages, mushrooms, eggs, fried bread and hash browns in front of us. I’m pretty sure some drool escaped my lips at the sight.
“Okay, Janet. This looks awesome.”
She ruffled my blond hair. “Enjoy. I need to get ready, the girls will be home in a few hours and this place is a mess.”
I almost choked on my breakfast. Mess? There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Janet left the kitchen to … I don’t know … put some more crap in her hair to make it rock solid so it wouldn’t fall out of place, and Hunter and I tucked into our breakfasts.
“Aunt Janet’s pretty cool, huh?” Hunter asked. “Can’t say she doesn’t take care of her guests!”
“You think we can take her home with us? If my mom cooked like this, I’d never have moved out.”
Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Never knew you were into older women.”
I reached over and lightly punched his arm. “I’m not, but your cousins might be in trouble if they cook anything like your aunt!”
Back when I lived in Phoenix, I’d met Hunter’s twin cousins about five summers ago. We were thirteen, and Georgia and Isabelle were twelve. All I remembered about them was they were blonde, and they giggled a lot. I had to admit, I was pretty stoked about seeing them again. What normal eighteen-year-old wouldn’t be a little excited about meeting hot, blonde twins? They’d been away at some college thing when we arrived, but judging by the portrait of them that hung in the hallway, they’d grown into real hotties. My respect for my best buddy and his family meant I’d never dare to make a move on them, but I still enjoyed razzing him.
“Oh,” Hunter laughed, “you’re a real stud now, aren’t ya?”
“Don’t mock me! I’ve had many,
many
offers this year. No longer are you looking at the guy who couldn’t speak around pretty girls.”
I had one. Shame she was nuts.
A vision of Taylor swam into my head. God, she was perfect.
“Hey,” Hunter said, clicking his fingers an inch from my face. “Quit it. I wasn’t around to see what that bitch put you through, but I know she messed you up. Stop thinking about her.”
Weird how, even though we’d been separated for the best part of a year, he could still tell when I was about to wallow in self-pity. I guess a lifetime of telepathy is what you get when you’ve been friends with someone since birth.
“I’m over it,” I said. “Really. But it is good to know there’s no chance of running into her for the next four weeks.”
Westberg wasn’t big enough for both of us. She still hung out in the café across from the training ground, looking miserable. I hated how she always played the victim, like she wasn’t the one who screwed me over. It was all an act, like everything else she ever said or did.
“Jesse!”
I shook my head like an Etch-A-Sketch, erasing the picture of Taylor in my mind. “Sorry. I’m done now. Let’s talk about something else. Like your hot cousins!”
“If it gets your mind off the psycho chick, we can talk about whatever you want.”
Uncool as it was to admit, I’d really missed having Hunter close by. I thought for sure he’d forget about me once he found new people to party with. Instead, he’d buckled down with his schoolwork, and picked up extra shifts at the pizza place to save up for a flight to L.A.
I guess you should never underestimate the strength of a bromance.
I could barely move after breakfast. Eating that way was something I hadn’t done in a long time. I needed to stay in shape for the team. Since the season was over, I figured it couldn’t hurt to have a few treats.
Maybe not another fried breakfast for a while, though.
I showered and changed into something a little more presentable, then Hunter and I watched some British television in front of Janet and Andrew’s forty-two inch plasma screen. It was still too wet to venture outside, and we used jetlag as an excuse for bumming around while we waited for them to get back with the twins.
“Good to know TV shows are as crazy here as they are at home,” Hunter said, his finger hovering over the remote, ready to change the channel.
“No wait,” I said, “I wanna see how this plays out.”
On screen, some British talk show host on a Jerry Springer-like show yelled at a man about his drinking habits. He was a little over the top, but he sure made a change from the “let’s try to understand the insane person instead of judging him” types we were used to.
“Really? When did you turn into a middle-aged housewife?”
“Hey, I’m just absorbing the culture!”
“I don’t think this is a good representation of average families. For one thing, anyone with an ounce of self-respect wouldn’t be caught dead on one of these shows.”
He made a good point. I’d never understood the benefit of dragging family drama onto the television for the world to witness.
I mean, other than to make viewers feel superior.
“You’re right. Switch!”
Hunter grinned and navigated his way to the children’s channels, where he found classic
Spongebob Squarepants.
“That’s more like it,” he said, resting his bare feet on the coffee table.
When we were kids, we were obsessed with Spongebob, and seeing the show helped make England seem a little less far from home.
Before I even knew what had happened, the sound of someone coughing caught my attention.
What the hell …?
I blinked a few times before I realized I’d fallen asleep on the couch. Beside me, Hunter was snoring, and our sponge buddy still played on the gigantic TV. In the doorway of the living room, Janet smiled, and a pretty blonde giggled, probably at the fact I looked like an alien who’d been dropped from planet soccer into her super expensive living room.
Way to make a first impression.
I kicked Hunter, and he let out an eardrum-shattering snore before opening his eyes. We both leapt to our feet, and by this time, Janet and one of the twins were laughing uncontrollably.
“You boys are so cute,” Janet said, wiping tears from her eyes, “I bet you didn’t expect to find this when you got home, Georgie!”
Georgia shook her head, “No, I didn’t. Nice to see you’re both so excited about our return!”
I stepped forward to shake her hand. “Sorry. It’s good to see you again.”
She smiled. “Lovely to see you again too, Jesse.”
Hunter stumbled his way over, and pulled his cousin into a hug. “Hey Blondie One, where’s Blondie Two?”
“Isn’t it time you came up with more original nicknames for us?” Georgia asked.
“Probably. I’ll work on that while I’m here.”
She smiled up at Hunter, and it was then that I felt as though someone had sucked the air out of the room.
Blonde hair, just past her shoulders. Brown eyes, and a shy smile. She peered around the door, a slight blush on her cheeks.
You know that saying, ‘an English rose’? That’s what she was. Even with her hair dripping from the rain.
Hunter bounded over and hugged her too. “There she is, my other favourite cousin!”
She giggled. “Hi Hunter.”
“Isabelle, you remember my buddy, Jesse, don’t you?”
Isabelle nodded, her cheeks reddening more. I wanted to bundle her into a hug the way Hunter did, but she seemed so delicate and shy, I just muttered a pathetic hello.
You’re such a loser!
“Come on girls,” Janet said, “You should go and unpack, then we’ll go out for lunch. We can’t have Hunter and Jesse cooped up all day watching cartoons!”
I barely registered what she said.
How is it that I considered Georgia pretty, but Isabelle made my chest tighten?
They’re twins, dumbass! Identical twins!
“Are you checking out my cousin?” Hunter asked, nudging me, hard, in the ribs as Janet and the girls left the room.
“I … No, I …Maybe.”
“Dude, come on! We’re supposed to be out meeting hot British chicks, and you wanna get with my cousin? That’s not fair, you can’t give me details about hooking up with my relatives!”
Hunter and his sharing. Call me a pussy, but I thought there were some things my guy friends didn’t need to know. Hunter? His motto was, ‘If you can’t tell your friends, what’s the point in being a hit with the ladies?’ Not the most profound motto, but he lived by it. For whatever reason, girls went nuts for his brown curly hair. I suspected they’d have been less crazy about him if they knew they’d be the subject of his bragging the next day.
“I told you,” I said. “I didn’t come here to hook up, I came to relax.”
“So you’re not gonna hit on Georgia?”
“No. I’m not.”
I didn’t lie. I was definitely not going to hit on Georgia.
Lunch with the Mills family was pretty cool. Janet and Andrew took us to some trendy Notting Hill restaurant with low lighting, and silver tables and chairs. It wasn’t as intimidating inside as it looked, but Christmas decorations can make even the scariest place seem less frightening. As we drove down the rain soaked streets, the festive lights in the shop windows made the day brighter somehow.
The restaurant served amazing pizzas with the biggest variety of toppings I’d ever seen. We had almost the whole place to ourselves. I guess the rain had kept people away.
While we ate, I couldn’t stop myself watching Isabelle. She was so quiet, and only joined in the conversations when she really felt she had something useful to say. I kinda liked it. I’d met so many girls who chattered just for the sake of breaking the silence, and usually, every word was crap. Isabelle was not one of those girls.
In fear of sounding like a total jerk, I didn’t address her directly. I stayed pretty quiet most of the time too, preferring instead to watch the way her eyes lit up when she enjoyed a particular conversation, and the way her mouth curled into a smile when someone made her laugh. I really hoped she hadn’t noticed. I didn’t want to creep her out, I just couldn’t take my eyes off her.