Pippa's Fantasy

by Donna Gallagher

  To top off the whole painful interlude, the moment Rook had laid his hands on her, her traitorous body had gone into lust overdrive. There was no way he could not feel her hard nipples poke at him, not with the way he had her pressed hard to his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart against her breast, could feel her body soften, moisten in readiness for him. She was mortified. She had to get away from him, now. Gain some distance from him before she made a fool of herself…again.

  So Pippa focused on his accusation and how best to reply.

  “Rookie, I am well aware of Brodie’s expectations, now that I am officially a member of the Jets staff. You have no reason to fret over Gareth’s virtue. I have no intention of doing anything that would jeopardise either of our careers. So you can go back to whomever it was you were chatting up.” Pippa was relieved that she sounded much calmer than she was actually feeling, even referring to Rook by the nickname from his youth.

  Although she did notice that she hadn’t struggled to break away from his grip yet, even though she knew she should.

  She watched, horrified, but excited when, as if in slow motion, Rook lowered his head towards her.

  Was he about to kiss her?

  Would she just let him take her that way in front of everyone?

  Giving in to the lust about to claim her, she let herself draw nearer to him, their lips all but touching. Pippa could feel the heat from Rook’s breath. His mouth was so close she could almost taste him, feel his tongue against her own.

  “Hey, guys, are you okay? Funny, Rook, but it looked to me as though you were either about to hit Pipsqueak or kiss her,” Riley said, not even a trace of humour apparent in his voice. He physically stepped in between Pippa and Rook, pushing their bodies apart, breaking Rook’s hold on her.

  Rook glared at Riley. Riley, holding his ground, glared back. Pippa held her breath—she wasn’t sure if the men were about to come to blows or not, but she could almost feel the testosterone surging around her.

  “What have I done?” Her words were lost in the surrounding noise of the club as she watched on in sheer horror at just the thought that she could be the reason that these two friends—Riley and his teenage hero—were about to come to blows, knowing she only had herself to blame for this drama unfolding in front of her, in such a public arena.

  The moment seemed to last forever, but finally Rook abruptly turned and walked away, without saying a word.

  Pippa burst into tears.

  * * * *

  Riley had insisted on escorting Pippa and Cassie home. “So, you going to tell me what that was all about, what’s going on with you and Rook?” he asked, the minute he set foot in Pippa and Cassie’s home.

  “I’ve made a huge mistake, Riley.” Pippa sobbed as she found herself once again explaining her deception and subsequent night with Rook.

  Pippa was reluctant to meet her childhood friend’s eye as she confessed her sins, didn’t want to see the condemnation on his face at her actions. But when she did finally find the courage to lift her head and face his wrath, all she found was a look of concern in Riley’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Pippa, I’m struggling with this. How did Rook not recognise you? Even with the change to your hair colour and length, I knew it was you straight away, and I didn’t get all up close and personal.” He added, still shaking his head in apparent disbelief, “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe Rook knew all along and was just going with it…playing along?”

  Pippa knew that hadn’t been the case. She had seen the look on Rook’s face as Brodie had introduced her at that initial meet-and-greet session.

  Rook had been dismayed at her deception. It was the only thing that could explain his continued animosity towards her.

  “You know, you could be right, gorgeous. Sexy and smart—it’s my lucky night,” Cassie chimed in. “I’ve been telling Pip to just let it go, but even I felt the tension between them tonight, Riley. I think Rook needs to get over himself. He’s not a saint, or at least his reputation doesn’t hold up to that idea. So they had a night—big deal.”

  Pippa was exhausted. She was sick of talking, sick of thinking, and it seemed that her two friends had struck up their own personal friendship. To be honest, Pippa did not even want to think about what was going on there. But it certainly looked cosy, what with Riley settling in, looking as if he was in no hurry to leave.

  After excusing herself, Pippa went to her room and crawled into bed, leaving Cassie and Riley alone in the kitchen to finish their tea, and more than likely dissect the night and its drama some more. And goodness knows what else, she thought, trying hard not to accidentally picture her two friends together, sexually.

  As she lay staring up at the ceiling, Pippa wondered if her heart would ever mend or the pain lessen. She had actually deluded herself, for just a moment, into thinking Rook was about to kiss her, as he’d held her on the dance-floor just before Riley had intervened. But that possibility had been quickly squashed by Rook’s silent, angry exit. She was thankful for small mercies that Rook and Riley had not fought—that would have been an uncomfortable conversation to have with Brodie and Caitlin, trying to explain why Brodie’s team captain and his brother-in-law had come to blows.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A month passed quickly.

  Pippa had managed to tread carefully around Rook, making sure she was never alone with him. He had not requested any pre-training strapping or massage, so it had been relatively easy to keep a distance between them. The rest of the team had made her feel welcome, and had listened attentively to her advice with regards to the treatment of any injuries. The players had all become comfortable enough for her to massage and work on them.

  All except Rook.

  Gareth had proven to be quite an ally, and very easy to be around. Pippa found herself spending more and more time in his company. Gareth was interested in her Kinesio strapping methods and was trying them on his hamstrings, having torn tendons in both hamstrings at different times in past seasons.

  Country-born Gareth was finding life in the city difficult, complaining to Pippa that city girls were too forward for him, the streets too busy, and the life too fast. He loved playing rugby league—it was the only thing that was keeping him away from the open spaces of his hometown, Gunnedah, a rural town situated in the far north-west of New South Wales.

  Pippa felt sorry for Gareth, but could understand how the city women found it hard to resist him. The shy country boy was easy on the eye. Tall and muscular like most rugby forwards, he had broad shoulders and bulging biceps. Pippa could picture him in R.M. Williams boots, hat pulled low over his blond hair, shading his blue eyes from the sun, and his arm muscles bulging from lifting bales of hay back on the farm, instead of the metal weights he was now lifting in the gym.

  Pippa also learned more about Gareth’s apparent sadness. He had left a woman back home, which she had guessed. The tale was difficult to hear and her heart broke for him as he told her of his Emily.

  “It’s a lost cause, Em and me. I just need to move on and forget about her,” Gareth admitted to Pippa one night as they sat together amicably, feigning interest in the television, but really both just needing to connect with another soul.

  It was clear to Pippa that ‘moving on’ had not happened for poor Gareth yet. The city seemed not to have lessened his loss at all. Gareth was not just a very talented footballer—he was also an all-around nice guy. He gave one hundred per cent on and off the field, and was always one of the first to volunteer for any good cause.

  “Is it really that bad? You don’t think there is any chance of her waking up and realising how much she is missing out on? Gareth, you’re a great guy. I can’t believe anyone would let you go… She’s crazy, in my opinion. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks for the endorsement, Pippa, but I have to learn to live with it, ’cause being miserable is getting mighty tiresome.”

  “Here’s to misery, then, and friendship.” Pippa rai
sed her teacup and tapped it gently against Gareth’s sports drink.

  Pippa understood misery and being apart from the love of your life, and especially the feeling of being rejected by that love.

  * * * *

  Pippa had been relieved to find that she liked most of the team—the men, ranging in ages from late teens to late twenties, were good-natured and polite. Some of the guys were a bit cocky and sure of themselves. But then, that was to be expected with the way the fans treated them like royalty one minute and the devil incarnate the next, depending on the team’s successes.

  Life had settled into a routine. Cassie had started her teaching position and was enjoying her role at the local high school. She had made an immediate impression on her students by talking about spending time with the Jets players and coaching staff, and admitting her best friend was the team’s physio. She told Pippa that she would use any advantage to get the kids to take an interest in what she had to teach them, but was sick of spending half of every lesson fielding questions on what Rook was really like and how Gareth’s hamstrings were, and would he be fit for the first round?

  Cassie and Riley were spending a great deal of time together. Riley was back at university, studying sports management. He also worked at the local pool—the same pool at Leichhardt that he had trained and competed in as a youngster—teaching learn-to-swim classes and coaching the more talented swimmers. Most nights, though, Riley spent with Pippa and Cassie.

  Pippa could see that the pair were growing very close, which just made her feel even more heartbroken and lonely. Gareth had joined them on a few occasions, as he seemed to enjoy the family feel of their home—especially the home cooking, he had commented on that fact more than once—but Pippa just felt he was as lonely in life as her and was reaching out for companionship. Cassie and Pippa both enjoyed cooking, and it was always more satisfying to cook for an appreciative guest or two, so it was no hardship. And of course, Cassie could get another snippet of team-talk to tell her students the next day.

  Gareth had even organised with Brodie for a few of the players to go along to the school and give the students some tips on participating in sports and staying healthy. Cassie had scored some brownie points with the school principal over that coup.

  All in all, life was rolling on productively for both Pippa and Cassie, but Pippa still felt hollow inside. Every time she saw Rook her body went into overdrive—her heart would race, her mouth would go dry, and the gnawing ache in her chest would start.

  Nothing had changed.

  Since the time she’d been fifteen, seeing Rook had always affected Pippa the same way, but now it was worse. Now she knew exactly what she was missing.

  * * * *

  Finally, it was the first game of the season. The pre-match preparations were in full swing when Pippa arrived at the ground. Caterers were setting up the food stalls, cleaning staff and ground staff were racing around, and everyone was seemingly panicked. Pippa made her way to the medical and treatment rooms to begin her own preparations. She laid out massage liniment, cut strapping and black Kinesio tape, filled ice bags, made sure all was in readiness. She was nervous, and tried to put it down to first-game nerves…but she knew it was more than that.

  It wasn’t long before Pippa didn’t have time for nerves, as the treatment room was filled with masculine bodies. The smell of liniment was strong in the air as the players were rubbed and strapped in readiness for the battle ahead. Pippa had a team of student physios to assist her as well as the usual strappers, and was busy giving advice and supervising proceedings, not really paying attention to the half-naked bodies that lay on the massage tables around the room, just the individual muscles and tendons that needed attention.

  Pippa noticed one of her trainees was a little overawed and was not massaging professionally enough. She quickly moved the girl aside, and got to work warming and loosening up the player’s tight muscles—time was limited and all the players needed to be seen. The minute her hands made contact with skin, she realised her mistake. The electric charge that sped up her arm left no doubt as to who was face down on the table and her body’s reaction to him was instantaneous.

  Rook.

  Pippa hesitated slightly and looked up, only to be scorched to her core by Rook’s silver eyes, as he lifted his head from the table and turned towards her.

  Pippa hurried to finish Rook’s massage. Her body was on fire. She tried to ignore the feel of his muscles beneath her fingers as she massaged up his well-toned calf over his hamstrings, then his lower back, fighting the ever-present urge to grab hold of his gorgeous behind.

  “Sit up, Rook, and I’ll strap your ankles,” a flustered Pippa managed to croak out.

  Rook slowly rolled over onto his back. It was impossible to not notice the bulge in his Speedos, as his erection strained hard against the tight material of the swimwear he wore under his playing shorts.

  Pippa’s mouth went dry at the sight of his arousal. She casually dropped the towel that she had been drying her hands on over his lap, hoping to prevent any further embarrassment for Rook, and set to work strapping tape around his ankles. Strapping would give extra support and stability to the joints throughout the punishing game. When she had finished, the tape securely fastened, she finally looked up. Rook was staring at her, the hunger showing in his eyes so apparent it made her heart skip a beat.

  The room was full of people, the noise levels high, and yet for Pippa, there was no one else but Rook.

  Just Rook…and desire.

  It was as if they had been sucked into a different dimension. The room’s sounds and smells were muted, distant. They must have held eye contact for an eternity. Just as Pippa was about to confess to Rook her reason for deceiving him—that he was her fantasy man and always would be, but that she had worried that he would again refuse her advances if he had known her true identity—Brodie summoned the team to come together for warm-up.

  Pippa watched Rook drag his gaze from her. She put her hand on his arm, trying to stop him from leaving before she could make her confession, but he just shook off her touch.

  Rook walked away.

  Rejected her again.

  Would she never learn? Pippa slumped back to her knees, trying to pull her emotions back under control.

  “Hey, Pip, you okay?”

  Gareth’s voice was full of genuine concern and maybe something else—Pippa couldn’t quite make it out.

  “Come on, I’ll help you up,” he said, and he gently lifted her to her feet. “You and Rook need to talk. It’s obvious, the attraction between you two. I don’t mind admitting I’m as jealous as hell, and I hate to see you hurting like this over him. I wish I could make you forget him.” Gareth, looking saddened by his inability to fix the situation, just shook his head before leaving her to join the rest of the team.

  Pippa was confused at Gareth’s words. Her mind was reeling. How on earth was she going to get through the season? She was having enough trouble getting through the first game. Perhaps she should take up her father’s offer and relocate to the UK. Her father, now coach of a rugby league team situated in the north of England, had more than once offered her a position with him. That way, she could be reunited with her mother as well. And at this moment in Pippa’s life, a hug and some sympathy from her mum was definitely required.

  But Pippa still had a job to do today, so she pulled herself together, at least for the moment. While the players and coaching staff went through their last-minute game plans, Pippa busied herself tidying up her equipment, checking supplies and wiping down the massage tables as her team of workers buzzed with excitement over their recent hands-on experience around her.

  During the game, Pippa stayed behind in the now empty Jets treatment room underneath the grandstand, waiting for half-time, when the players would return for a brief respite from their action-packed game. She would need to work quickly then, to treat any injuries and re-tape as need be, so the team could return to the field for the second half and f
inish the game. There would be no time to worry about Rook or Gareth.

  After the game would be equally as hectic. Pippa and her team would apply ice-packs to injuries and record those injuries that would need extra attention during the week. She was hoping that all the activity would keep her from thinking about Rook, and how good he had felt beneath her fingers again. The errant thought caused images of their one night together to flood her mind. Tears pooled behind her eyes, and Pippa bunched her hands into fists and pressed them into her eye sockets to keep the emotional flood that threatened from spilling free.

  A commotion coming from the tunnel drew Pippa’s attention from her gloom. She heard Flash Mannering, the team runner, shout for her. Flash was one of the former players—his role at the Jets was to run onto the field during the games and give players water or instructions from the coach, or to assist injured players. By the sound of the agitation in his voice, Pippa knew something was terribly wrong. She hurried out of the treatment room and into the medical room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rook knew the minute he heard the crack that his knee was gone, probably for the season. He knew enough about cruciate ligaments to know that if he had torn his, he was going to need surgery and a long rehabilitation. As he lay on the medicab, being transported off the field, he was not only devastated but also in a shitload of pain.

  Right from the get-go, his day had been fucked up, starting with when he’d been getting strapped and warmed up. It didn’t matter that he had been lying face down on the massage table—he had instantly felt the change when a strapper’s hands had been replaced by the electrifying sensations of Pippa’s fingers, setting fire to him. He had only with incredible fortitude been able to resist the urge to drag her into his arms. The second she had touched him, his body had gone haywire—sensory overload. His cock, rising into a full, rigid erection, had tried to burst free from the confines of his tight underwear.