Play Maker (6 page)

M
y legs burned
as I raced across the field, maneuvering the ball like it was an extension of my foot. Sweat dripped down my forehead – even though it was only ten in the morning, the day was already hot, sun blasting onto the field where we were practicing. But this was exactly what I needed to clear my head after last night. I still couldn’t believe what had happened. And I couldn’t get Nicole out of my mind. Those eyes. Those lips. Those
curves
. Fuck.

I ran faster, feeling my muscles cry out for release, but I ignored them. I’d run until I forgot her. Until I got her out of my mind. She was just another one night stand. I had other things to focus on.

We were just over a week away from the exhibition game set up by the Major League Soccer in an attempt to drum up more nationwide interest in the sport. I would have told them that their first mistake was calling it ‘soccer’ and using ‘football’ to describe a game where a player’s foot rarely came in contact with the ball. But what did I know? I was just one of the top players in a sport beloved by his entire nation.

StubHub, the field where we were practicing and where the game would take place, was the home of the Los Angeles Galaxy team. They were pretty well know for snagging Beckham several years ago, though even his star power hadn’t done much to improve the nation’s love of the game. It was clear they were hoping an entire team from the UK might garner some attention.

The management was also being entirely unsubtle about the possibility of stealing players from our team. Staging a Beckham 2.0, or something similar. Ethan had mentioned that several dinners had already been scheduled for him, taking place at very expensive restaurants.

“Why are they taking
you
out to eat?” I asked him when he told me. “Isn’t the point to impress me?”

“They probably think I have sway over you,” he said wryly. “That if they butter me up, I’ll advise you to take the contract. Clearly they have no idea who they’re dealing with.”

I thought about that as the wind rushed through my hair, a sudden breeze making the weather absolutely perfect as I kicked the ball in a smooth arc, and watched it sail through the air, just out of reach of Rick’s outstretched fingertips. I loved the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net. And luckily I got to hear it quite often.

“Bollocks.” Rick pushed himself off the ground where he had landed, leaping across the goal in an attempt to block the ball. But he wasn’t mad. After all, at the end of the day we were on the same team and my wins were his wins. “You’re lucky I’m hung over.” He grabbed the ball and headed towards me. He was covered in grass stains. Then again, so was I. It wasn’t a good sign if you came out of a practice with your uniform still pristine. Several other teammates streamed past us, exchanging pats and high fives over a good practice game. Rick fell into stride next to me as we headed into the locker room.

“Aren’t you always hung over?” I asked Rick, only half joking. His drinking had definitely grabbed the attention of not just me, but several of our teammates, some of whom were exchanging knowing glances with me as we entered the locker room. Even the management seemed to take notice.

“Come on, mate,” he swung his sweaty arm around my shoulder. “What’s the point of being an international celebrity if you can’t use it to get free drinks and loose women?”

“Just make sure you save some for the rest of us,” someone called from across the room.

“Ha!” Rick pointed at the heckler, #76, Dante, a recent addition to the team. “Now that’s the spirit I’m looking for,” he said, leaving me at my locker and heading towards his new best friend. “Let me tell you about the place I found last night—”

The locker room buzz faded around me as I got dressed, focused on the meetings I had that afternoon. Meetings no one knew I was taking. It was true that the Los Angeles Galaxy had been courting me pretty hard, but what they didn’t know, what no one except Ethan knew, was that I was pretty sure this exhibition was going to be my last professional game.

I was ready to retire. Which was crazy, considering I was at the peak of my career, and theoretically could leverage a threat of retirement into a much bigger salary and potentially more endorsements, but I was getting tired of it all.

Glancing back over at Rick, who was now entertaining a crowd of younger players with his sexual exploits, I remembered when I had been like them. Young and green and completely thrilled with all the attention my newfound fame afforded me. It was intoxicating. And Rick had been more than happy to take me under his wing. And he had been a good mentor. He had been at the top of his game then, and I had been grateful for his generosity of knowledge. Knowledge not just about the game, and how to navigate contracts and coaches and expectations, but also how to take full advantage of the fame I had been catapulted into.

But lately, I had begun to grow bored of it all. Not just bored, kind of embarrassed too. Looking at Rick, a man who was nearly ten years older than I was, someone whose best athletic days were now far behind him, take advantage of his position to cheat on his wife and then divorce her and drink to excess, well, let’s just say, I wasn’t really looking at him as a role model any more. And definitely not a mentor. A part of me really wished I could still confide in him the way I used to, get his opinion about all the decisions I needed to make about my career and my future, but I no longer thought that he would be advising me to make decisions that would benefit me. My very public womanizing had been hiding his private behavior for a while now. He needed me around. If I left the team, if I left football, well, he would either have to find a way to be more discreet, or he’d have to stop fucking around. I had a hard time imagining him capable of doing either.

I left the locker room and the detailed account of Rick’s latest sexcapade behind and headed outside, looking for Ethan. As always, my best friend was waiting patiently, his attention directed at his extra, most necessary, appendage: his phone.

Ethan and I had been friends since we were kids. His mom was American, his dad British, and he had dual citizenship, taking tons of vacations back to the states, which made me insanely jealous. We had met playing soccer, though it didn’t take long for Ethan to realize he was much better off the field than on. He always excelled at that kind of stuff. Finances, schedules, keeping things running. We complimented each other pretty well and when I went pro, it was the easy choice to make him my manager. There was no one I trusted more with my career.

“We’ve got three meetings lined up for tomorrow,” he told me as we headed back to the hotel. “Three different charities that would be interested in having you as a spokesperson.”

“And you’ve vetted them?” I wanted to know. “They seem legit?”

“They’re totally legit,” he confirmed. “And since you didn’t really give me too many guidelines for what kind of charity you wanted to work with, I’m giving you a few options.”

“Great.” I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I usually wasn’t this exhausted after a practice, but I had pushed myself extra hard trying not to think about Nicole. And now that I had stopped moving, that my mind had a chance to settle, memories of our night together came back in full force.

And I still couldn’t believe that she had left. I kept trying to tell myself that she had done me a favor, that I would have been escorting her out by the morning anyways. That tactic wasn’t working. And I still wanted her. That had never happened before. One night stands had always been easy for me. Easy to obtain, easy to forget. And most of my partners never had a problem with that. So why was I still thinking about Nicole?

My ego was bruised, I decided. That was it. The reason I couldn’t stop thinking about her had nothing to do with her. I was just being a right cock about the whole thing. And the best thing for me to do was to find someone else tonight.

But for some reason that didn’t sound appealing at all. Instead, I kept thinking about going back to the bar. Which was a terrible idea. Just awful.

“You know,” Ethan began, breaking the silence. “StubHub isn’t a bad field.”

I opened one eye. “Galaxy upped their offer?”

He nodded. “It’s kind of obscene now.”

It had been pretty ridiculous before, I could only imagine what they were dangling in front of Ethan. “Do you think I should take it?”

He paused. “You’ve been saying for almost a year that you want to retire.”

“Yeah,” I opened my other eye. “But is it the right thing to do?”

Ethan shrugged. “I’m just your manager, mate. Call a therapist for deep questions like that.”

I laughed. Even though I wasn’t surprised he wasn’t trying to pressure me into taking a new contract, I was still grateful. It would have been a lot of money for him too, but it was nice to confirm that our friendship came first.

He was also the first person to smack some sense into me when I needed it. And right now, with my mind continuing to return to Nicole – the eyes, the lips, the curves – I was pretty sure I was overdue for a right solid smack.

“Hey.” I turned my head to look at him. “Got plans tonight?”

“Dinner with one of your sponsors later,” he told me. “Why?”

“Want to grab a drink in a few hours before you have to go?” This was probably a terrible idea, but since when had that ever stopped me? “The service at the hotel bar is fantastic.”

I
was sweating like a pig
. I know that plenty of people found hiking relaxing, but I didn’t see what was relaxing about being hot and thirsty. But that was probably just me. Of course, Maya and Mikey looked like they were having a blast.

It was a rare morning that Maya and I were both off, so when she offered to take Mikey and I hiking, I couldn’t say no. Mikey absolutely adored Maya and for a kid that loved TV as much as he did, he was pretty excited to get off of the couch and onto the trail.

Both of them were up ahead, Mikey gripping Maya’s hand and chatting animatedly as we headed up Runyon Canyon, one of the best places to hike in Los Angeles. It was barely 10am, but it was already a scorcher. Luckily we had brought plenty of water, most of which I was currently sweating out of every pore on my body.

I huffed and puffed as I hurried to catch up to Mikey and Maya, who had now stopped at the top of one of the trails. It was dusty and dry up here, but even I couldn’t deny it was a beautiful view of a beautiful city. I was glad that Maya had suggested this hike and especially glad that Mikey was having a good time. Spending time with both of them was a rare treat and I intended to savor it.

When I got to the top of the hill, Mikey was recounting the plot of his favorite episode. “And then, the Doctor and Clara are attacked by the Weeping Angels. But the Doctor has a key. Do you know where the key was?”

“Where?” Maya asked, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

“Under his wig!” Mikey exclaimed, waving his hand towards his own hair.

I couldn’t help smiling at him. He had insisted on putting on his own sunscreen that morning so there were smudges of white around his nose and ears. I resisted the urge to rub it in.

“His wig?!” Maya’s eyes went wide with astonishment even though she too had seen this episode at least three times. “That is amazing, Mikey.”

“It’s the best episode ever,” he said, with a firm nod.

“It has to be,” Maya readily agreed before turning to me. “You doing ok there, pal?”

I was still breathing pretty heavily and had my hands on my knees while I tried to catch my breath. I threw her a thumbs-up.

“Just great,” I managed to wheeze. “You guys set quite a pace.”

“Not me,” Maya put an arm around Mikey. “This guy is faster than the TARDIS.”

Mikey beamed up at her and my heart melted at the two of them. My favorite people, on top of a mountain, in a city that I loved. Despite the heat and my sore legs, I suddenly felt pretty great.

“You know what,” I said, giving Mikey’s baseball hat – with the Doctor Who logo, of course – a tug. “I think we’ve earned a treat.”

“A treat?” Mikey’s eyes went big.

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I think we’ve earned some ice cream. In a cone.”

“Ice cream?” An ice cream cone was a rare treat for us, but I felt that we had earned it. Plus, those tips from the other night had made quite the positive dent in next month’s budget, so I felt that we should splurge a little.

“Yep,” I told him firmly.

Mikey’s smile was enormous and he launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hugged him back as tightly as I could.

* * *

L
ater that night
at the bar, I was surprised to see James. And how my pulse quickened at the sight of him. He’s hot, I reminded myself. And you’re still horny. Of course you’re going to start sweating when you see the guy who gave you the hottest orgasms of your life and made your knees weak to boot.

But that didn’t mean he was going to have the same opportunity tonight. One night stands were one night, as had been decided in the slut rulebook.

Instead, I smiled my bartender smile when James approached the bar with a friend, the guy from last night who had looked like a proper, if not stuffy James Bond. He was in a suit, while James was in another tight t-shirt and extremely well-fitted jeans. I imagined everything he was wearing was very expensive – probably costing more than my mother’s old Honda Civic – which served as yet another reminder why going to his room a second time would be a very bad idea.

“Whiskey?” I asked James, grabbing a glass from the wall, before taking a moment to regard his friend. “And a very dirty martini for you.”

The friend’s eyebrows went up. “Cheers,” he said, his accent not as thick as James’ but just as charming.

“Told you the service here was superb,” James said, his eyes never leaving me, his words full of meaning. Meaning I tried to ignore, but the rest of me forgot to be strong and my skin tingled.

“Ethan, this is Nicole,” James made the introductions while I made the drinks. “Nicole, this is Ethan, my manager and mate.”

“Nice to meet you.” I didn’t really understand why he was introducing me to his friend and from the look on Ethan’s face, he was equally perplexed.

“Likewise.” Ethan gratefully took the drink I gave him. He took a sip. “Great martini,” he said.

“Told you she was good.” James winked at me and I rolled my eyes.

He was laying it on a little thick. I expected more from a notorious playboy like him, but then again, men were men. I was pretty sure that not many women turned him down, especially not women who he had just had sex with. If I was a betting woman, I would bet that it was more his wounded ego that brought him back to the bar, rather then some intense connection that he couldn’t fight. Then again, I was pretty good in bed. Either way, he wasn’t going to get a second chance with me. One night stands were one night. That was the rule. No repeats. No exceptions.

But damn, if he wasn’t looking pretty fricking tempting right now, those blue eyes undressing me across the bar. My knees wobbled a little bit.

“Shite,” Ethan had looked down at his watch. “I’ve got to get going,” he stood, clasping James on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” he said before looking up at me. “Don’t let this guy give you any trouble,” he said with a knowing grin.

James gave him an overly offended look. “Trouble? Me?”

I shook my head. “I can handle this one,” I told Ethan.

“No doubt,” Ethan confirmed before slapping a twenty down on the bar. “Damn good martini.”

Even though I knew my cocktails were great, it was still nice to have it confirmed. “Thanks,” I said and waved as he made his way out of the bar. Since it was only five thirty in the afternoon, James was now the only one left. And he was looking at me like he was ready to lock the door behind his friend, lift me up on the bar and have a repeat performance of last night.

My body was screaming yes, yes, yes, but I told myself to remain strong.

“So your manager is your best friend?” I quirked an eyebrow at him.

“My best friend is my manager,” James corrected. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.” He took a sip of his drink. “Neither of us have siblings, so we’re basically like brothers. Do you have any siblings?”

It wasn’t exactly subtle, but small talk at the bar wasn’t pillow talk.

“One brother,” I told him. “Mikey.”

“Younger?”

I nodded. “The best guy I know.”

“Funny,” James winked. “That’s what Ethan says about me.”

I laughed. “Really earning that 15%, isn’t he?”

He winced. “Ouch! I’ll have you know, I’ve been told I’m very charming by people not on my payroll.”

“Your parents don’t count,” I shot back.

James leaned back. “Bugger. Well, I’m sure I can find someone who thinks I’m a bit of alright.” He glanced around the bar. “Anyone? Anyone?”

I bit back a smile.

His eyes swung back to me. “What about you?” he asked.

“You’re…fine.” I told him, having fun playing along.

“I bet I can up that ‘fine’ to ‘fiiiiiiiine’,” he challenged.

“Oh really?” I leaned forward. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

“By giving you something you want.”

My skin went hot.

“And what do I want?” I asked, my throat going dry as I watched him reach into his pocket. And pull out a packet of gum. He slid it across the bar. Doublemint. My favorite.

“I noticed you had a bit of a gum thing the other night,” he told me.

I blushed. Was it that obvious?

“I—”

He held up a hand. “No. Never apologize for an oral fixation.”

I burst out laughing and smacked him with my bar towel.

“So,” James said, swirling the rest of his whiskey around in the glass. “Someone told me that there are some pretty good waffles to be found in this hotel.”

“I’ve heard that as well,” I said as I pocketed the gum, unable to help the way my voice seemed to warm towards him, as if I was the one drinking whiskey.

“They even claimed that these waffles are better then sex.”

“That’s what they say,” I tried to keep my hands busy, looking for glasses to clean.

“What do you say?” James wanted to know, leaning against the polished wood.

“I’ve never tried them actually,” I confessed and his eyebrows went up, a joke clearly forming on his lips. “The waffles, that is,” I added quickly. Now was not the time for sexy teasing.

“I would be happy to share that first time experience with you,” James winked. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

But I didn’t want him to be gentle. Oh no. I wanted him hard and rough, up against the wall, my hands pinned over my head, my ankles around his waist. I wanted him bending me over the bar, his hands tangled in my hair, his cock sliding deep inside me.

I could feel a blush rise in my cheeks as my legs trembled with the desire that coursed through me.

“I can’t,” I told him, even though I wanted to. But I had given myself rules for a reason and it was to protect me from getting hurt by guys exactly like James. Guys who were down for a good time when it suited their schedule, their needs. “Last night was great,” I tried to explain. “But I just don’t have time for anything…too complicated.”

“What’s complicated about two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company? Naked. Several times. With waffles,” James said playfully, but saw that I was serious and held up a hand. “I understand,” he told me and the teasing was gone from his voice.

“Thank you.” I felt some of the tension leave my body, but the desire didn’t. I still wanted him, but that was besides the point now. Even if I changed my mind, a guy like James rarely gave second chances, let alone third.

But he surprised me, leaning forward and catching a curl between his fingers. “I’m here for another week,” his voice was low and sent a tingle through me. “If you ever want a nightcap, you know my room number.”

Before I could respond, he stood, tossed a couple of bills on the table and sauntered out. I hated to see him go, but I sure enjoyed watching him walk away.