Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy)

by Michelle Betham

  *

  Amber sat on a bench overlooking the River Tyne, the cold autumn air penetrating the material of her coat and she pulled the collar up to shield the back of her neck from the cool breeze that seemed to be growing stronger as the afternoon wore on.

  She didn’t have to work late that night. Not really. She’d had quite an easy day, if the truth be told. But, for some reason, she’d felt the need to lie to Ryan – why? Because she was scared of what she was starting to feel for him? Or was she scared of the fact that she just didn’t want to spend as much time with him as she’d first thought. Because of someone else.

  Cupping her hands around the steaming carton of coffee she’d just bought, she continued to stare out at life going on all around her, the bustling atmosphere of the Quayside somehow pulling her back to reality, giving her some kind of clarity. She couldn’t let Jim Allen back into her life. She couldn’t. It would be stupid, it would be wrong. Why would she put herself through all of that again? When he’d only hurt her, just like he’d hurt her before. He wasn’t going to change. Not now. But Ryan, he just might. If she gave him a chance.

  She took a sip of hot coffee, sitting back against the wooden bench, the low November sun hitting her face. Shielding her eyes she watched the steady stream of people walking across the Gateshead Millennium Bridge – a stunning pedestrian and cyclist tilt bridge that linked Gateshead’s Quay’s arts quarter on the south bank and Newcastle’s Quayside on the north. She loved this place. She never really wanted to leave the North East, it was her home. But the reappearance of Jim Allen had tarnished everything slightly. He was a distraction she had to forget about, before it took over again. And she could do that. It would be hard, but she could do it. She had to. She had no choice.

  Taking another sip of coffee she thought about what Ryan had asked her that morning. He was trying really hard, she knew that. He was trying really hard to prove to her that he wasn’t that playboy the tabloids would have you think he was, and that was sweet. But who was he kidding? He couldn’t switch all of that off just like that. He was a twenty-six-year-old professional footballer with the world at his feet, so no matter how much he told her he’d changed, she wasn’t going to hold her breath. She’d just enjoy what they had and take each day as it came. What else could she do? At least Ryan provided a decent distraction from Jim. And any distraction was better than none at all.

  She put her coffee to one side and pulled her phone out of her bag, looking at it for a few seconds. Should she call Ryan? Tell him she wasn’t working late? Tell him she had that better offer for him after all? One he wouldn’t be able to refuse? Her finger hovered over his number for a few seconds as she looked up at the river again, the sun bouncing off the water, making her squint slightly. No. He’d probably made plans now, anyway, and she didn’t want to be one of those girlfriends who made him feel guilty about going out with his friends just because she was now at a loose end. She wanted him to spend time with her because he wanted to, not because he felt he had to. No, she’d leave it. She’d see him tomorrow. They could do something together then, if he had nothing else planned. She’d go and see her dad tonight; spend an evening catching up on things.

  Stuffing her phone back in her bag she picked up her coffee and stood up, walking slowly along the Quayside, one hand shoved deep in the pocket of her coat. Now she’d given herself that silent talking to she felt better about everything. So maybe now it was time to finally begin the rest of her life, without Jim Allen constantly being at the forefront of her mind. Maybe now it was finally time to start living.

  *

  Ryan closed the door and leaned back against it, closing his eyes as a surge of uncharacteristic guilt swept over him. Maybe he should have been stronger, but when you had a whole afternoon stretching out in front of you with nobody to spend it with and nowhere to go, what else was he supposed to do? Training had finished not long after lunch, and after a quick pint in the pub with Gary and a few of the other lads he’d had nothing else to do but amuse himself. And he’d managed that, although, if Amber found out just how he liked to amuse himself he wasn’t sure she’d stick around long enough to hear his explanation. Not that he had one, anyway.

  Walking over to the mirror he stared at his reflection, quickly wiping the faint dusting of white powder from underneath his nose. He looked tired, too. Mind you, who wouldn’t after the afternoon he’d had?

  Running a hand through his ruffled dark hair, he smiled. Jesus, he was one good-looking son-of-a-bitch! It wouldn’t take much to get him back up to full strength – all he needed was a cool shower, some clean clothes and a splash of something expensive and he’d be ready to hit the town. He may not have been all that keen on the idea this morning, but now he couldn’t wait to get out there and see what the night had to offer. And if it brought anything even close to the afternoon he’d just had, Ryan Fisher was going to be one very happy man. One very happy man indeed.

  *

  ‘Hey, kiddo,’ Freddie Sullivan smiled, closing the front door behind her. ‘You look very relaxed, I have to say.’

  Amber gave her dad a half-smile, looking at him out the corner of her eye. ‘Are you saying I look stressed-out most of the time?’

  Freddie laughed, taking the bottle of wine she held out for him from her. ‘No, Amber. I’m not saying that at all. Can I not pay my little girl a compliment now and again?’

  ‘Yeah. Of course you can,’ Amber smiled. ‘And yeah, I am feeling quite relaxed as it happens. It’s been a good day. Something smells great by the way. What are we having for dinner?’

  ‘Roast beef and my home made Yorkshire puddings. Do you remember how your mam used to love my home made Yorkshire puddings? Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, sweetheart, but we’ve got a guest.’

  ‘A guest?’ Amber frowned as she followed her dad into the living room, her heart stalling in her chest as she saw just who that guest was.

  ‘I invited Jim over. I haven’t had a chance to catch up with him properly since he got back to the North East, and he’s on his own up here so I thought it’d be nice to have him over for dinner. Let him spend some time with old friends.’

  Amber’s eyes met Jim’s, her stomach turning a million somersaults as she swallowed hard.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you, Amber?’ Jim asked, standing up and smiling that smile, a smile that sent Amber’s heart into overdrive as she remembered the last time she’d seen him. The way he’d touched her, kissed her – the way it had felt so right when he’d made love to her, like that was where he was supposed to be. Where he belonged. Then she shook all those thoughts from her head and stared at Jim, defying him to do or say anything stupid. This wasn’t the place.

  ‘No. No, of course I don’t mind.’ She looked at her father who, thankfully, seemed to have absolutely no idea of the atmosphere between herself and one of his oldest friends. He had no idea at all, and she needed to make sure it stayed that way. ‘Can I… can I have a drink, Dad?’

  ‘Of course you can, sweetheart? What do you fancy?’

  ‘Gin and tonic, please. A large one.’

  Freddie looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. ‘I thought you said it’d been a good day?’

  ‘It has.’ Amber tried to sound bright and cheerful, when she now felt anything but. ‘I’m just in the mood to unwind and relax.’

  ‘Okay. Well, one large G&T coming up. I’ll be back in a tick.’

  Amber waited until he’d disappeared into the kitchen before she turned her attention back to Jim. ‘Did you know I’d be here when he invited you?’

  ‘He’s a good friend, Amber. And I’m really looking forward to talking over old times…’

  ‘Did you know I’d be here?’ she repeated slowly, looking right into his eyes. His beautiful, mesmerising green eyes. Shit! She needed this tonight, didn’t she? She’d spent all day turning everything over in her mind and finally coming to a conclusion she was happy with, comfortable with, and now he was here and it was like he
’d just undone every decision she’d worked so hard to achieve.

  ‘Your dad did mention that you’d be coming over, yes.’

  ‘Then you should have said no. You should have told him you had other plans.’

  ‘You can’t avoid me forever, Amber.’

  ‘So you keep saying, but this is deliberate, Jim. You, being here, this is deliberate.’

  He walked over to her, gently tilting her chin up so she had no other option but to look into his eyes. ‘You do crazy, stupid things when you’re in love.’

  Swiping his hand away in one swift movement she walked away from him, over to the bay window that overlooked the long gravel driveway and the street outside, keeping her back to him as she focused on the huge weeping willow tree that stood in the centre of her father’s large, lawned front garden. ‘I should go,’ Amber whispered, folding her arms. Suddenly she just wanted to be with Ryan. She didn’t want to be here, with a man who only had the ability to confuse and distract her. She wanted to be with Ryan.

  ‘Okay, so, you leave, all of a sudden, just like that, and you don’t think your dad’s gonna find that odd?’

  She swung round to face him, looking up as he stood right in front of her, all handsome and rugged and everything she’d ever wanted. For most of her life she’d only ever wanted this man. But she couldn’t have him. For her own sanity she had to keep away otherwise her entire life was just going to be one long cycle of loving him and losing him and she couldn’t live like that. Not anymore.

  ‘He’ll want to know why, won’t he?’

  ‘I’ll tell him I don’t feel well. It wouldn’t be so far from the truth.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go.’

  She stared up at him, the smell of that familiar aftershave and the warmth of his body so close to hers making her feel weak and she hated herself for it. She’d never been weak, unless Jim Allen happened to be around. And then she suddenly turned into a completely different person, and one she wasn’t altogether sure she liked.

  ‘Don’t make tonight hard for me, Jim. Please.’

  He smiled again, leaning forward slightly, close enough for his lips to ever-so-gently brush over hers, but he said nothing. He just backed away, smiling at her as he picked up his drink from the coffee table and took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Amber turned her head away, looking back out of the window as a large blackbird swooped down to land on the roof of her dad’s silver Audi It was strange the things you focused on when you didn’t want to face something else.

  ‘Here you go, sweetheart.’

  Freddie Sullivan’s voice shook Amber back to reality and she turned to look at him, smiling as he handed her a tumbler of gin and tonic, a small slice of lemon bobbing about around the top of the glass. Yeah, it really was strange the things you focused on, the distractions you created.

  ‘You okay?’ Freddie asked, frowning slightly, but Amber quickly fixed a smile on her face, leaning forward to kiss her father on the cheek.

  ‘Of course I’m okay. I had a long walk along the Quayside this afternoon and I think all that fresh air has just made me a bit tired, that’s all. I’m not used to it.’

  ‘Well, sit yourself down and relax, young lady. I’ll leave you and Jim to catch up while I go and finish dinner, if that’s alright with you two? I’m sure you’ve got more than enough to talk about.’

  Amber looked over at Jim as he took another sip of his drink, his eyes meeting hers over the rim of his glass. As far as Amber was concerned they had very little left to talk about. But Freddie Sullivan didn’t need to know that.

  *

  Ryan pushed the pile of chips onto black, sitting back in his chair as the croupier swung the roulette wheel round with a measured flick of her wrist. Folding his arms he leaned back, aware of the crowd around him, the rest of the Red Star lads cheering him on, the group of women they’d somehow become attached to hanging onto his arms and shoulders, leaning over him as they screamed in over-excited tones at the spinning wheel. In all his years in top-flight football Ryan was only too aware that professional players at his level seemed to attract women like the Pied Piper had attracted rats. Not the best analogy, maybe, but it was true. They’d not been inside the casino two minutes when they’d suddenly become surrounded, and not just by any old women, either. These girls were beautiful, glamorous and on the prowl for a famous face.

  He leaned forward again as the roulette wheel started to slow down, that tiny white ball flicking in and out of the red and black compartments, causing everyone around the table to draw breath then exhale loudly as the ball flew out of one colour and into another, setting nerves on edge and the excitement rising. It finally settled in red and Ryan sat back again, running his hands through his hair and closing his eyes for a second, letting the groans of some of the people around him wash over him. He might have been successful in attracting the women tonight but as far as luck was concerned it had run out by the time he’d reached the roulette wheel.

  ‘How much is that you’ve lost tonight, then?’ Gary asked, patting Ryan on the shoulder as they left the table and made their way to the bar.

  ‘Too fucking much,’ Ryan sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as a pretty, young blonde girl slipped her arm through his, snuggling in against him as they walked. He looked at her, then at Gary.

  ‘What the eye don’t see…’ Gary shrugged.

  Ryan looked at the girl again. He didn’t even know her name. He couldn’t even remember whether she’d told him what it was in the first place because this night was slowly becoming a blur. Too many Jagerbombs in too short a time had dulled his senses somewhat.

  ‘A few of us are going to The Goldman after this,’ Gary said, leaning over the bar and waving a fifty pound note in front of the barman to gain his attention.

  The Goldman was probably one of the most exclusive city centre hotels the region had to offer. It was a popular haunt for footballers and celebrities, for all sorts of reasons, but the Jagerbombs hadn’t dulled Ryan’s senses enough for him not to know just why Gary and the lads were heading over there later. You only had to check out the group of women that had latched onto them to see what the rest of the night had in store.

  ‘You gonna join us?’ Gary asked, shoving a drink into Ryan’s hand. He wasn’t even sure what it was, but he’d drink it anyway. It was that kind of night. ‘Or are you running off home to the missus?’

  Ryan bristled slightly at the way Gary referred to his relationship with Amber. He knew he was probably just jealous in some small way, because Ryan had managed to go where Gary had tried and failed. But there was also a part of him that sensed his team-mates thought he was just a touch under the thumb. Which he wasn’t. Best not to tell them he’d asked her to move in with him, though. Mind you, it wasn’t as if that was going to happen anyway, was it? Amber’s reaction to his idea hadn’t exactly sent her running off to pack her bags, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself tonight? He’d wanted to take their relationship to the next level, she didn’t. Her loss.

  ‘Count me in,’ Ryan smirked, leaning his elbows on the bar. ‘It sounds like too good an invitation to turn down.’

  ‘Good man,’ Gary grinned, slapping Ryan on the back. ‘You won’t regret it. And, like I said before, what Amber doesn’t see won’t hurt her, will it?’

  Ryan looked at the pretty, blonde girl who was still by his side, now sipping delicately on a flute of something sparkling, her gloss-covered lips pouting sexily against the rim of the glass, her heavily made-up eyes looking right at him. She was silently promising him a night he’d never forget, but Ryan had seen it all before. It wouldn’t be a night he’d never forget – it’d be a night he’d forget quite easily, because he’d had so many of them they almost all blended into one. The same actions, just different women. But who was he to turn it down when it was quite obviously being handed to him on a plate? So he smiled at her, watching the way her false eyelashes fluttered manically in an attempt to prolong the flirt
ing, and tried to push all thoughts of Amber Sullivan to the back of his mind.

  *

  ‘So, how are you and Ryan getting on, then?’ Freddie asked, pouring Amber a brandy to finish off the lovely meal he’d cooked. A meal Amber had more than enjoyed because, as far as cooking was concerned, it wasn’t her strong point. But her dad had picked up a lot of tips from her mother during their marriage, which is more than could be said for Amber.

  She picked up her brandy glass and took a quick sip, letting the warm liquid slide down her throat, aware that Jim’s eyes were on her, waiting for her answer. ‘We’re getting on fine, thanks.’

  She put her glass back down on the table, her fingers almost involuntarily fiddling with the stem. It was a nervous reaction, obviously.

  ‘She’s not proving to be too much of a distraction for your star player then, is she?’ Freddie laughed, looking over at Jim.

  ‘No,’ Jim replied, leaning back in his chair. ‘The club’s still managing to keep his full and undivided attention.’ His eyes were still on Amber, and she didn’t miss the loaded content of that reply. ‘For now.’

  ‘Good,’ Freddie said, beginning to clear away the debris from dinner, stacking a pile of plates together to take back into the kitchen. ‘That’s the way it should be. Full concentration on that pitch, then he can do what he likes when he gets back home.’ He winked at Amber, and she smiled weakly back before looking down at her fingers that were still fiddling with the stem of her glass. ‘Amber knows the score, though, don’t you, pet?’

  ‘Hmm? Sorry?’ Amber asked, quickly looking back up at her dad.

  ‘You know the score, as far as not distracting Ryan is concerned.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.’ She looked over at Jim, who was still staring at her, a slight smile on his far-too-handsome face. ‘Anyway, it’s not like we’re joined at the hip or anything.’