At just before one, I'm sitting in a booth at the back of Thrive, armed with my laptop, waiting for Sandy. It’s the first time I’ve been here since it opened last month. I survey the hip, modern décor and decide that I like it. If I actually went out anywhere, this would be my kind of place.
I glance at the door, hoping to see someone who fits Sandy’s description, but all I see is Adam.
“Shit!” I curse, my voice louder than I was expecting.
I pick up a menu and shove it in front of me. I wait a few seconds before deciding to peek over the top of the menu. Adam stands across from my table, grinning at me. My face turns bright red. Why is it every time I see him I’m acting like a tool? At least I’m not armed with coffee today.
“Hey, I didn’t see you there,” I fib.
He brushes his hand through his thick dark curly hair. “Ah, really? See, I thought you saw me walk in, panicked and hid behind your menu. My bad.” A smile creeps onto his lips as I cringe. He totally caught me out.
I toss the menu onto the table, the jig up.
“You got me. Truth is, I didn’t want to risk throwing any more coffee on you,” I joke, with a grimace. He laughs, and places his hand on his chest.
“I guess it is nice to see you without wearing your coffee. I was beginning to think I needed to start carrying a spare shirt with me, just in case I ran into you.” He grins, his smile making me tingle all over. “So, can I join you? He gestures to the empty chair in front of me. I’m about to say yes when I see a petite blonde girl approaching the table. Shit. Talk about bad timing.
“Actually I’m meeting someone. It’s a work thing,” I add, just in case he thinks I’m meeting a guy. “Here she is now.” I gesture to who I think is Sandy and her smile confirms it.
“No worries, I guess I’ll leave you alone.” He turns around and heads to the bar. As much as I want to watch him, I turn my attention to Sandy.
“Hi, Macie?” Sandy asks uncertainly, her hand extended. I nod and shake her hand, motioning for her to join me. “Please, sit down. Unless you want to go somewhere more quiet?”
She looks around. While this place is probably pumping at night, in the middle of the day on a Wednesday it’s dead. She shrugs and slips into the seat, dropping her bag beside her.
“No, it’s fine here.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” I coax her with a smile. I don’t want to rush her. “Just tell me whatever you want me to know.” At the very least, this is taking my mind off Adam, even if this doesn’t end in a story. I glance back over at the bar to see he’s gone. Disappointment stabs at me.
“Right,” Sandy nods. She grabs hold of the wine I’ve ordered for her and gulps down half of it. “I was out with some friends at Revive when I met Matt.”
I already feel sorry for the girl “Another?” I ask, nodding at her now empty glass.
“Maybe just a soda,” she responds. I signal to the waiter, who comes to take our order and I carry on talking to Sandy.
“So, you were saying you met him at Revive? Did he instigate the meeting or did you?”
“He did,” she says. “I was talking to friends and he came over. He ignored my friends and poured the charm on me,” she says. “Of course, I knew who he was, so I felt special that he was signaling me out. I glance at her, knowing why. She’s exactly what footballers go for, naturally pretty face, long blonde hair that falls over her shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and a perfect figure. The exact opposite of me.
“Ok, so he singled you out. Did he have any chat up lines?” I ask, jotting down notes on my laptop.
She smiles wistfully. “Yeah, he said that an angel like me needs to be taken to heaven and he was the perfect guy to do it.” She stares into the distance, her eyes glazed.
“Geez, and that worked?” Her face goes red and I realize I just said that aloud.
“I wasn’t thinking straight, and you didn’t see the way he was looking at me,” she says defensively. “Anyway, he took me downstairs to another bar, and kept buying me glasses of champagne. I was so drunk. He wanted to make out with me and feel me up in the club, but there were so many people there and everyone was watching us. I turned him down. That’s when his friends showed up. He got really moody and angry with me. He called me a cock-tease and got up to leave, but as he was sliding past me, out of nowhere he leaned over me and kissed me.” She stops and takes a drink.
“Wow he sounds like an asshole,” I mutter. Who does that? I glance back at Sandy. And there is that dreamy smile again. This chick is as bad as Mel.
“Well, that’s the thing. The kiss was freaking amazing. He asked me to go home with him and I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t even stand up without his help. I’m not usually a big drinker, so I guess I overindulged.” She shakes her head. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m not even sure he did anything wrong. It was probably nothing.”
“Could he have slipped you something?” I ask suddenly. She looks shocked, like she’d never considered it. I lean into the table, my tone serious and low.
“Oh no—no, I mean to suggest that. I didn’t see him do anything, other than be an arse. I mean, even Jake Tanner showed up at one point but he was with a redhead. Matt bought me a screaming orgasm and then the next thing I knew I’m in his bed.” She blushes, tears in her eyes. “I can’t remember much, I’m sorry. After we…I’m pretty positive I could hear the click of a camera, but by then I was nearly passed out.” She wipes her eyes and takes a mouthful of her drink. “My parents are pretty religious. I don’t know what I’d do if any of this came out. I swear I’m not usually the kind of girl who does this.”
“This is bad,” I say, really feeling for her. “He could have put anything in your drink.” I want to shake her for being so stupid. Rule one of going out and drinking is never accept a drink from a stranger—even a famous one—and don’t leave your drink unattended. I’m willing to bet Sandy did both.
“It’s possible, but like I said, I didn’t see him do that. I was really drunk and can't remember much.”
“So what happened when you woke up?” I ask.
“He gave me a kiss on the lips and a slap on the arse, handed me a fifty and pointed to the door.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I mean, forget the fact that I felt used, being treated like some dirty hooker, but fifty dollars?” She looks down at the table with tears in her eyes, holding her now empty glass. I stretch my arm over the table to her hand and hold it tightly.
“Leave it to me,” I assure her. “When I’m done with him, he’ll think twice about doing the same thing. And if he did take pictures, that’s a crime. You really should think about contacting the police.”
“I’ll think about it,” she says, her tone doubtful. I nod, already knowing she isn’t going to listen to my advice.
After l leave Sandy I head straight back home and begin drafting my next blog piece on Matt. This is one asshole who needs to be outed and a quick search puts me in contact with several women who claim to have been treated poorly by the guy. After spending half the night on the phone backing up my sources, I’m nearly done. Yawning, I stretch out my arms behind my head. I’m exhausted, and I haven’t even started the work I should have been doing for my paid job.
Hovering my mouse over the submit button, I feel a sudden pang of guilt, but it’s short lived when I remember what he’s done. Someone needs to teach these guys a lesson and it looks like it’s up to me. I hit upload and pour myself a glass of wine as I sit back in my chair. Now the wait for hits begins.
After a glorious hour long soak in the tub, I decide that I can't be bothered cooking. Since I’ve already got my pj’s on, I pick up my mobile to order takeout, but just as I'm about to dial the number, my phone rings.
“I'm just about to order takeout, so don't even try to get me to come out. It’s been a long day,” I say, when I see that it’s Mel.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH They’ve done it again, Abs.” Wincing, I pull the phone away from my ear, her screaming enough to sen
d me deaf.
“What do you mean, what's going on?” I say, no idea what she’s on about.
“The Playbook,” you twit,” she laughs. “There’s another blog post outing another guy! Have you been following it? I’m hooked on this shit, I tell you. I’m signed up for instant alerts but I still check it all the time just in case.”
A smile instantly creeps onto my face. I’m thrilled that anyone is reading “The Playbook,” but hearing Mel rave about it is a whole other level. She doesn’t have a clue I'm behind it, which is great. And she’s always telling me I can’t keep anything a secret. An unexpected twinge of guilt hits me. If only she knew how much I was keeping from her. The blog is just the tip of the iceberg. What I know—what I’ve done is enough to ruin our friendship for good. I shrug off the negative thoughts, refusing to let the past ruin my moment.
“Oh really? You’ll have to send me the link,” I say, trying to sound disinterested.
“Oh it’s so good, Abs. This person—or woman,” she corrects herself. “It has to be a chick, and probably one who has slept around.”
“Mel,” I laugh, cutting her off, “I haven’t seen you this worked up in ages,” I giggle. Still laughing, I pick up the menu to the Chinese takeout place around the corner from me. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Thank God for online ordering. I’m able to listen to Mel inadvertently tell me how amazing I am and sort out my dinner at the same time.
I fall into bed just after midnight, exhausted and barely able to keep my eyes open. All I can think about is “The Playbook” and how hard it’s taken off. Hell, I heard Jimmy Stanza, one of the kings of talk show TV mention my blog today. He offered me an exclusive if I ever wanted to reveal myself. I have to say, it’s tempting…
Not yet. I’m so used to being the girl who nobody really sees that the thought of being the centre of attention kind of terrifies me. What if I can’t handle the pressure that would come with that kind of exposure?
No. For now I’m happy hiding behind my computer screen. The only stories I want to be associated with at the moment are those about bedpans and walking frames.
Chapter Ten
Jake
My alarm abruptly wakes me up, mid wet dream. I roll over, running my hands through my hair. Suddenly there is a hand on my thigh and it makes me jump. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t dreaming. I throw back the covers and grin at the blonde who has her mouth around my cock.
I don’t even have time to prepare myself. I’m hard as fuck and about to explode in her mouth. Groaning, I grab a handful of her hair and ram myself as far down her throat as I can. Her blue eyes widen as she takes me in, almost choking as I come.
“What a nice way to wake up,” I mumble. I throw the sheets back, hoping she’s not expecting me to reciprocate. Not when I have training to get to. I grab my clothes, not paying attention to her, hoping she will take the hint and leave. She doesn’t. Instead, she rolls over and smiles at me.
“So, what have you got planned later?” she asks. “Maybe we can do dinner? Or there is a new movie I’ve been dying to see.”
Oh shit, here we go again. “Not sure what my plans are, but they’re unlikely to involve you,” I begin awkwardly. Her eyes widen and she pulls the covers over herself. That came out a little harsher than I intended.
“Oh, I see how it is,” she mutters. She sits up and turns away from me. I sigh. I don’t have time for this crap. I grab my jacket and leave.
This is exactly why I’m not interested in a relationship. Commitment just isn’t for me.
Walking into the locker room the sound of laughter fills my ears. I stiffen, sure that it’s about me. One look at Murray’s face and I know I’m right.
“Morning, Jake; perfect timing. We’re just lining up your first date.”
“My what?” I ask, not sure I heard right. Since when does Murray do matchmaking?
“Right; you don’t know yet,” he says, as if he forgot. “Your punishment for losing the bet? I get to send you on five dates. Trust me when I say I’m putting lots of effort in to find you the perfect woman.”
I bet you are. I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “That’s the best you could come up with? Sending me out on a few harmless dates?”
Murray stands up and gestures for me to sit down in front of the laptop. Rolling my eyes, I comply and sit down.
“Uniquewomen.com—I bet that’s not as fun as it sounds,” I mumble to myself. Murray and Dean stand behind me, leaning in to see the screen. I click on the first profile. A woman named Marsha—though the term woman I’m not sure is accurate. Russian hammer thrower would give a better description. I narrow my eyes to study her, pretty sure she’s sporting a beard.
“Don’t worry, Marsha didn’t make the cut. We’ve found some much better ladies for you to wine and dine,” Dean assures me. I glare at him. What happened to him being on my side?
“Oh come on, Jake, its only five dates, and Dean and I have spent a lot of time making sure we have picked you the five best girls on this dating site.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they are real corkers, Murray, but I’m not doing it,” I retort, my voice laced with anger.
“A bet’s a bet, Jake,” Murray reiterates. He straightens up as I push the chair back and turn to face them. “You don’t want to be known as a sore loser, do you?”
“It was never a bet that I was going to win,” I growl, not taking my eyes off him. “That doesn’t make me a sore loser; it makes you a cheat.”
“Well, in life you have to take gambles, nothing is guaranteed,” Dean smirks. “But if you’re too much of a pussy to go on a few measly dates—”
“Fine whatever—” I cut in. I’m so done with this fucking club. I may as well just suck it up and get it over with. I stomp in the direction of the exit, wishing the year was over already. At least then I’d get a few months off to drink. As I near the door, I raise my middle finger behind me.
“Bring it on fuckers,” I shout.
The next few training sessions come and go without much drama, and it feels like I’m finally settling in. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not exactly the fucking Brady bunch, but I guess a toleration has formed. I’m also beginning to think they’ve given up on their stupid bet. Until today.
As soon as I walk onto the field, I hear the snickering. Something tells me today’s not going to be a good day.
“Jake, how do you feel about Rhonda?” Dean asks, barely containing his laughter.
“If I knew who she was, I would be able to tell you,” I say, my voice flat.
“She’s your number one, Jakey.” Murray grins, rubbing his jaw. “Remember, treat her mean to keep her keen.”
“Come on guys, hustle. Now is not the time for matchmaking. All of you wankers give me twenty laps now!” the coach barks at us from the sidelines. Murray and I glare at each other for a few seconds until he breaks the silence.
“Too bad. I guess I’ll have to let you know all the details later. I know the excitement must be killing you.” He pats me on the back and jogs off to start his laps.
“Asshole,” I mumble to myself. I bend over to tie my laces before I run off to join the others.
After training, I quickly shower. Wearing only a towel wrapped around my waist, I head to my locker. I’m almost there when a laptop is thrust in my face. A picture on the laptop displays a large, frumpy looking girl, complete with dark frizzy hair and glasses. She smiles into the camera as she’s surrounded by a small army of cats.
“Jake, meet Rhonda. Isn't she lovely?” Murray asks smugly. I roll my eyes and continue getting dressed.
“Yeah, she looks like a real catch. I hope you’re very happy with her, Murray.” I know where this is heading, but I refuse to make a big deal of it. The more I act up, the more he wins.
“Oh no, Jakey boy. This is who you’re meeting tonight—at eight pm. She will have a red rose with her. It’s a bit cliché, I know, but I thought you would like the added touch.”
&n
bsp; “Well, unlucky, because I already have plans tonight,” I respond. Plans to get wasted with Asher and pick up some easy pussy to take home with me for a midnight snack.
“You’re right. You do have plans. With Rhonda. If you ever want to play another game this year, that is.” His lips spread into a smirk as he realizes he has me. So long as he’s my captain, I’m fighting a losing a battle.
“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Shall I say hello to her from you? I assume you’re related. She kind of looks like you.”
“No, and no need. I’ll be able to tell her myself as I heckle you from the bar,” he says, closing the already small gap between us.
I let out a laugh. “Seriously, Murray, get any closer and people will think it’s you who wants to go on a date with me,” I say, which earns me a chuckle from the guys. Murray turns around and glares at them and the laughter stops instantly.
“Maybe you should worry less about me and more about your perfect reputation. I’ll see you tonight, sunshine. Don’t be late,” he sings, his eyes gleaming.
When I reach the bar just before eight, the whole team are already there. A cheer erupts as I walk in and I cringe. It would actually feel pretty good if I knew it wasn’t to take the piss out of me.
I spot Rhonda right away. Mainly, because she’s hard to miss; but just in case I had any doubt, the red rose sitting on the table is a giveaway.
I reluctantly smile and walk slowly towards her. Dinner, then I’m out of here. Murray didn’t say anything about a time minimum. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast.
“Hey toots, how’s it going?” I figure that my usual cocky attitude should get me through this. Hell, it might make her leave so I can eat in peace.
Her eyes widen as if she can’t believe I’m her date. “You’re Jake?” she breathes, blushing like a little schoolgirl. I slide into the seat opposite her and nod, helping myself to some of the bread that sits in the middle of the table. “So, you liked my profile?” she asks, beaming from ear to ear?
The Playbook Page 7