Winning the Player

by Leesa Bow

  I hit the steering wheel. ‘I don’t like him, damn it!’ I turned up the radio and blasted the car with some god-awful song to keep my mind off Hunter. He was arrogant, self-centred, and had no sexual morality. Not someone I intended to fall for.

  The following Saturday I hung out at Maddy’s. I was trying on several dresses, squeezing my size-twelve frame into her size-eight clothes. Standing in front of the mirror, I sighed at my attempt to look like I fitted in with the nightclub scene. Maddy burst through the bedroom door and I instinctively wrapped my arms around my waist.

  ‘Wow.’ Her eyes rounded like dinner plates.

  ‘What do you mean, wow? I look ridiculous.’

  Maddy scowled at me in the mirror. ‘Shut. Up.’ She tugged at the hem of the red dress. ‘I was wrong. I thought it would be too short, but with your long legs it works.’

  I was good at interpreting Maddy’s thoughts. As I feared, my appearance oozed I want to get laid. ‘Not sure it’s the look I’m comfortable with.’

  ‘Careful what you say about my fashion.’

  ‘It suits you.’

  Maddy dug her fists into her hips. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It looks good on you. It just doesn’t suit me.’

  She guided me to a chair and picked up the already hot iron, sliding it down the length of my hair. ‘I bet you pick up first.’

  I rolled my eyes at her reflection. ‘You know I’m not looking.’

  She winked. ‘Bet you change your mind before the night’s over.’

  Bet I don’t.

  An hour later we were in the city.

  Maddy strutted along in her six-inch heels and a black dress barely covering her butt. She waved a VIP card at a bouncer standing out the front of the Towers nightclub and walked by without making eye contact with him. What I would do for some of her confidence.

  I followed her into a dimly lit room, where a glowing red light painted the air pink. She nodded in the direction of the stairs and I looked up to a mezzanine level above the dance floor. The VIP area. ‘I’ll get us a round of shots.’ She headed to the bar and I shuffled behind, not wanting to be left standing alone.

  ‘Aubree Taylor. I heard you were home,’ a male voice sounded from behind.

  This time I turned to Brandon Johns, a basketball friend, who like me played in national tournaments. I hadn’t heard from him since . . . ‘BJ. How are you?’

  ‘Great, mate. Even better for seeing you. How the hell are you?’ His dark eyes lit up.

  ‘I’m good.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s weird being home.’

  ‘Tell me about it. I leave in a few weeks to go back to Idaho. I’m on summer break. Already done two years.’ My smile sagged; BJ was at college playing basketball in the United States. His dream and mine. ‘Oh shit, Aubs, I’m sorry.’ He raked his fingers through soft brown curls.

  My eyes pricked and like every other time I fought back tears. ‘Hey, I’m fine, really. It’s just every now and then it hits home.’

  Maddy pushed herself between us. ‘BJ,’ she all but screamed. ‘How are you, buddy?’ She handed me a shot before bear-hugging him.

  Without hesitating, I downed the clear liquid, relishing the burn as it slid down my throat. Maddy raised her eyebrows at me while holding her still-full shot to her lips.

  ‘I’ll get another round,’ BJ offered, and took off in the direction of the bar.

  Maddy’s brow creased. ‘Did I miss something?’

  I snatched the shooter from her hand and downed her drink, trying to get rid of the knot of pain in my gut that came on when I thought about basketball, and everything I could have achieved if I were still playing. In a dark corner of my mind a voice cried out, wanting my old life back.

  Maddy didn’t object. She winked knowingly. ‘It’s going to be a good night.’

  When BJ reappeared with a tray of shots, Maddy stole the first. I assumed he felt guilty about bringing up the subject since he knew how upset I was after my injury. I held another glass to my lips, ignoring the alarm bell sounding in my head. When my alcoholic father died from a drinking binge almost nine years ago, I vowed never to use alcohol to dull emotional pain. But during the last couple of years I’d ignored that promise, reasoning that alcohol helped me through the dark times. Talking to BJ, all the pain and self-doubt resurfaced as a reminder of a dream lost. I threw my head back and drained the glass.

  ‘Again,’ Maddy instructed, handing me another. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

  When I opened them again the room shifted. I swallowed back the acid burning my throat. ‘I need the bathroom,’ I said to Maddy, and grabbed the back of a chair to regain my balance.

  She placed her hand on my lower back. ‘You okay? Guess you’re not used to it.’

  ‘Yeah. I won’t be long.’ It wasn’t just alcohol making me dizzy.

  The small restroom didn’t help the nausea clawing its way up my throat. I clung to the basin, breathing in and out slowly. After wetting paper, I patted my neck and forehead while looking at myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back. My eyes widened. Maddy was right; I’d pulled it off. I looked like a regular nightclub girl. God, I was pathetic, trying to fit in. Before my injury, my head was screwed on and my future planned. I knew who I was and what I wanted.

  Now . . .

  I continued to stare at my painted face in the darkened glass, ignoring a group of girls who had walked in, glancing my way for a brief second only to continue talking about some hottie at the bar. My green eyes were definitely like my mum’s, and I liked to think I’d also inherited her morals. Had I forgotten everything I valued – my standards about sex having to mean something, so no one-night stands? My reflection reeked of ‘fuck me’. My hands worked my bra, trying to push my breasts under the dress. My chest heaved. I didn’t want to throw up, but the smell of the toilet made everything worse. I pushed open the door to BJ standing outside, leaning against a brick wall, arms folded.

  He reached me in two quick strides, then took my hand in his. ‘Everything alright?’ I smiled at him. It was how I remembered BJ, the gentle giant always looking out for other people, and I wished I hadn’t cut him off as a friend. But then Maddy was the only person who’d remained in contact with me and it was by her own perseverance. Old friends only dug up the past.

  ‘Yeah. I just needed a minute.’

  We reached our spot to find Maddy surrounded by guys. It didn’t surprise me, not only was she stunning with her large blue eyes and long black hair, she had the benefit of being Hunter Stone’s cousin.

  ‘I’m getting Aubs and I a table,’ BJ said to Maddy.

  She nodded and he directed me towards a roped-off area near the corner. I collapsed onto a chair and rested my head against the wall.

  ‘You wanna talk?’ BJ asked gently.

  I shrugged. ‘It is what it is. I can’t change that.’

  ‘No. But you have so much knowledge to offer. You could coach.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not ready.’ He nodded like he understood.

  Laughter and cheering sounded from the bar. I turned to see Hunter and his teammates fenced in by girls. It stunned me that I hadn’t noticed when he’d arrived. He spoke to a guy on his right and smirked like it was a private joke. Then I saw the petite blonde on his left rubbing his thigh, awfully high.

  ‘Argh. They’re so annoying.’

  BJ followed my gaze to the bar and shrugged. ‘It’s all part of it. They lap it up because it never lasts.’

  ‘Whatever. They’re supposed to be professional athletes,’ I grumbled. My disdain for Hunter and his mates was crystal clear, yet I struggled to tear my gaze away from him.

  ‘They played a home game today. And they’re drinking water. Why do you care so much?’

  ‘I don’t.’ The words came out quickly. ‘I just hate arrogance.’

  BJ studied my face for a moment. ‘What’re you going to do, Aubs?’ He reached across the table and touched my hand.

  My g
aze fixed on a dent in the wood. I found it difficult to talk about life without basketball and no set plan. Not so long ago my life was mapped out: two years at the Australian Institute of Sport then four at a college in the US. Now I lived a life of uncertainty and was too scared to commit to anything for fear that bad luck would follow. My gaze lifted to BJ. If anyone understood what I was going through . . . ‘I’m not sure. I always wanted to be a phys-ed teacher, but now?’

  ‘You can do anything. Watching you play ball—’ he hesitated. ‘You had more determination than anyone I knew.’

  Thanks, BJ.’

  His brown eyes softened. ‘I’m not saying it to make you feel better.’

  Maddy appeared and slammed two hands on the table. ‘Hey, you two, come dance with me.’

  Before I could object BJ grabbed my hand and pulled me off the chair towards the dance floor.

  Beyoncé blasted out of the speakers, immediately lifting my spirit. We danced to several songs before my feet, still unaccustomed to heels, decided that enough damage had been done for one night. After indicating I couldn’t dance anymore, BJ rested his arm on my shoulder, while Maddy pulled his other arm, guiding us in the direction of the bar.

  ‘Hunter,’ she called out and waved.

  My gaze darted to the bar and found Hunter with an arm draped over the blonde’s shoulders. My stomach plummeted. If she was prepared to rub him up in public, God only knows what she’d do in private.

  Hunter looked up and waved to Maddy before his eyes settled on me. His face changed and his stare became piercing. I squirmed under BJ’s arm.

  BJ coughed. ‘Better tell your cuz I don’t bite, Mads.’

  Maddy shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about him. He gets protective when I’m out.’

  We’d hardly taken a dozen steps when Hunter appeared beside me, stopping the three of us in our tracks. ‘Who’s your friend, Maddy?’

  ‘Hunter.’ Maddy stepped around BJ and snuggled into Hunter’s waist. ‘This is Aubree’s friend, BJ. He plays college basketball in America. Pretty cool, hey?’

  Hunter released Maddy and shook hands with BJ. ‘So you’re a friend of Aubs?’ My eyes widened upon hearing him shorten my name as though we were friends.

  ‘Yeah, mate. Just looking out for the girls. Aubs had too many shots.’

  Wow.

  Hunter’s eyes met mine. ‘Did she now? So you’re going to look after her.’

  My chest heaved at his tone. I lifted my chin before answering. ‘I’m fine. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.’ For the past two years I’d taken care of myself and I didn’t need a goddamn arrogant footballer questioning me. When I attempted to step past him I stumbled.

  BJ caught my waist. ‘Easy, girl.’

  Great. Now I looked like an idiot.

  ‘Let me know if you need my help,’ Hunter said to Maddy. He turned to me and lowered his gaze in a wanton manner, and when he looked up those blue eyes sliced through me. The same seductive look had reeled me in the night before my flight when I’d caved in and agreed to go back to his house. My lips parted and before I could think of something smart to say he turned away, and with a few long strides crossed to the bar.

  Maddy’s shoulders drooped. ‘The Blackbirds lost today. He gets grumpy when they lose.’

  ‘He must lose a lot,’ I replied.

  Maddy spun to face me. ‘He’s pissed because they won’t make finals.’

  BJ frowned at me. ‘You were never a good loser either, Aubs, give him a break.’

  ‘Listen to you both. Poor Hunter,’ I mocked. ‘He looks happy enough now.’ I nodded in Hunter’s direction, where he was once again with the blonde. My jaw clenched, aware that the burning sensation in my chest was no longer from alcohol. I looked away and lowered my head, ashamed of the green monster growing inside of me. ‘I don’t feel so good,’ I said, with a growing need to be alone. I turned to Maddy. ‘Anyone want to share a taxi home?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Aubree.’

  My head thumped mercilessly as morning registered.

  ‘What?’ I groaned, stretching out the word.

  ‘You need to drink.’

  I opened my eyes slightly, shielding them from the light, but enough to see Mum sitting on the bed. I forced a smile, although the way my head drummed I really wanted to curl up in a ball and hide. Then I noticed a bucket on the floor.

  ‘Oh, God.’

  ‘It wasn’t God’s doing, dear,’ she admonished.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ My voice croaked. I lowered my eyes, knowing she’d be disappointed.

  ‘Here, this will help.’ Mum handed me a large glass of water. She pushed her red fringe out of her eyes, something she did right before preaching something. ‘Your father —’

  ‘I’m not Dad. I won’t make the same mistakes. It was just a bit of fun.’ I covered her hand with mine. The pain still lingered in her green eyes.

  ‘Is it fun now?’

  ‘No,’ I whispered.

  Mum studied my face for a few seconds and then hers changed to a satisfied expression. She patted my hand and stood. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’

  ‘I love you, Mum.’

  As soon as the door closed I slid further under the covers, my heart sinking deeper in my chest. Hell, I’d only been home for a few weeks and already was losing the plot. Mum understood why I had to get away, understood my grief, but she never approved of alcohol filling the void. My guard shot up.

  Don’t go down that road.

  To distract myself I reached for my iPhone, opened up Twitter and scrolled through the latest tweets. After finding a motivational phrase by Michael Jordan, I pressed ‘Retweet’ in a lame attempt to inspire others when it was me who needed the help. Seconds later I received a notification.

  Hunter Stone favorited.

  My heart danced a little jig. Call me stupid for not unfollowing Hunter on Twitter after that night. But I enjoyed reading his tweets and, up until today, he had never responded to any of mine. My mouth gaped when another tweet appeared.

  @HunterStone8: @AubsTaylor Are you okay?

  I took in a deep breath. So he wants to play the we-can-be-friends game.

  @AubsTaylor: @HunterStone8 I’m fine #thanksforyourconcern

  Then I received a text message.

  Glad you’re ‘fine’.

  I replied: You seemed to be having a good time last night. Bad luck about your loss.

  As soon as I pressed ‘send’ I realised the tone of the message hinted at jealousy. And his football didn’t interest me so why pretend? I knew his team lost only because Maddy and BJ had told me. I interpreted texting as taking the next step in friendship, and didn’t want that. I hit delete on the message, hoping he never got a chance to read it.

  I breathed out slowly, remembering what had happened two years ago. After leaving the Shores nightclub we went back to his house. Within half an hour I’d left him in his bedroom, saying I needed the bathroom, and instead I headed to the front door, buttoning up my top as I walked out. My flight to the United States was the following morning, and I didn’t want to endure a long flight pondering a big mistake. I was still a virgin, and Hunter mistakenly had assumed my elite sporting ability had played into the bedroom, the way his popularity had.

  That assumption raised my blood pressure more than losing a game. With school, part-time work and training six days a week—sometimes twice a day—I never had time for relationships. Never had time for boys, really. Hardly had time for a normal life and, unlike Hunter, I didn’t have a healthy pay cheque at the end of the week. Yet it was the life I wanted. Despite my frustration, I shivered at the memory of Hunter half-naked. Every part of him hardened muscle . . . Worse still, I’d wanted him even though I was afraid I wouldn’t match the standard of his usual dates. He’d had sex on tap for years and I’d had no intention of flunking at sex, as well as my basketball, especially with Hunter Stone. Furthermore, I’d reminded myself not to be easy. So that had put Hunter off
my radar, and I aimed to keep it that way.

  My phone vibrated with an incoming message from Hunter.

  We still need to talk.

  And say what?

  You’ve got Buckley’s of that happening, mate. Instead of replying, I sent a text to Maddy.

  Want to catch up for coffee?

  ‘The day after has got to be the worst,’ Maddy said, pushing her oversized, round sunglasses high on the bridge of her nose. She stirred sugar through her latte and licked froth from the spoon. ‘You’d think with all the advances in science someone could come up with a cure for a bloody hangover.’

  I nodded. ‘Maybe we should drink a Gatorade before bed.’

  ‘You know, that’s not a bad idea.’

  The waiter appeared with two large servings of chicken schnitzel and chips. Without a taste test I covered the chips with a thick layer of salt. ‘Ah, the perfect hangover food.’ I bit into a chip and groaned in pleasure as salt hit my tongue.

  ‘So do you want to come to the footy next weekend with me?’ Maddy asked in a slightly high-pitched voice.

  ‘No. Why would I? You know footy doesn’t interest me.’

  ‘Because Hunter’s playing.’

  I gave her a quizzical look. ‘More reason not to go.’

  She tilted her head. ‘You two are still friends, aren’t you?’

  No. ‘Why wouldn’t we be?’ My thoughts lingered on the night I’d run out on him. After two years of blocking out the incident, my memories of Hunter were consuming me more and more every day. Especially a bare-chested Hunter, with jeans unzipped and revealing how much he wanted me. Until a girl had moaned from the room next door, the sound ending the magic. He’d shared a house with two teammates and both guys had brought girls home after a night of boozing. Thankfully, I’d still had my jeans on and although my blouse was unbuttoned, I’d managed to break his spell and think clearly. I wasn’t going to be another meaningless fuck, another notch in his belt, especially for my first time. So I’d torn myself away from his poster-perfect body.