Play Me (Brit Boys Sports Romance Book 4)

by J. H. Croix

  A quick scan around, and I deduced I’d slipped my way clear. Last thing I wanted was Coach to find out I’d stumbled into a fight, so I headed outside into the rainy Seattle darkness. I tugged the hood from my jacket up and turned to walk to my flat when I heard my name. “Ethan Walsh?”

  I turned back to see a police officer standing beside one of the bartenders. Bloody hell. I nodded politely. “Yes, sir.”

  I might have just accidentally punched someone, but I had manners. Fat lot of good they did me. Before I knew it, I’d been bundled into the officer’s car and watched while another officer stuffed the two guys whose fight it had actually been into another car. The officer who seemed to be in charge of me was friendly enough.

  “Mr. Walsh, as far as I understand, you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Problem is, the guy you hit is pretty upset about the whole thing and drunk to boot, so he’s not listening to reason. We’ll get to the station and sort this out. There were plenty of witnesses who report you walked right through and took one on the jaw first.”

  The officer jabbered on a bit, while I put my face in my hands and sighed. Great, fucking great. I don’t know how long it was until we arrived at the station, but I immediately declared I needed to talk to someone. Friendly though the officers were, the arse whose fist bounced off my face was none too happy about his bloody nose. I made quick call to Tristan, my flat mate who’d had enough sense not to be out at the bar tonight. He chuckled and assured me he’d call Coach and get someone from the team sent my way.

  I was a player for the Seattle Stars, a US football team spending big bucks to sign footballers from all over the world. Correction: soccer team. There were many bits I’d come to love about America, but their silly idea to call another sport—an inferior one I don’t mind saying—football was a constant irritation. The rest of the whole wide world of sports called football football, but in the US it was soccer, or no one knew what you meant. Anyway, hard to believe it but I was an elite player and had lucked into this team after a solid pro start back in Britain. Downside to all this meant it wouldn’t be too great for me to make a ruckus for my team. Our Coach—whom I respected, I truly did—had little tolerance for players getting into silly messes.

  I leaned my chin in my hand and waited. They’d deposited me in a room that didn’t have much of anything in it, other than a table and a phone. I don’t know how long I waited, but out of the dead silence in the room came a sharp knock. Before I managed to fully stand, the door swung open. I almost knocked my chair over when I saw Zoe Lawson in the doorway

  Zoe stepped into the room, closed the door behind her and walked briskly to the table, sitting down and eyeing me. “Hello Ethan,” she said.

  I sat down and bit back the sigh that wanted to escape. Zoe Lawson was a criminal defense attorney I’d met a bit ago when she helped Alex Gordon with his assault charges after he hauled off and punched the asshole who’d raped his girlfriend a few years prior. Alex was one of my mates from Britain and the goalkeeper for the Stars. Alex, being Alex, had assault charges for a hella good reason. Me, well, I didn’t even know if I was charged with anything yet, but all I’d done was basically walk into someone’s fist and react.

  Now, here was Zoe. Zoe was, well, she was flat beautiful. I don’t know if she was the most beautiful woman ever, but she was to me. She was also slightly terrifying. She stood close to six feet tall with legs that went on forever. Although she must’ve rolled out of bed to come meet with me, she looked tidy and professional in a navy jacket over a fitted skirt that fell to her knees. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a sleek knot, not a single tendril escaping. Her gorgeous hair was paired with hazel eyes and fair skin. The only thing that softened her was her face—she had a wide, full mouth, eyes that tilted at the corners and rosy cheeks.

  Oh, and the last time I saw her, I’d kissed her. I’d encountered her by chance when I was leaving a restaurant. I’d had a few beers and didn’t give a damn about her standoffish attitude at that moment. I’d taken full advantage of how surprised she looked when she saw me and just kissed her right there in the hallway of the restaurant. For a flash, her mouth had softened and she’d arched into me. Sanity must’ve hit her, but not before our tongues did a quick dance. Definitely not before I’d felt every inch of her flush against me. That brief taste had ended with her shoving me away and glaring at me before she stalked off. I hadn’t seen her since.

  I looked across the table and felt caught between impulses. On the one hand, I wanted to walk around the table between us and untie her hair. I’d fantasized a few times about what that gorgeous hair might look like loose, but all I could do was imagine. The unflattering fluorescent lights couldn’t even dim its brightness, streaks of gold winked out amidst the rich auburn.

  On the other hand, I felt a bit foolish. The hands of the simple black and white clock on the wall above the door told me it was approaching one-thirty in the morning now. I didn’t have a good explanation for why I’d ended up in this little mess, but here I was, wondering how to explain myself to Zoe.

  Bloody hell. Zoe Lawson commanded any room she stepped into. She exuded brilliance and confidence and wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. It was no wonder I wanted her like mad.

  I didn’t realize I was just sitting there like a dolt until Zoe drummed her fingers on the desk.

  “Can you handle a simple hello?” she asked, a tad sharply.

  Oh, that did it. I straightened and eyed her.

  “Hello Zoe. What brings you here this evening?” I asked, leaning heavy on the haughty in my tone.

  Zoe arched a brow and leaned back in her chair. “It’s morning Ethan, and you apparently managed to get yourself in a little fix. Coach Hoffman called and asked me to come meet with you.” She paused and glanced pointedly at her watch. “At 1:30am.” Her gorgeous hazel eyes—layers of green and nutmeg swirled together with flecks of gold—lifted to mine again. Her gaze ensnared me, and she had to clear her throat to snap me back to attention.

  “Aye, I suppose it’s a bit late, or early, depending on how you look at it,” I finally managed.

  She inclined her head slightly and pulled a small notebook out of her purse. “Tell me what happened.”

  I quickly summarized and couldn’t help but grin when her lips twitched. I wasn’t grinning because any of it was funny. No, rather I loved getting under her skin like I had with that kiss. It wasn’t easy though. I had to credit her there. But the corner of her mouth curled up, just the slightest bit, and I loved it. Blood shot straight to my groin.

  Pay attention, mate. Not the time to get all randy.

  “Ethan, tell it to me straight. Did you really walk right into the middle of a fight? Because I’ll be honest, it sounds a bit ridiculous.”

  I eyed her, thinking I didn’t really want to keep talking about this. I knew it sounded bloody ridiculous, but it was the truth.

  Chapter 2

  Zoe

  Ethan Walsh looked over at me with a half-grin and a shrug. Even a half-grin from him was devastating. Insouciance was the word that came to mind whenever I encountered Ethan. He carried himself with a teasing, devil-may-care manner. Pairing that with his tousled golden locks, flashing green eyes and body made for sin made him downright dangerous. Layer on his British accent, and it added up to way too much charm and temptation. He ruffled me in more ways than I liked to consider.

  I’d only met him a few times and always in situations where the last thing on my mind should be anything to do with sex. Case in point—now. It was the middle of the night. I should be tired and cranky. Instead, I was on fire inside. All he had to do was look at me, and it was a direct shot of lust straight in my veins. To make matters worse, the last time I saw him, he kissed me. Inside of a few seconds, he’d left me hot and bothered. I hadn’t forgotten that kiss, no matter how hard I tried. This annoyed me to no end. I didn’t have time for men, much less an international sports star who was well known for being a relentles
s flirt. Hell, his nicknames in the press were Golden Boy Brit and Magnum.

  My wandering eyes—naughty, willful eyes—took in his muscled shoulders and chest. Dear God, even his hands were sexy—strong and just battered enough you knew he could work magic with them. I heard a low chuckle from him and whipped my eyes up, feeling my cheeks heat. Dammit! I didn’t need a sexy soccer star thinking I was ogling him.

  “Should I repeat my question?” I asked, internally cringing at my bitchy tone. My default mode tended to be bitchy, especially when it came to men.

  Ethan ran a hand through his rumpled hair, tossing a sheepish grin my way. The lower side of his jaw was slightly red. I presumed that was from the fist he allegedly walked into.

  “No you shan’t. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s what happened. I was walking out and wasn’t paying attention.”

  “So you walked into the guy’s fist?”

  Ethan threw another sheepish grin my way, a dimple appearing in one cheek. Sweet hell. He had a dimple I’d never even noticed. It only added to his roguish charm, which he already had in spades. My pulse was buzzing and heat slid through my veins. Even worse, I could feel the moisture at the apex of my thighs. This was a problem. I was contracted by the Seattle Stars on an as needed basis. My prior interactions with Ethan had been conveniently brief. With the exception of that out of the blue, knee buckling, body melting kiss. Well, that was brief too, yet so memorable it was seared into my brain and body. If he were actually charged with something over this silly bar fight, I’d have to spend much more time with him.

  Potential epic disaster in the making as far as my sanity was concerned.

  I opted to completely ignore my body’s reaction to Ethan. Kind of hard to do seeing as my belly was doing somersaults, and I was getting so hot I needed a fan. But hey, I loved a challenge.

  “So we’re going with this whole stumbling into a fight then. I haven’t had a chance to speak with the police. They sent me straight here when I arrived. When I do talk to them, will they tell me witnesses said otherwise?”

  “Absolutely not,” Ethan said, straightening in his chair. “I feel a bit foolish, but it’s what happened.”

  His gaze was sober and earnest, his typical insouciance gone. I promptly discovered this was more dangerous than his teasing manner. A man as obscenely handsome and drool-worthy as him didn’t need to be nice on top of it all.

  What the fuck are you doing? Wipe the drool off your chin and do your damn job. If you do it well enough, you won’t have to worry about seeing much of Ethan at all.

  The next voice that tried to pipe up got kicked to the curb. That voice wanted to ask how come I was so damn determined not to even consider the possibility of a man in my life. Given how attractive Ethan was, it wouldn’t be bad to enjoy some time between the sheets with him. I almost laughed hysterically. Don’t even go there.

  By sheer force of will, I met his eyes and nodded. I believed him, despite my inclination to give him a hard time. As I looked across the table, I found myself mesmerized by his eyes. They were a rich shade of green. Behind his teasing façade, I sensed there was more to the image he projected.

  Didn’t we just agree we weren’t going there? You can’t seriously be thinking Ethan would ever go for a woman like you. He’s all about models and fun, not about a career-driven woman who works almost non-stop. Not to mention, the last thing he wants to deal with is an almost-thirty year old virgin.

  He arched a brow, at which point I realized I was staring. I uncrossed my legs, immediately crossing them again. This had the unfortunate effect of drawing my attention to the fact the silk of my underwear was drenched. Great, just great. Ethan Walsh, a man I didn’t want to want, had the ability to make me wet whilst sitting in a drab room at the Seattle Police Station.

  This was annoying beyond belief. What had he just said? Oh right.

  “Okay then. Well if that’s the case, we should be able to clear this up right away.”

  I stood so quickly I knocked my chair over. Ethan was beside me in a flash. He caught the back of the chair in his hand and swung it back in place. Ever the teasing gentleman, he winked when he caught my eyes. He was too close. Even though I’d maybe been in close vicinity with him no more than three or four times, he was always a tad closer than I expected. He exuded strength and masculinity. My pulse bolted—if this was a race, my pulse was determined to win. I took a step back and bumped into the table.

  Ethan’s gaze held mine and then dipped down in a blatant perusal of my body. I should’ve been furious. If there was one thing I’d worked my tail off for, it was professional recognition. Instead, I was furious with myself for the subtle flush of enjoyment at knowing he noticed anything about me. The recollection of the feel of his lips on mine and his hard muscled body against me sent a hum through me. My skin prickled with heat under his attention—it was as if his gaze was caressing me. When his eyes meandered their way back to mine, my breath caught and my belly clenched, heat unfurling inside my core and radiating outward.

  I forgot everything I’d been in the middle of. Hell, I forgot why I was there. Ethan stood just close enough, my brain simply fuzzed out, while my heart beat a wild, staccato rhythm. He lifted a hand, tracing a finger along my jaw and down the side of my neck. It was the hottest fucking thing anyone had ever done. I could feel the subtle roughness to the pad of that lone finger, all of my senses attuned to it. His touch was like a blaze of fire on my skin. I was hot all over and nearly melting inside.

  I don’t have any idea how much time passed, but his voice snapped me into awareness.

  “Zoe luv…”

  His pause dragged out just long enough, I feared he could hear the wild pounding of my heart. After a few beats where I could hardly breathe and desire rolled through me in a crashing wave, he finished his sentence.

  “I shall have you one way or another.”

  Laced with his haughty British accent, his tone with a touch too confident for me. I was suddenly furious…and more turned on than I’d ever been in my entire life.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” I said, straightening my spine and glaring at him, doing my damnedest to ignore the thrumming need inside.

  He grinned, a slow, devastating grin that made my insides do cartwheels and left me so hot and bothered I could barely think.

  “We shall see about that,” he said as he dropped his hand away.

  I instantly missed the feel of that single point of contact. My eyes—damn eyes—had a mind of their own and flicked down, promptly noticing he was aroused. Very aroused. His cock was outlined against the faded denim that hugged his body like a lover. When I tore my eyes up and collided with his gaze, I saw the hint of devilry there and nearly ran from the room.

  Chapter 3

  Ethan

  “Please do explain,” Coach said with a shake of his head as he eyed me.

  I sat on the opposite side of his desk, while he idly tossed a ball back and forth in his hands. Coach Bernie Hoffman was a good guy. He also used to be the lion of football, excuse me soccer, back in his day before he retired and started coaching. In the year plus since I’d signed with the Stars, I’d come to respect the hell out of him. Unlike my last coach back in Britain, he had little tolerance for shenanigans. But he wasn’t an ass about it. He never was. Hence, I felt foolish. Again.

  “Coach, it’s as I said. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I stumbled right into the middle of that fight. I’ll fess up I was a bit sloshed, which is why I wasn’t paying attention. But I swear, the other guy clocked me first. I can’t believe he’s pressing charges. Zoe suggested I could press charges in return, but that seems bloody ridiculous. Have you talked to her?”

  The second I said Zoe’s name, an image of her flashed in my mind—her cheeks flushed and her green eyes dark when I teased her. I couldn’t help myself. Bloody hell. That woman was so fucking hot, I almost got hard now thinking about her. Coach interrupted my lascivious train of thought.

  “She
emailed me sometime before the sun came up.” He paused and shook his head again. “She didn’t even hesitate when I asked her to go to the station and meet you at one in the morning. I hope you thanked her.”

  When he paused, I knew he expected me to say something. Affirmative, of course. As I mentioned, I had manners. “Absolutely. I thanked her several times.”

  Coach nodded slightly before continuing. “So yes, she sent an email giving me a status update. She doesn’t seem concerned about your charges, and in fact, was pretty clear she thought you should push the issue with the police. She plans to go talk with them this morning when she can speak with a supervisor. My concern is this guy figured out who you were and might be thinking he can squeeze some money out of you.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from swearing. Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. “Are you serious? I didn’t even think about that.”

  Coach nodded slowly with a roll of his eyes. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit. Anyway, Zoe will take care of it. If it’s as you say, we shouldn’t need to worry.”