Striker (37 page)

After brief interviews with both managers, and a couple of players from both teams – including Ryan – Amber returned to the Players Lounge. And this time it was alcohol, not coffee, she turned to, a cold glass of lager hitting the spot.
 

‘You look like you need that,’ Jim smiled, joining Amber at the bar.

‘Shouldn’t you be giving your boys a post-match team talk or something?’ Amber said, not sure she wanted to be this close to him in a room that was at breaking point with people, including fellow reporters. And she knew the way
their
minds worked.
  

‘They did a great job out there this afternoon. They don’t need me to tell them that. I’ll leave them to celebrate with Ryan’s ‘Man of the Match’ bottle of champagne.’

Amber’s heart did a tiny leap at the mention of Ryan’s name. ‘What are you doing in here, anyway?’ she asked. ‘We don’t normally see managers so soon after the match. You’ve usually got other, more important things to do.’

‘Do you… do you want me to leave or something?’ Jim said, turning to face her.

‘Well, to be honest, this probably isn’t the best place for us to be seen together, is it?’

‘We’re friends, Amber. Everybody knows I’m close to your family, what’s so strange about me sharing a drink with you after a game, huh?’

‘Because it isn’t that simple, is it? And it never has been.’

‘You were so good at keeping things secret back in the day, honey. What’s changed now you’re all grown-up?’

‘I’ve developed a conscience.’

‘Because of Ryan?’

She stared back at him, her heart skipping that beat again but she had no idea why this time – because of the mention of Ryan’s name? Or because Jim was there? So handsome and charming and doing everything he could to take over her life all over again. Because she’d let him.

‘Don’t make an already difficult situation any harder, Jim. Please.’

‘I need to see you tonight.’

‘And I need to be with Ryan.’

‘Does he need to be with
you
?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Come on, Amber. They’re organising a big night out at some new club that’s opening in the city centre. You think Ryan’s gonna turn that down? After the game
he
had this afternoon? He’s the man of the moment, honey. He’ll want to make the most of that.’

‘You sound as if you’ve almost encouraged him to get out there.’

‘I need to see you, Amber. Alone, away from here, away from the threat of anyone seeing us.’

She finished her drink, pulling her jacket back on as she got ready to leave. She was well aware that she’d opened up these floodgates once again, but she still hadn’t quite worked out how to handle it all just yet. ‘I’m going home, Jim.’

‘Is that it? Amber, come on…’

‘
My
terms this time, Jim. My terms. And if you don’t like it, then you know what you can do.’

*

Ryan sank down into the ice bath, the freezing cold water shocking his skin, tightening every muscle with immediate effect as he waited for the numbness to take over. Within five to ten minutes the icy water would’ve caused his blood vessels to tighten, draining the blood from his legs and as squeamish as that sounded, this ritual was a much-used technique in modern sport. Ice baths were an important part of the recovery process for most sportsmen, not just footballers, helping the muscles, tendons, bones, nerves and all the different tissues used recover from whatever workout they’d been a part of. A quick-fix body MOT, a way of repairing all the necessary parts needed for the next match. And that derby match had been one hell of a workout, with Wearside Spartans players becoming quite brutal and indiscriminate with the tackles by the end of the game. Ryan felt more battered and bruised than usual, and he could do without the aches and pains tonight.

He was planning to go home first, see Amber, gauge her mood,
see
how the land lay. Although, he had every intention of heading out with
Gary
and the lads, no matter what mood she was in. He’d already made that decision. He cared about Amber, and when he told her he loved her he meant it. But love wasn’t a definitive word as far as Ryan was concerned. It had many meanings, on so many levels. You could love someone without wanting to spend every waking minute with them, couldn’t you? Besides, she seemed in no hurry to tell him she loved him back. If she’d reciprocated his declaration maybe that would have made a difference to the way he was feeling, he didn’t know. What he
did
know – or what he felt, anyway – was that she was hiding something from him. But then, who was he to call her out on that one when he was guilty of hiding things from her, too? Jesus, this was one messed-up relationship, and maybe he should be working on that, trying to sort it out rather than throwing himself back into the nights of partying and excess. Maybe he should, but he wasn’t going to. Not yet.

Immersing himself completely in the freezing water for a second – not because it was necessary, more because he hoped it would clear his head – he finally emerged from the icy-cold and stood up, shaking the remnants of water from his body before stepping out of the bath, grabbing a towel to cover his nakedness.

‘Hey, here he is. Man of the frigging Match,’
Gary
grinned, slapping Ryan on the back before handing him the bottle of champagne given to the recipient of the much-coveted award. Especially on derby days. ‘Time to celebrate, mate. You gonna do the honours?’

Ryan looked at the bottle, remembered how it had felt to score those two goals, and returned Gary’s grin, shaking the champagne bottle vigorously before popping the cork, cheers ringing out around the dressing room as the amber liquid spurted out of the neck in a cascading arc of bubbles. This was why he loved this game so much – the elation it was possible to feel when you were that player who scored the all-important winning goal, the feeling of camaraderie being part of a team could create. It was possible to feel on top of the world on days like this and no way was Ryan going to let that end by spending the evening at home, not when there was an army of people out there just waiting to congratulate him, spend time with him – tell him how incredible he was. He loved Amber, but he loved this feeling more. This was his life, and she was just going to have to find a way to fit into it.

*

Sitting on the edge of the bed Amber held her left leg out in front of her, turning her foot one way then the other, examining the brand-new ankle boots she’d bought on the way home. Black, simple in design, but with a heel higher than anything she’d felt brave enough to wear before, she’d fallen in love with them instantly. Hey, she might still be that tomboy, deep down inside, but she could still scrub up when she wanted to.

She smiled to herself as she stood up and walked over to the huge, full-length mirror at the other side of the room, smoothing down the short, mint-green dress she’d also bought on her spur-of-moment shopping trip. The perils of a lunch-time kick-off that meant the shops were still open once everything was over. Yeah, she looked okay. Actually, she looked better than okay, she thought, as she pulled her dark red hair up off her face, piling it on top of her head and fixing it with a couple of hair grips. Not bad, considering she’d had the kind of day that would usually have seen her running for the bubble bath and a bottle of wine.

The doorbell ringing caused her to break away from admiring herself and run downstairs, momentarily forgetting that she was doing so in five-inch heels, grabbing onto the banister the second she realised.

‘Whoa! Look at those legs!’ Ryan whistled, looking her up and down.

‘What happened to using your key?’ Amber asked, standing aside to let him through.

‘It’s in the bottom of me bag, babe. Thought it’d be quicker to just ring the bell. And I’m glad I did, when you answer it looking like that.’

He slid an arm round her waist, pushing her back against the hall wall, kicking the front door shut with the heel of his boot as his mouth lowered down onto hers in a long, slow kiss, his hands falling onto her backside within seconds.

‘Have you been drinking?’

‘Jesus, Amber, you look like my fantasy woman but you sound like my mother. I’ve had a fucking amazing day, babe. Two goals, Man of the Match, adulation wherever I go… I’m the returning hero, the local lad who helped Red Star win the first local derby of the season so, yeah, I’ve had a drink. Of course I’ve had a drink. In fact, I’ve only come home to get changed…’

She wriggled free from his grip. ‘For Christ’s sake, Ryan. After everything I said before…’ She started to walk back upstairs, but he quickly followed her.

‘Hey, baby, come on. You were there; you saw what the atmosphere was like.’ He followed her along the lengthy landing, into their bedroom. ‘I’m on a high, Amber.’

She swung round to look at him, her eyes asking him a silent question.

‘Jesus, no, Amber. No. Not
that
kind of high, shit! I mean, the kind of high you can only get when you have the kind of game
I
had today.’

‘Then maybe you should piss me off more often. It seems to bring out the best in you.’

‘Shit! Come on, babe. You know what I mean. I’m hyper, Amber. I can’t come down yet, and staying in tonight would just be so fucking frustrating. I’ve got to get out there, get this out of my system…’

‘Have you heard yourself, Ryan? Yesterday morning you were desperate to be with me yet now you can’t wait to get back out of the house to have a waiting brood of over-made-up soccer stalkers throw themselves at you.’

‘Hey, cut me some fucking slack here. You’re beginning to sound like one long broken frigging record. What is this? Max is away for a few days so you’ve taken it upon yourself to be my own personal bodyguard, is that it? Spying on me…’

‘I’m not
spying
on you, Ryan. I’m trying to save you from yourself.’

‘Well, spare me the sanctimonious crap, okay? I don’t need Max issuing the orders and I don’t need
you
keeping an eye on me. You got that?’

Amber glared at him, an anger she really hadn’t wanted to feel rising up in her, but she wasn’t going to give him the benefit of seeing just how angry she felt. Was he really so blinkered, so selfish that he couldn’t see history repeating itself? And was she just wasting her time trying to make sure it didn’t happen?

‘Do you know what, Ryan? Please yourself. Do what the hell you like because I’m really not in the mood to care right now.’

‘Amber…’

‘Hey, if
you
don’t care about the fact you could be throwing your career away then why the hell should
I
?’

‘Jesus Christ, are we not making this more of a frigging drama than it needs to be? Amber…?’

But she’d gone before he had the chance to say anything else, running downstairs to the kitchen, glad – for once – that the house was so big she had room to get away from him. Half of her still wanted to stop him from doing what he was going to do, because she knew that the mood he was in meant he’d probably do things he was going to regret later – or maybe not. She was beginning to doubt what she really knew about him, despite everything Debbie had told her. But, when he was acting like this, she couldn’t handle it, couldn’t handle
him.
 

Noticing her phone lying on the counter-top she grabbed it and began scrolling down the list of numbers until she came to Debbie’s. She’d bumped into her in the Players Lounge after the match and Debbie had asked her if she’d wanted to join her and a few of the other wives and girlfriends for a few drinks in town. At the time Amber had declined, believing that she and Ryan were going to have that cosy night in
she
craved and
he
needed, but now it was evident that wasn’t going to happen what was the point in moping around on her own all night? She might as well make use of those new boots and get out and enjoy herself. After all, Ronnie had told her she should loosen up a bit. And she felt like loosening up a lot.

A quick exchange of texts with Debbie and Amber’s rearranged night was planned. And she was strangely looking forward to it, now she’d finally made the decision to go.

‘I’m off.’

She looked up at the sound of Ryan’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, all handsome and cocky and sexy-as-hell in jeans, boots, a white t-shirt and a dark-brown leather jacket. Bastard! She was still so angry with him, even when he looked that hot.
 
‘I won’t wait up.’

‘Amber, please. Don’t be like this.’

‘Don’t be like
what
, Ryan? Don’t care about what you’re doing to yourself? Don’t care about the fact you’re dangerously close to revisiting a past that you shouldn’t be going anywhere near?’

‘For fuck’s sake, will you just leave it alone? I’m quite capable of looking after myself…’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yes. Really. I’m not going back there, Amber. And even if I was, they were some of the best days of my life.’

Amber gave a cynical laugh, folding her arms and throwing her head back, shaking it. ‘If that’s the way you feel, why did you ask for my help, huh?’