We walk back inside and Ash buys the next round of drinks. I should be getting home, but I’m past thinking straight and that’s never a good sign. Especially when Ash is around. As great as he is, together we’re trouble, even more so when you throw alcohol into the mix.
After the next round I try and leave, but the guys convince me to stay for a bit longer. I give in, because you’re only young once, and after the week I’ve had, I deserve to let off a little steam.
Besides, I’ve already been traded to Crystal Hill. How much worse can things get?
Chapter Five
Jake
It’s late when I drag myself out of bed the next morning. Erin grins at me as I pull the carton of milk from the fridge and gulp it down. I glower at her, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. Why the fuck is my sister in my apartment anyway? It takes me a good few seconds to realize I'm at my mother’s house instead of my own place.
What. The. Fuck?
“Big night?” Erin asks, her voice light. Her green eyes sparkle as she twists her long blonde hair back into a ponytail, securing it with a fastener.
“None of your business,” I mutter, my anger increasing with her laughter. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”
“It’s Sunday, I’m eighteen, and I work full-time, you twit. Remember? Not that you’d know what work is.” She pokes her tongue out at me and retreats back to her bedroom. Regardless of our bickering, we’re pretty close. To be honest, my sister is one of my closest friends. That sounds kind of sad, right?
"Oh, you should probably see this, dumpster boy."
Erin walks back toward me and tosses me her iPad.
Dumpster boy? I pick it up, no idea what she's talking about. Oh shit. There I am, passed out naked in a dumpster that I can only assume is outside the club I was at last night. Full-frontal nudity, everything on display. Impressive, even if I do say so myself. A tiny smirk creeps onto my lips. At least this won’t hurt my chances of scoring women—not that I need any help in that department. That's me, always trying to see the positives in every situation.
"Really, Jake? You're laughing about this? Mum is going to kill you, not to mention your manager." Her hands on her hips, she stares at me. "Did you even read it?"
There are words? I draw my attention away from the photo and read.
Another fine example of the sporting heroes that are supposed to be leading our youth.
Though you can hardly call Jake Tanner a role model, a little decency would go a long way. Here you can see the young star is completely unaware he is in public and without his clothes.
I slide the iPad across on the carpet and lie back on the sofa. My head fucking kills and Erin’s nagging isn’t helping. What’s worse, I know her reaction is nothing compared to the shit my mother is going to give me.
“Erin, do me a favor?” Looking up at her with my best attempt at puppy eyes, I hope to appeal to her sympathetic side, but I’m met with nothing but laughter.
“You think I can get you out of this with Mum, don’t you?” Her grin is from ear to ear and it makes her eyes sparkle.
“You know she’s shit with technology. It’s not like it’s gonna be hard keeping her away from it. Tell her the internet is broken or something.”
“Keep me away from what?” Mum asks. I jump as she walks into the room, joining us over at the couch. I wince. Why the fuck is she shouting like I’m on the other side of the goddammed street? Forcing myself to sit up, I turn to face her, wondering if my helpless expression will work on her. She raises her eyebrows and I smile in spite of myself. Yeah, no chance.
“Oh just some stupid article, trashing me as always,” responding as normally as I can without letting her realize how hungover I am.
She picks up the iPad and I spring up from the couch. That’s my cue to leave—the last thing I want with this hangover is to be yelled at by my mum.
Too late. Just as I near the door I hear her yell. “Jake Tanner, you get back here or I’ll drag you back by your you know what!”
I should stop and explain, but I don’t, because I have nothing. That damn article knows more about what happened last night than I do. Besides, I have a press conference I need to get ready for. I’ll deal with Mum later.
My head still pounds when I arrive at my new training ground with five minutes to spare. Early twice in the space of a week. What the hell has happened to me? I get out of my car and slam the door, ignoring the two idiots walking ahead who turn around to stare. I give them the finger and stalk past them.
Serj waits for me outside the building, his usual scowl in place.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he huffs.
“So don’t start at all?” I suggest with a wink. Bad move.
“For fuck’s sake, Jake, you’re determined to kill me, aren’t you? We’re going to deal with this, but right now I need you to park your arse in front of a room full of reporters and play nice with your new friends.”
“What’s wrong? Even bad publicity is still publicity, right?” Grinning, I slap him on the shoulder and walk with him into the building while he mumbles an incoherent response.
Once we’re inside, I’m quickly ushered into position next to my new captain, Murray Pennerson.
Murray and I don’t get along. It’s that simple. I don’t know much about him other than he has the kind of face that you just want to punch. I scowl at him from the corner of my eye and he returns my glare, his lip twisting into a snarl. Why’s he so pissed? I’m the one whose been uprooted from the top and dumped at the bottom. If anything, he should be grateful I’m at this stupid club and about to save their fucking season.
“Jake,” He says bluntly.
“Murray, nice to see you again,” I reply, not bothering to hide my sarcasm.
“Nice photo in the paper this morning. Glad to see people are figuring out what a knob you are.” A smug grin creeps onto his face.
“Yeah, your sister sure appreciated it while she was licking my balls this morning,” I quip, not missing a beat.
“You fucking—” He stops himself and curses under his breath, his dark eyes burning through me. I grin, enjoying that it’s still so easy to get under his skin. “You’re not worth it,” he hisses, more to himself than me. “You’re a useless, washed-up has-been who has to resort to public indecency—”
“You could only dream of that kind of publicity, Murray,” I cut in. “At least I’m worth reporting, which is more than I can say for you. How many people even know who you are? When was the last time you scored with a chick that isn’t related to you?” I ask. The anger in my voice gets more vicious with every breath.
“Wow, that hurt,” Murray laughs. “You think I give a shit what you think? You realize I’m the captain, right? Do you know what that means?” He puts his hand on my shoulder and grips it tightly.
“That you suck the coach’s dick every night?”
Murray laughs, clearly pissed off. “You really are stupid, aren’t you, Tanner? I make the decisions around here. Me and coach.” He leans closer, anger gleaming in his eyes as they lock onto mine. “I want you benched, then you’re benched. You’d better watch your back, Jake. You’ve got no friends here, remember that.”
“Fuck you, Murray,” I spit.
“Oh you’re the one who is going to get fucked.” He leans forward, his frame towering over me. I’m pretty solid, but next to him I feel like a scrawny kid.
“Only if it’s by your mother,” I retort, forgetting there are cameras pointed at the two of us. His fist comes out of nowhere and lands square on my cheek, sending me to the floor. Every camera in the place clicks frantically, capturing the whole incident.
“Murray! What the bloody hell are you doing?” Our coach, Karl, lunges forward, dragging him off me by the shirt.
“Why did you agree to let him come here? He’s going to ruin this club!” Murray screams at Karl.
“Murray, the locker room. Now! And don’t come back until you’v
e called down!”
Karl glares at Murray, his eyes daring him to disobey. Murray curses, then stalks off. As he reaches the door, he turns and turn back, before disappearing into the change rooms. Coach extends his hand to me, helping me to my feet. I stand up and straighten myself out, annoyed at myself for letting him bait me.
“Don’t you dare pull a stunt like that here again, Jake, or your benched for the season. Do you hear me?” The look in Karl’s eyes tells me he is serious. I should nod and shut the fuck up, but I can’t.
“He was the one baiting me,” I protest with a laugh. “What’s his fucking problem anyway?”
“My guess is he’s fed up with little arseholes like you who think they are invincible,” he responds, raising his eyebrows.
I shrug, feeling defeated. I glance over to Serj who is rolling his eyes at me. He points to the chair I’m meant to be sitting in by tilting his head. Sighing, I take my seat, ignoring the cameras aimed at me. I just want this whole nightmare to be over. Karl sits next to me, repositioning the microphone to address the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, apologies for the outburst a few minutes ago. That is not how we usually do things here, so I hope that won’t dampen the mood.”
He glances my way before standing and continues to talk.
“Moving forward, the reason we have called this press conference is to officially welcome Jake Tanner to the Crystal Hill Football Club as our newest striker. We are delighted to have signed him for four years, and we hope he will be very happy here.”
He glances at me just as I scoff at his words.
“Jake,” he continues, his eyes darkening, “we hope you will enjoy your time with us—but maybe not as much as you enjoyed yourself last night, hey?” The crowd roars with laughter. I’m shocked he’s actually joking about the photos, but I guess if he doesn’t address it, someone is bound to ask.
“Yeah, I know I won’t enjoy it that much,” I say with a grin. “Thanks for the welcome. I’m looking forward to my time here, and I hope I can show you that you made the right decision in welcoming me to your club.”
“Jake, what happened last night? Did you forget where you left your clothes or something?” a reporter in the front row pipes up. Laughter fills the room. So much for addressing it so that they don’t.
“How are you going to cope with Crystal Hill’s zero alcohol tolerance when you can’t even abstain for one night?” More laughter erupts and suddenly I’m the laughing stock of the room. I lean forward towards the microphone.
“Maybe we should focus on my ability to leads this club to its first win in twenty-six games rather than what I get up to in my personal time.”
“How personal is it when you’re drunk and naked in public?” a reporter asks, a smirk on his face. “Can we hear from the club captain about the acquisition of Jake? I think we’re all curious to hear his thoughts.”
The crowd goes quiet as Murray walks across the room towards the stage. His eyes don’t leave mine as he steps onto the stage and takes the empty seat to my left.
Taking the microphone, he taps it a couple of times and lifts it to his mouth.
“I want to start by offering my sincere apologies for my outburst earlier. My temper got the better of me, and as the captain here at Crystal Hill I should be setting a much better example than I showed earlier.” He turns to face me, a forced smile on his face. I smirk, enjoying how much he’s hating this. “On behalf of the Crystal Hill players, we’re happy to have you here.”
He smiles, then places the microphone on the table. As the coach closes the conference, Murray glances at me from the corner of his narrowed eyes.
“Welcome to your worst nightmare, Jakey,” he mutters under his breath, loud enough so that only I can hear. “You’re about to get majorly fucked.”
Chapter Six
Abbey
"I can't believe someone finally had the balls to call them out on it."
I smile as I listen to Mel chuckle on about The Playbook. She has no idea I'm behind it, and I have no intention of telling her. Especially considering how hard I am on the women that hang off these idiot footballers. Women just like her. Has she even picked up on that? Probably not.
The last forty-eight hours have been crazy.
Everyone is talking about The Playbook and my full frontal photo of Jake Tanner in all his glory. Major newspapers and magazines I’ve only ever dreamed of working at have picked up the story, praising whomever is behind it. I want to shout it from the rooftops and bask in all the glory, but I can’t—not yet. Not until I see how far I can take this.
I could not believe my luck when I opened my email last night and saw that photo of Jake. It was sent in by a woman whose friend had been propositioned by a very inebriated Jake. I have no idea how he ended up naked in that dumpster, but it makes for a hell of a story.
The best part of all this is people are actually reading my blog. My words are influencing people. I can’t express how amazing that feels.
"Seriously, Abs; I wanna kiss whomever it is behind that blog. I mean, did you see that picture of Jake?" Mel sighs. "Speaking of which, did you see how well equipped he is? I have to see that in the flesh."
"Mel," I scold her. Has she learnt nothing?
"What?” she whines. “Come on, Abbey, don’t pretend you haven’t thought about having that slide between your legs. I think the entire female population is thinking it after seeing that photo. Hell, I'm sure I saw my mum—"
"Mel!" I yell, squeezing my eyes shut.
“What?” she protests, laughing. “It’s true. The guy has something that would interest many women. I understand all the hype about Jake Tanner now.”
“Yeah, well, so long as someone does,” I mutter. If you ask me, he’s a player, just like every other footballer who thinks he’s God’s gift. I glance back over at Mel’s iPad. I can’t deny he is attractive. And well-equipped. The problem is, he knows it. The other problem is, like most premier league players, he drinks too much, parties too hard, and has zero respect for women. I roll my eyes. I can’t believe I’m even wasting my time thinking about this.
I pull out my phone, keen to check my email to see if there are any more responses. I couldn’t believe it when I checked it this morning and found seven emails from women telling me how much they appreciated both my open letter to Asher and the photo of Jake.
I half listen to Mel as I log into my email. My notification centre starts going crazy, so much so that Mel stops talking long enough to give me an odd look. My eyes widen. Holy shit! I have thirty-three unread messages.
“What the hell is that?” she asks, curiously craning her neck to try and see what I’m doing.
“Phone is playing up,” I mumble. I shove it back in my bag and get to my feet. “Anyway, I better get going. See you tomorrow?”
“’Course,” Mel grins.
As soon as I get home, I power up my MacBook. My hands shake as I log into my email. My heart nearly stops when I see I have over two hundred waiting for me. They must’ve still been loading on my phone. And I was impressed with thirty-three. I click on the first one, a shiver of excitement racing through me.
Dear Playbook,
I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for outing that asshole. I had a very similar experience with him and tried to tell my story but nobody was interested. I feel totally elated that the world finally knows what he is like.
I hope you continue to out every one of those cheating scumbags.
Yours,
Jazz
The buzz that hits me from reading the first email is way better than my morning Espresso and it spurs me on. I click and read email after email, my excitement growing with each one. How has this become so big? Thank God I set up a new email account for this.
I open another:
Playbook,
These bastards need taking down! Keep doing what you’re doing!
YOU RULE
Anon.
Short and sweet but still
just as fucking amazing. I’m in shock that so many people not only read my online blog, but actually took the time to write to me.
A subject title catches my eye so I scroll my mouse to the email and click to open it.
Cocks ahoy!
Dear playbook,
You have sparked my interest in these men – I’ve been single for six years now and what I wouldn’t give to have one of these men in my bed. Just so you know, not every girl is interested in a relationship – Some—like me—are just after sex with no strings, and after seeing Jake Tanner nude on your blog– I’m offering to go under cover for you just so I can get up close and personal with his beautiful big cock. What girl wouldn’t want a ride on that?
If you need an undercover reporter – I’m your girl. And I’m not even joking!!!
P.S. Did you take the picture?? Was it as impressive in person??
Mel
I let out a laugh. Is that my Mel? No chance. Rather than email a blog she’d just hunt Jake down herself and mount him.
After an hour, by which time it had climbed to nearly three hundred emails, I decide that I need a break. A caramel latte. My mouth salivates just thinking about it.
I haven’t been back to my usual place since the incident, but I’ve found a substitute a few streets over. Their coffee is just as good and the staff are all female, so there’s no chance of a repeat. I groan, my face heating up just thinking about it. I screwed up any chance I had with him when I coated him in my secondhand coffee. Not that I think I ever had one in the first place. Guys like him don't go for girls like me. I’d have better luck with Jake Tanner.
Grabbing my jacket, I run down the stairs of my block of flats and turn left down the hill towards the shops. Sighing, my mind wanders back to my new interest. Who would’ve known that so many women were feeling the same way and have been treated the same by these so-called pillars of society. The worst thing is, if they weren’t so focused on themselves, they could be doing amazing things for the confidence of young kids who didn’t have anyone to look up to.
The Playbook Page 4