Once Upon a Player

by Christina Phillips

  “I don’t. And I’ll have mine white with no sugar, please.”

  As I pour the coffee, I can’t stop watching her as she takes her equipment out of the room. What would she say if I told her I’m tired of casual, and open relationships are the only ones I’ve ever had because that’s all that’s on offer?

  She’d probably think I was spinning her another line.

  Chapter Five

  Lucas

  Two Weeks Later

  Today, I officially move into the penthouse. The place is now full of my personal crap spread across a showcase interior. Violet will either be ecstatic when she sees the mess she has to work with, or she’ll have a fit.

  Right at eight p.m., there’s a rap on the front door, and I’m still grinning as I stroll across the hallway. Violet’s been here four times during the last two weeks, when we discussed the redesign of the room and she showed me various configurations on her laptop. She never stayed longer than a couple of hours, we haven’t touched, her smile is driving me crazy, and I can’t wait until we see each other again.

  I’m fucking doomed.

  “Hey,” I greet my twin brother, Harry, as I pull open the door, and he steps inside, a six-pack hanging off his finger. He pauses and sweeps his glance around the hall.

  “This is nothing like your old flat.”

  Nothing like his apartment, either. “It’s not a Grade II listed property, but I have it on good authority it’s a great investment.”

  Harry grunts in apparent approval, and I slap him on the shoulder and lead the way into the kitchen, where a dozen recently delivered cartons of takeaway Thai are spread across the worktop. Harry pulls the lids off a couple of cartons, and the aroma of the spicy stir-fry makes my gut grumble.

  “You expecting anyone else?” He hands me a beer, and I know what he’s really asking.

  “Nah. Just you and me, bro. Unless you want to go out later. The lads and I are going to Hydra.”

  “Once was enough.”

  He doesn’t bother hiding his shudder, and I laugh. My brother might be a genius, but he hates socializing. Although, to be fair, since he started going out with Alice last summer, his people skills have improved.

  Marginally.

  “I’m guessing you don’t want Hydra V.I.P. tickets to celebrate our birthday, then.”

  “Fuck, no.” He shoots me a horrified glare, and his drunken noodles drop off his chopsticks. “We can go to my local. I’ll bring Alice.”

  I groan. “It’s our quarter century, Harry. I’m not getting rat-arsed at the Slurping Toad, all right? I’ve hired the rooftop for the party—I told you that months ago, remember? Anyway, don’t you think Alice’d like to go someone different for a change?”

  “She likes the pub.” Harry frowns, obviously clueless. “She doesn’t do nightclubs.”

  Although I could probably persuade him to change his plans so we can celebrate big for one night, it’s not worth it. And if I’m honest, I enjoy hanging out with my brother at his local, where there’s less chance of being spotted by fans or the paparazzi. Sometimes I forget there’s more to a social life than being seen in exclusive clubs and partying with the stars.

  I take a swig of beer to disguise my choke of laughter. If Violet could’ve read my mind then, she’d give me one of her you’re so up yourself looks. The way she did that first morning we met.

  “Fine, you win. The Toad it is on Friday night. I’ll drag Will along, you bring Caleb. Mac’ll be there—she’s home next weekend.”

  I know that for a fact, since she’s coming to the Hydra party on Saturday. Our sister might be in her second year studying medicine at university, but she also inherited the same social genes I did.

  Harry visibly relaxes and digs into his food with renewed relish. “How long before you know if you can play again?”

  “Another month.”

  “Reckon you’ll get the all clear?”

  “Yeah, course I will.” This is Harry. When we were kids, we shared everything, despite being so different. And although for a few years, things weren’t so great between us, over the last ten months we’ve got back on track. Due to the confidentiality clauses, I can’t tell him about the possible transfer, but at least I can drop the facade. “I don’t know. It’s killing me.”

  He folds his arms on the worktop and gives me one of his intense gazes. “What’s the official prognosis?”

  “I shouldn’t have a problem.”

  “What’s your plan B?”

  Flippant responses flash through my mind, and I discard them all. “Yolanda reckons I could have a successful career as a model.”

  “Right.” He nods, but it’s obvious he can’t think of any worse career than parading in public. Although I’ve never minded strutting my stuff in front of the cameras, and I enjoy the various sponsorship deals that Bec’s negotiated for me—some of them don’t even require that I go shirtless—I can’t say doing it full-time appeals.

  Which is why plan B isn’t an option. I didn’t bust my balls getting into the club of my dreams just to see it all go to hell. I’ve accepted that I won’t make the preseason tour later this month, but my knee will get better and I will play again. End of story.

  “What about you? Still on track for total world domination?” I’m only half joking. His RPG is doing phenomenally, and since he expanded into the States, The Plains of Exitium has been nominated for loads of international game awards.

  “Getting there.” He grins at me. “Next time you come over, I’ll show you what we’ve got planned for the next expansion.”

  “Cool.” The lads and I often play TPoE. Hell, practically everyone I know plays it. Even our dad’s a fan now, which is bloody mind-blowing considering how devastated he was when Harry turned down going to university in favor of hanging out in his best mate Caleb’s basement so he could “mess about with coding.”

  Not that Dad thought my choice of career was any better when I was signed up at seventeen. Only difference is he still doesn’t think much of it.

  He’s not likely to change his mind now.

  Harry jabs his chopsticks in my direction. “I’ll give you a clue. The Empress of the Fire Mountain discovers her true heritage. It’s epic.”

  Considering the Empress already commands a dozen dragons in her arsenal, I’m intrigued, but know better than to ask for more details. When it comes to his world, he’s fiercely protective, and before he started dating Alice, he never shared insider info with me.

  Thank God for Alice. She didn’t just bring Harry back to the real world. She annihilated the memory of his one and only previous girlfriend, who’d hung between us like a malignant specter.

  Clare, the beautiful, straight-A student, who’d never given me a second glance all through high school, and who’d dated my brother for a year. Intellectually, they were the perfect match. Everyone said so.

  Until I hit the big time, and then she thought nothing of doing the dirty on my own brother just to get to me.

  Who would’ve guessed she craved her moment in the limelight?

  Stop thinking about it.

  I haven’t asked Violet out again since she confided about her ex, but I’m hoping she’ll change her mind about the dating thing. The only problem is I don’t know if her breakup was recent and she’s still in love with the nameless jerk.

  For some reason, the longer I know Violet, the more it pisses me off that some guy hurt her so badly. And much as I want to go out with her, I don’t want to be her rebound fuck. How screwed up is that?

  “How long were you friends with Alice before you asked her out?” I know she used to work for him before she left to go to university, but I can’t remember the details.

  “We’re still friends.”

  I groan. “Yeah, all right. You know what I mean.”

  “Eight months.”

  Fuck. “That’s a long time.”

  “And we’ve been together for ten months.”

  “All right. Don’t rub it i
n.” It’s a throwaway comment, but I should’ve known my brother wouldn’t let that one go.

  “What?” He sounds genuinely amazed. “Since when do you want a committed relationship?”

  “Harry.” I give an exaggerated sigh. “Stop taking everything so literally.”

  He ignores me. “Is this about Yolanda?”

  While he often dives off on a tangent, this is random, even for him. “Huh?”

  “You and Yolanda. You’ve been friends for a while. She’s all right. Dad likes her, too.”

  “We’ve been mates for four years.” He knows damn well there’s nothing between Yolanda and me.

  And sure, Dad likes her. Why wouldn’t he? He might not understand her modeling career, but she’s academically brilliant, just like the rest of my family.

  “You’re still playing the field?” He grimaces, and to be honest I’m surprised he even noticed his gaffe. More brownie points for Alice.

  “Yep.” Which isn’t true, as I haven’t even flirted with another girl since meeting Violet, but I’m not about to tell Harry that. He’s so loved up, he’d probably jump to the conclusion she’s my soul mate or something equally cheesy.

  “Rather you than me.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault I got the irresistibility gene.”

  He shudders. “I don’t know how you do it. All those different girls. Nightmare.”

  “Harry, you’re so fucking weird.” At school, he was the monosyllabic Carter, while I never shut up. Teachers forgave him because he was so clever, whereas I spent half my time outside the principal’s office or in detention.

  People couldn’t understand why we were such good mates. Sure, we were twins, but it’s like we came from different planets. He’s a freaking genius and has never cared if people thought he was an antisocial dickwad. If he knew how many of the fights I got into when we were kids were in his defense, he’d be gobsmacked.

  I didn’t have a fraction of his smarts, and sometimes I had no idea what he was talking about, but I had fists and agility, and no one dissed my brother.

  Nothing much has changed, except no one laughs at him anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Violet

  It’s almost the end of my Friday night shift at Sycamore Lodge, and Leonardo, a guest who checked in three days ago, is reading me some of his poetry.

  “Fiery tresses blaze a storm across my soul,

  Her eyes, unforgiving emerald, see far beyond the stars,

  Alas! Her stone-cold heart eludes my withered touch.”

  He snaps his notebook shut and gazes at me with puppy-dog brown eyes, a few blond tendrils of hair escaping his man bun and falling over his face.

  I clear my throat. I know nothing of poetry and don’t have a clue what to make of the opus he’s just subjected me to, but I’m pretty sure about one thing.

  “That’s me, isn’t it, with the stony cold heart?”

  His sigh is dramatic. “The moment our eyes met, I knew I’d found my muse.”

  According to Katie, Leo stays at the Lodge every July and discovers at least five muses to inspire him every time. When she told me this, I thought it was dead creepy, but she said, despite his drama queen theatrics, he’s one of the good guys. Seeing as Katie takes bullshit from no one, I reserved judgment. After all, one of the reasons I took this job was so I’d meet different people.

  “When are you publishing your anthology, then?”

  He drops his gooey expression and folds his arms on the counter between us. “I’m researching covers as we speak.”

  “Have you talked to Lisle? She’s an amazing artist.” Lisle arrived as I was knocking off yesterday, but we got talking, and she ended up showing me some of her work. Amazing doesn’t do her incredible portraits justice. Someone with that kind of talent should be raking in the money, not have to work minimum wage casual jobs to backpack around Europe in the hope of making it.

  “Yeah, we hung out in the bar last night with the others. Her work’s great, but I’m looking for something more…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Byronic.”

  “Okay.” I nod, even though I don’t agree with his vision. Although, maybe his other stuff is dark and moody. Another guest comes up looking for some info on the local area, and the phone decides to go crazy, but finally, ten minutes after my shift ends, I leave.

  For once, Katie and I aren’t doing the White Hart happy hour, and it doesn’t take long to drive to her place. I hope she’s ready to leave, because I’m starving. We’re going to a newly opened grill house, and it’s kind of sad that I’m so excited about it. Not about the grill house so much, but the fact I’m not spending a Friday night vegging out with Netflix.

  I ring the doorbell, and she opens it straightaway. “Let’s go,” she mutters, taking my arm and frog-marching me back to the car. I guess her mum’s arsehole boyfriend’s drunk again. It’s the only time Katie gets that pinched look on her face.

  And then I notice what she’s wearing—a short black skirt and rainbow heels to die for, and her makeup’s flawless. All I’m wearing is the Lodge uniform, and while it’s okay, it’s a freaking work uniform.

  “We’re just going to the Tower Grill tonight, right?” I double check as I start the car.

  “That’s our first stop.” She flips down the sun visor and frowns at her reflection in the small mirror. “Then we’re going back to your place where you can change into something smoking hot. We’re going clubbing tonight.”

  “I don’t want to go clubbing.”

  “It’ll be fun. The girls are really nice. Nothing like back-stabbing, freak-faced Monica.”

  My eye twitches the way it always does when her name is mentioned. “I know they’re nice. It’s nothing to do with them.”

  Even though I haven’t seen Katie’s other friends for a while, we did hang out together a few times when Katie and I reconnected. Not that Monica joined us after the first time, since she reckoned they weren’t in her league.

  Katie lets out a loud sigh. “Come on, Violet. You need to do this. I’m all for studying hard to get ahead, but you really need to get out more. I know you’re over the fuckwit, but not all guys are like him.”

  I’ve always known that, even if I didn’t want to face it. And I’ve met more new people in the last two weeks than I have during the whole of the last year. Although working at the Lodge means I don’t have as much time to spend on my assignments, it’s worth it. I don’t want to go back to my cave.

  The image of Lucas’s sinful smile and Mediterranean blue gaze swims into my mind. I try and ignore the accompanying butterflies that swarm around my stomach, and manage not to let a dreamy sigh escape.

  I’m seeing him again tomorrow morning. In a purely professional capacity, except it’s hard to make myself believe that. Sure, we talk business, and he hasn’t asked me out again, but there’s this sizzling undercurrent whenever we’re in the same room, and it’s crazily addictive.

  Don’t fall for him.

  I’ve lost count how many times my brain has told me that, but there’s no need. Just because he’s so easy to talk to and fun to be with doesn’t mean he’s starting to see me as anything more than a harder-than-usual conquest.

  Why did I even think that? It’s not as though I want him to be serious about me, is it?

  I park the car as close to the Tower Grill as possible, and Katie gives me a piercing look. “Nothing’s happened between you and Lucas Carter that you haven’t told me, has it?”

  Why would she say that? We weren’t even talking about him. Can she read my mind, or what? I resist the mad urge to pat my hot cheeks, and silently curse my constant inability to hide my most private thoughts from her.

  There’s only one possible response to her. “I’m not stupid.”

  “I know you’re not, but whenever you think about him you kind of glow.”

  I scoff, mainly so my horror doesn’t seep through. I glow? really? Jesus, I hope I don’t glow all over Lucas whenever he speaks to me.r />
  “You can’t possibly know when I think about him.” What the fuck did I just say? I scramble to backtrack, but it’s too late, because Katie groans and grabs my hand.

  “You really need to tell him you can’t see him anymore. I know he’s great and nothing like dick-face, but he’s still one of them.”

  Sure, I’ve told her how great Lucas is, but I definitely never said he wasn’t anything like Geoff. Even though he isn’t.

  I’m kind of mad at Katie for pointing out the obvious to me, and with myself for clearly needing the reminder. Lucas flirts because it’s second nature to him, not because he thinks I’m special. I don’t even want to imagine how many girls he’s slept with during the last couple of weeks.

  It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it does. I give Katie a big fake smile. “What club are we going to?”

  The following morning, my head pounds like a jackhammer, and I don’t have the energy to get up even when Mum brings me in a cup of tea and sits on the edge of my bed.

  “Did you have a good time?” Her voice sounds unnaturally loud. I wince and pull the sheet over my head. “Looks like you did, then.” She sounds thrilled, and with a defeated grunt, since I’m obviously not going to get a well-deserved lie-in this morning, I peel back the sheet and peer at her through my tangled hair. She’s been back to her old self for the last week, and it’s easy to slip into our old routines again.

  “It was all right.” I struggle to sit up, and yawn. Since I only had one drink last night. I’m not hung over from alcohol, just loud music, a late night, and way too many wankers who think copping a feel is part of a night out.

  Mum pushes my hair back from my face, the way she used to when I was a little girl. “Dad and I are so pleased you’re going out again.”

  Since I don’t have an answer for that, I pick up my tea and take a sip. It was fun seeing the girls and catching up on gossip. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to figure out the entire world doesn’t revolve around professional football.

  But having a football-obsessed dad, not to mention a former best friend whose dad is a top manager, almost everyone I knew was connected to that world in some way.