“I know.”
“So, is there something I should know?”
“No.”
Luca rocked back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, weighing up his words. I wish he’d just blurt out whatever the fuck it was he was thinking because his silence was giving me anxiety.
“Seth, why do you think I invited you to come and stay with Elise and me while you got settled?”
Okay. Not what I was expecting. “Because you felt sorry for me?”
Luca chuckled and shook his head. “No. We invited you into our home, so you’d have someone around to lean on if you needed it. I’ve been where you are. Living away from home for the first time. The pressure of a big contract, feeling like a noose around your neck, weighing you down. Not wanting to let anyone down. Determined to make it, no matter the cost. Determined to be the best.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. Believe me, it’s not. But it’s okay too to not have it all on day one. You’re a lot younger than some of these guys. They’ve been around the block a time or two, and they understand things you haven’t even begun to figure out just yet. Physically they’re bigger than you.” I went to protest, but Luca just lifted up his hand indicating he wasn’t done. “You might be taller, but they’re tougher. Stronger. They’ve already taken the hits and lived to tell the tale. And you, Seth, you’ll get there. You have the potential to be better than all of us. You just need to be patient.”
“That’s not something I’m good at,” I muttered, hating that every word Luca was saying made sense.
“Then that’s where you need to focus. Get in the gym. Get some muscle on those scrawny arms and then focus on learning what you can from these guys. Angus played in the Premier League. Hamish played in Europe. Connor in Asia. They can teach you things you haven’t even thought about. Don’t get me wrong, Masters, you know how to play the game. You can read the ball better than anyone I’ve ever seen at your age, and you’re fucking quick on your feet, but that doesn’t mean there still isn’t a lot for you to learn.”
“Okay.”
“Now, Elise and I are going away for a couple of days. She wants to check out some wedding venue or something, I think it’s just an excuse to take off for the weekend, but who am I to deny her, so the house is yours. Try to relax. Don’t think about football or training or drills or stats or anything else that I know keeps you up at night. Give yourself a break. Have some fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah. Fun. You know, that thing that puts a smile on your face?”
“Okay.” I didn’t know what else I could say.
“And, Seth?”
“Yeah?”
“If you need to talk, about anything…football or life, I’m around. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Thanks.”
“And I assume you know where to find me.”
Luca stood up from behind his desk, picked up his man bag, and shoved a fistful of papers in it before moving towards me. “Thanks, Luca. I think I just need…”
“To get laid?”
“I was going to say, get out of my head for a while.”
“Same thing.”
Luca opened the door and the ruckus of the locker room filtered in. Sitting there with my mouth hanging open, I pondered Luca’s words. Maybe he was right. What he’d said made a lot of sense. Logically, I knew that. I just wasn’t completely sure how to put it into practice. But with three days off training in a row, I was definitely going to try.
Having the place to myself wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. After doing all the adult jobs I hated – laundry, changing my sheets, and cleaning out my stinky gym bag, something that was very much overdue, I ordered pizza and flopped down on my bed. I’d spent ten minutes sitting on the couch downstairs, but I felt like an intruder. It was different sitting down watching a game or a movie with Luca and Elise, but being in their house without them was anything but comfortable.
Lying on my bed, I grabbed my phone and shot off a text to a couple of the guys to see if they were up for a game tomorrow, before switching off the light and lying there like a loser in the dark. I don’t know how long I tossed and turned, but by the time I woke up at the arse-crack of dawn my bed was destroyed, and my foot was tangled in the sheets.
Kicking them off, I tugged back the curtains and looked out the window. It was another perfect Sydney morning. The sun wasn’t quite up and it was already warm out. Forgoing a shower, I grabbed my boardies, snagged a towel from the clean pile of washing overflowing the basket in the corner, and headed straight for the beach. Maybe I’d be able to burn off some of this energy before breakfast.
Diving under the waves, my board bobbed behind me, the water making sure I was definitely awake. The morning might have been picture-perfect but apparently the water temp hadn’t got the memo, and I was freezing my balls off.
Twenty minutes into my attempts at surfing again, I conceded it wasn’t as easy without someone out here to tell you what to do and when to do it. As much as Warner had come across as a tosser, he’d actually been helpful, not that I’d ever tell him that.
Shaking the water out of my hair, I picked up my board and headed back out into the waves after face planting into the sand on my last attempt.
“You right, mate?”
Turning around, I saw a guy with long blonde dreadlocks effortlessly slide onto his board and start to paddle out. “Yeah, I’m fine.” The last thing I wanted was strangers feeling sorry for me.
“You need a wetsuit if you’re going to keep trying.”
“You might be right. It’s fucking freezing out here,” I admitted.
“It’s only gonna get worse.”
“Thanks,” I replied before I copied my new friend, flipping my board and diving under the wave crashing on top of us.
Another couple of waves and I’d spat out another few mouthfuls of saltwater, and I was ready to call it a day. One last wave, I promised myself this was it. I was going to nail this ride then I was going to get some breakfast. Drifting beyond the breakers, I sat on my board as the early morning sun broke over the horizon, bringing with it a beautiful sunny day.
When I spotted someone taking on the dunes in a bright orange tank top and black leggings, I could’ve sworn it was Claire. I didn’t think she was back. I hadn’t heard from her since she’d gone home. Suddenly full of energy, I looked over my shoulder and saw the perfect set rolling through.
The waves were perfect.
My attempt to catch one however, was pathetic.
I missed the first.
Fell off the back of the second.
Caught the third only to be distracted while I was trying to right my feet, sending me toppling backwards and landing with a splat on my back in the shallow water.
Pissed off and embarrassed, I grabbed my board, angrily yanked the tie around my ankle and stomped up the beach. I was so frustrated with my shitty efforts; I didn’t even notice the woman standing beside my towel smirking at me until I was right in front of her.
“That didn’t look like much fun.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I grumbled.
13
Claire
I’d been running up and down the dunes for half an hour, trying to sweat the frustrations out of my body when I spotted my favourite lime green board shorts trying to surf. He wasn’t getting any better. If anything, he was getting worse. After my third stumble, I’d almost twisted my ankle so I’d done the safe thing and gave up before I did some actual damage.
Watching him stomp up the beach, obviously pissed at the world, I headed in his direction. When he finally spotted me, the scowl on his face fell away, replaced by surprise.
“That didn’t look like much fun,” I commented, trying not to stare at his abs as he patted them dry.
“No shit, Sherlock,” he mumbled miserably.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.”
“When’d you get back?”
he asked, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
“Late yesterday.”
“Oh. Thought you’d be staying longer.”
“So did I. Turns out there’s a reason you move out of home.” I shrugged, not feeling like getting into the nitty-gritty of it here and now.
“You mean it’s not worth moving back in with my parents, so I don’t have to do my own washing?” Seth teased.
At least he didn’t seem as pissy now. “Nah. Wash your own undies. It’s easier, trust me.”
As he tugged his shirt over his head, hiding those pecs I wanted to get my hands on, I wrapped my arms around my chest trying to hide my pebbled nipples. “So, what are you doing now?”
My heart sank. I wanted to say yes to whatever Seth was going to suggest. I couldn’t though. “Actually, I’ve gotta head home and shower. I’ve got some stuff on this morning.”
“Ah yeah, me too.” Seth shrugged it off like it was nothing.
“But wanna do something later on this afternoon? We can make the most of daylight saving. I mean, if you’re interested,” I babbled, hating the desperation in my voice.
“Sure. Sounds good. Give me a call when you’re finished if you want.”
Seth was lying as much as I was. It would’ve been comical if it was happening to anyone else, but it wasn’t. And it was bullshit. “No worries. Will give you a buzz when I finish up. It’ll probably be around three or so.”
Seth bent over and picked up his board, tucking it under his arm. For someone who spent more time coughing up all the saltwater he swallowed than actually standing on his board, he’d nailed the sexy surfer look. I couldn’t wait to see him pull off the sexy soccer star too. I had no doubt in my mind, or in my Google history, he’d look sexy as fuck in that too.
“Well then, I guess I’ll talk to you later,” Seth dismissed, sliding on his glasses.
Feeling like I’d been rejected when I don’t remember actually doing anything wrong, I untangled my own glasses from my hair and settled them over my eyes. I needed to get out of here before I said something stupid. “See you later,” I offered before turning around and walking away, not even bothering to wait for a reply.
I hadn’t lied. I had places to be and I couldn’t afford to let Seth’s mood swings derail me. He was worse than me when I was hungry and PMSing at the same time. Leaving him standing there was the best thing I could do right now. Picking up my pace, I started jogging along the beach, ignoring the surfers bouncing on the waves and the early morning seagulls playing in the shallows as I headed towards my car.
Determined not to be late, I pulled into the car park fifteen minutes before my shift started and started searching for a spot. I should’ve known better. Saturday morning was possibly the busiest time for the beachside café I’d managed to land a job at. Giving up on the car park, I drove a couple of streets over, parked, hoping to avoid a parking ticket in the two-hour spot, and rushed back.
Before I’d left to go home, in an act of desperation, I put my resume in everywhere and anywhere I could think of. I still wanted to be a hairdresser. At least I think I did. Maybe I just wasn’t good at failing and being so close to finishing my qualifications, but walking away seemed like a waste of all those years. I’d get back to it. I had to. But for now, I had to pay rent and eat. A girl had to have priorities, and mine was on my next meal.
Stepping into the café, I noticed it was already brimming with people and it wasn’t yet nine. Not that I could blame them, this place was amazing. Across the road was the beach and from the front deck, the view was unobstructed. Heavy white umbrellas provided shade from the early morning glare. People were dotted around the booths with their comfy canvas cushions while others perched on the bright stools at the bar sipping their mimosas, delivered in champagne flutes. Everyone was happy and smiling.
Isla, the owner who’d taken a chance on my lack of waitressing skills, spotted me from her perch behind the register and waved me inside. Weaving through the people, I stepped out of the way of a flushed looking waiter trying to balance a tray covered with my dream come true. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, yogurt buried under a pile of fresh raspberries and blueberries, my stomach grumbled embarrassingly loudly.
“You made it!” Isla beamed.
She was perfect for this job. With her strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail and minimum makeup, she looked impossibly refreshed and relaxed. Something I found odd for someone who owned all this.
“Yeah. It’s a madhouse out there.”
“Give it an hour or two and then you’ll see mad.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t look so scared. You’ll do fine. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Toby. I’m going to get you to shadow him today. See how we do things around here and where things are.”
“Sounds great,” I replied, relief flooding my body. The last thing I needed was to be left to my own devices and having no fucking clue what I was doing.
“Right, well follow me.”
Twenty minutes later and I had a black apron tied around my waist, a pen tucked through my hair, a cleaning rag in my hand, and was following Toby around hanging on his every word. Thankfully, he was a nice guy and didn’t treat me like I was a nuisance or in his way. He introduced me to the people I needed to know, like Mick behind the bar and the chefs Keith and Eva. We settled into a smooth rhythm and the morning flew by.
When Toby asked me to cover for him for five minutes while he ducked to the bathroom, I was flying high on confidence and agreed quickly. I should’ve known. I should’ve expected it. Life never went to plan. At least not my life.
Andy waved me over as he led a couple of guys to one of the corner booths in Toby’s section. Doing what I’d learnt, I grabbed a bottle of water, water glasses and tucked a couple of menus under my arm before heading over to greet them and introduce myself.
Taking my place at the end of the table, I watched as they unpacked wallets and phones into the centre of the table before they noticed me. They were a group of good-looking guys. Fancy wrist watches, expensive polo shirts, sexy as sin stubble covered jaws.
It wasn’t until I was setting the water bottle down, when my eyes locked with one of them and I fumbled, spilling water all over the table, the guy sitting next to Seth looked at me like I was the world’s clumsiest idiot. And when I thought things couldn’t get worse, Toby appeared beside me and saw the mess I’d caused.
Seriously.
Fuck my life.
14
Seth
I snorted.
I was trying so hard not to laugh at Hamish’s soggy crotch and the look of complete mortification on Claire’s beautiful face, that I actually snorted. Her cheeks burned as she grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the pocket of her apron and reached into Hamish’s lap trying to dry the wet spot.
I made it ten seconds before I reached over and grabbed her wrist, halting her. There was no way I was about to let her go near some other guy’s crotch, let alone Hamish’s. God help me. I’d never hear the end of it.
“Claire!” At her name, she dropped the soggy napkins on the table and took a step back, still refusing to meet my eyes.
“Shit,” I heard her mutter under her breath.
“Can you go get another bottle and I’ll get this cleaned up,” a guy asked, and Claire scurried away like a mouse while he pulled a rag from his back pocket and started mopping up the mess. “Sorry about that, guys. It’s her first day,” he offered apologetically.
The pieces were starting to fall into place. Now I understood why Claire had fobbed me off earlier, and although I understood, I wasn’t sure why she just didn’t come out and tell me she had to work. It wasn’t like I would’ve judged her for it. I knew how much she wanted a job. How much she needed one. Whether she was the CEO of the biggest bank in town or a waitress at my favourite lunch spot, didn’t matter to me at all. Maybe it mattered to Claire.
She appeared again, hovering behind the guy who I was wishing would just pi
ss off. I’d rather Claire tip that bottle over my head than have to deal with this guy, but I couldn’t embarrass her. Not in front of the others anyway. I was sure we’d laugh about it later, but for now, I’d let it go.
“I’m so sorry about that, guys. Can I get you a round of coffees on the house?”
“Nah, we’re fine. You’re used to having a wet mess in your pants, aren’t you, Hamish?” Angus chuckled, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“Piss off wanker,” Angus replied before turning back to the waiting waiter. “I’ll take a large cappuccino. Two sugars please.”
After we all added our coffee order, Claire and the other guy disappeared, leaving us with the menus.
“She was cute.” Hamish shrugged.
“She tipped a bottle of cold water in your lap, and you’re still thinking about hitting on her.”
“Better fucking not be,” I growled out before I realised what I’d done.
“Do you know her?”
Shit! How the hell was I going to talk my way out of this one? “What was with your half-arse effort this morning? That tackle was pathetic.”
“Nice try, changing the subject.”
“It was worth a shot,” I shrugged.
Thankfully, the guy appeared with our drinks, and as much as I wished it was Claire, I wasn’t keen on having my flat white ending up in my lap, burning my balls. While I was busy being thankful my balls were dry, the guys were doing their best to bust them. And I wasn’t really sure why they thought they could talk. The next hour over fresh-caught fish and perhaps the best beer battered chips I’d ever had; they gave me shit about Claire.
“It’s not like you can talk,” I tossed back in their faces multiple times. None of them, not one had a girlfriend or even a girl that came back for seconds.
“Well, your game ain’t that great either, Casanova, by the looks of it. Seems since she gave Angus a shower, she’s hiding from you,” Hamish taunted.
Rookie (Playing The Field Book 2) Page 8