Once Upon a Player

by Christina Phillips

  “Well.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other before edging toward the door. “I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

  …

  Violet

  Lucas walks with me out of his penthouse and right to my car and then watches me drive off, so I can’t freak out until I’ve driven around the corner, when I pull over and rest my forehead against the steering wheel.

  I just agreed to go out with Lucas Carter.

  Only to help him out, as a thank you.

  Yeah, right. I don’t think even he believed that load of rubbish, but I’m too keyed up to care. Obviously, my cringe-worthy lack of social life didn’t make him think I was a loser, although what was I thinking, dragging sodding Geoff into the conversation?

  I give a dramatic shudder. At least Lucas didn’t seem to mind, but then, why would he? As he pointed out, more than once, on Friday night we’re going out as mates.

  It doesn’t stop the ridiculous grin from splitting my face, though. Because although I’ve no intention of ever dating another player, the truth is I don’t want to stop seeing Lucas. And unless I’m totally misreading all the signals coming from him, he wants to keep seeing me, too, and not in a good mates only kind of way.

  You’re going to get burned, Vi.

  No, I’m not. We both know the score.

  I groan. I’m so lying to myself. Why did he have to be a top footballer? If he were anything else, we’d be dating already.

  And he’s nothing like his rep.

  Hmm. I’m not so sure about that. He flirts like a pro.

  I daydream for a while about his beautiful blue eyes and dimples to die for, when I remember I’m scheduled to work on Friday night.

  “Shit.” There’s no way I’m canceling on Lucas. I pull out my phone and text Katie.

  Meet you for lunch?

  We meet in our favorite burger bar, and over a plate of chips, Katie checks her staff roster on her phone.

  “I’ll see if Tristan or Shell can swap their Saturday night shift for your Friday. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why do you want to swap? Have you changed your mind about going to Aphrodite’s next week?”

  This could be tricky. “No. And before you say anything, I do know what I’m doing.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s got anything to do with Lucas Carter.”

  “He just wants me to go to a family thing for his birthday. It’s not a date.” Must keep telling myself that.

  “A family thing?” She says it like I just told her we’re going to an orgy.

  I sigh. “As friends.”

  Katie eats a few chips, but I’m not fooled that the subject is closed. She takes a sip of her cola before narrowing her eyes at me. “Look. I don’t know anything about footballers, only what you’ve told me. And the only one you’ve ever told me about is Geoff fuck-face, who I always thought was a real prick even before he did the dirty on you. What am I supposed to think?”

  “I know. But Lucas is so easy to get along with. He’s different from when he’s on the TV.” Huh, I hadn’t even thought about that before, but it’s true. When he’s interviewed, he always looks sexy, even if he’s all sweaty straight from the pitch, but he never says anything that has any depth.

  Not that we’ve ever had a deep philosophical discussion, but in real life, he’s not nearly as superficial as he comes across on the screen.

  Is anyone?

  Since I don’t have an answer for that, I decide to ignore it.

  “If you say so.” She picks up another chip. “Have you kissed him yet?”

  “Did you miss the friends thing?”

  “No, but you’re still doing the glowing thing.”

  I decide to ignore that, too. Especially since I’m starting to obsess about kissing him. What about a friendly birthday kiss?

  Bad idea. And then it hits me.

  “Crap.”

  “What?”

  “It’s his birthday. What the hell am I going to get him?”

  Katie doesn’t look fazed by my mini-meltdown. “Why d’you need to get him anything? You’re not dating.”

  “Not helping.”

  “Well, I don’t know. What do you get the guy who has everything?”

  “Still not helping.”

  “Guys are so hard to buy for. It’d be easy if you were going out with him. You could just put on some badass underwear and wrap yourself up in a big bow.”

  “Um…” Words fail, as all I can see is Lucas unwrapping me as his special birthday treat. Definitely not happening.

  “What about some kind of footbally thingy?”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?”

  “Nope.” Katie pops the last chip in her mouth. “Aren’t you glad you asked me for some ideas?”

  Chapter Eight

  Violet

  It’s not a date. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make the most of it, and so in honor of the occasion, I bought new black jeans and a cute summer top. I might’ve also splashed out and got an adorable pair of strappy sandals.

  When I get downstairs, Dad’s hovering at the front room door, and I know what’s coming. “I’ll phone you at eight.”

  It’s no good arguing with him. When I told him, and Mum, I was seeing Lucas tonight, they obviously didn’t believe my insistence that it wasn’t a date. Then again, I’m crappy at keeping secrets, and I’m sure Mum’s already guessed how much I like him. “Okay.”

  “You tell Lucas, ‘that’s my stepdad,’ and if there’s any problem, you call me Pete when you answer the phone.”

  I can’t help myself. “Honestly, Dad. Lucas isn’t a crazy serial killer.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Fine.” I shake my head and kiss his cheek. He came up with this safety check idea the first time I went out with Geoff, and if I’d had any other boyfriends, I’m sure I would’ve got the same pep talk. “You should GPS track me.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “I was joking.” I laugh and blow Mum a kiss as I make my way along the hall.

  “You look lovely,” she says, snuggling into Dad, and Sam makes gagging noises from behind them. “Have a fab night. See you later.”

  It’s only ten to seven by the time I arrive at Lucas’s, and so I park around the corner to wait for a few minutes. For the hundredth time tonight, I pull out the handmade invitation that’s in my bag and scrutinize it. I’m having serious second thoughts about giving it to him, but despite having all week to think about it, I couldn’t come up with any gift idea that didn’t seem either too OTT or just plain stupid.

  This falls into the stupid category.

  Maybe I won’t give it to him, after all.

  I shove it back into my bag, and the minutes crawl by, which does nothing for my nerves. Last night I Googled Harry Carter, as he and Lucas have sometimes been in the gossip columns together, and I remember Harry being called the brainiac twin. I’d never known why, but always thought it was kind of insulting to Lucas.

  Well, I know now why the press calls him that. He’s the mastermind behind Blitz, the company that’s gone global with The Plains of Exitium. It’s an online game that Sam’s always talking about even though he’s way too young to play it. Talk about a gifted family. I wonder what their sister’s brilliant at?

  As soon as it’s seven, I heave a sigh of relief and drive to Lucas’s apartment block. Thrills race through me when he’s waiting for me at the gated entrance to the underground car park. He looks as though he’s just stepped out of one of his sponsorship ads, in dark jeans and an open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. My heart does a completely unnecessary little flip in my chest, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe properly.

  He rests one hand on the roof of my car and grins at me through the open window. “Hey, Violet.”

  Butterflies dance through my chest. It’s sad how much I love hearing him say my name. “Hey, yourself, Lucas. Happy birthda
y.”

  I should’ve got him a birthday card, but I didn’t have a clue what kind to get him, although I was tempted by the dirty joke section. Except I’m not sure we know each other well enough for that, and I could hardly get him a romantic one, could I?

  “Thanks.” He strolls around the car and gets in beside me before clicking a remote that opens the security gates. “You can park in my guest bay.”

  His cologne is subtle, and I only breathe in the faintest hint of sandalwood and spices, but it’s enough to make my pulses flutter as though I’m about to bungee jump off a mountain.

  Luckily, I manage not to make a twat of myself by drooling over his magnificent thighs, which look just as fabulous encased in denim as they do when accentuated in micro football shorts.

  Once I’ve parked and locked up, he opens the door to a flash sports car that Dad would die for. “I can’t remember if I told you we’re meeting Harry and everyone in Bromley? It’s about an hour’s drive.”

  An hour’s drive with Lucas, in a car that looks like something from the twenty-second century, sounds good to me. “No problem. Is that where your brother lives?”

  “Yep. He’s a total genius, but I better warn you, socializing isn’t his forte. If he doesn’t say much, don’t take it personally. That’s just the way he is with people he doesn’t know well.”

  I try to imagine how Lucas’s identical twin could possibly be so different from him, and fail. As I slide into the car, the rich scent of leather with a hint of lemon surrounds me. The carpets are pristine, and everything is sparkling. No old fast food boxes or sweet wrappers litter the floor like in Dad’s car. Then again, it’d be criminal to let a car like this stink like a three-week-old burger.

  As we leave the car park, I sink into the seat and surreptitiously ogle Lucas’s hands on the steering wheel. Should a guy’s hands be such a turn-on? After a year of focusing on my studies and living like a nun, my imagination sure is making up for lost time in the few weeks since I met him.

  Not just my imagination. All my girly bits are melty and warm, reminding me how long it’s been since they’ve received any attention, and I press my thighs together and mentally grit my teeth.

  Lucas is great fun, and I like him way more than I should, but friends is all we’ll ever be. And that’s only temporary. Once he’s playing again, back in the limelight, there won’t be any place for this weird thing between us.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?” Even though I wasn’t thinking anything bad, guilt drips through me as I turn to him. He glances at me and gives me his bone-melting smile, which does nothing to cool my hot visions of getting naked with him right now, in his car.

  Stop thinking about sex. I grip my bag on my lap in the vain hope that’ll help kill my out-of-control lust, but obviously the celibacy dam has busted, and I’m a goner.

  “You looked like you were having second thoughts about tonight. It wasn’t what I said about Harry, was it? He’s all right. And my sister’s great. And if you want to leave after ten minutes, just give me a kick under the table, and we’ll be out of there.”

  Oh, great. Now he thinks I’m being a precious princess. Wait—that’s better than him guessing what I was really thinking, isn’t it?

  “Of course, it wasn’t anything you said. I was just…” I hesitate, since I have to tell him something and I suck big-time at lying. But there’s no way I’m confessing that I desperately wish there could be more between us. “Just thinking about something that happened at work. That’s all.”

  Violet Henderson, are you fucking insane? Why would any girl be thinking about work when she’s alone with Lucas freaking Carter?

  Luckily, he doesn’t appear offended, but did I really think he would? He’s not up himself at all, and I’ve known that since the day we met.

  “What happened? Anything repeatable?” He flashes me another grin, and all the oxygen in my lungs evaporates. I forcibly unhook my fingers from my bag before I shred the damn thing.

  He knows where I work, and there’s always something happening, so it’s no problem sharing the latest event that Katie’s scheduled. “Next Thursday there’s a life drawing thing. Nudes.”

  “Really? Are you going?”

  “Probably not. I mean I like drawing, but doing nudes isn’t my thing.”

  “My sister Mac’s a great artist. She might want to go.”

  Aha. So that’s what his sister is brilliant at. “I’ll mention it to her.”

  Yeah, not likely. He mentioned in passing the other day that his sister is at university, and if she’s studying art, there’s no way she’d be interested in going to a little beginner’s circle. Besides, if she did come, it kind of sets a Carter precedent, so what’s to stop Lucas from deciding to rock up to the Lodge one night?

  Sycamore Lodge is quirky and down market, and that’s part of the reason Katie loves it so much. I don’t think she’d forgive me if I was the reason Lucas turned up there and made it a hot hang out.

  It seems only a few minutes later that he parks, and I realize we’ve arrived. And I hardly stopped talking the whole journey. He kept asking questions about work and stuff, and was so interested in everything I said, but seriously, in my experience guys much prefer talking about themselves. Then again, since my experience begins and ends with Geoff, that’s hardly conclusive. Except even Katie, who’s had a few more boyfriends to compare with, says the same.

  Which just goes to show how different Lucas is, despite his career.

  “Harry and Alice are here already.” He nods to a Range Rover parked on the other side of the road, but I’m riveted by the sight of the Slurping Toad. I’d imagined some ordinary Victorian pub, but it’s a Gothic Revival stone church, and even has some stained glass in the pointed arched windows.

  I think I’m in love.

  We get out of the car, and for one surreal second, I think Lucas is about to take my hand as we cross the road, but nope. We reach the pub, and he opens the door for me. Inside it’s quite dark, with traditional timber beams and vaulted ceilings, but there’s no time to admire the authentic-looking suit of armor in the corner, or the display of pewter plates and tankards on the mantelpiece above the imposing stone fireplace.

  “They’ll be in the beer garden,” Lucas says, and as he tenses and twists his earring, I think he’s about to say more, but then he gives me a breathtakingly sexy wink. Did I just imagine that weird pause? We make our way toward the back where the arched wooden door is open, and there’s a fair-sized courtyard garden with raised stone fish ponds scattered about. Curved box hedges give the illusion of privacy for the dozen or so tables.

  We approach a couple who are snuggled up together on a bench, and who appear to be in their own world.

  “Oy,” Lucas says to his brother by way of greeting, before giving the blonde girl his famous, dazzling smile. “Hey, Alice.”

  They untangle themselves but are still holding hands. And wow, although it’s obvious Harry and Lucas are twins, it’s amazing how unalike they look. Harry’s hair is darker, he’s not wearing any jewelry, and no tattoos are on display.

  Harry gives his brother the finger before catching sight of me. “Uh,” he says, as though he’s never seen his brother out with a girl before, which is laughable, although not exactly funny. “What happened to Yolanda?”

  Even though we’re not touching, I feel Lucas tense. “This is Violet.” He turns to me. I bite my lip so I don’t giggle. “Violet, this is Alice, who for some reason is dating my brother, Harry.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Violet.” Alice leaps up and pulls her hand free of Harry’s. “You’ll have to ignore Harry. And Yolanda’s a good friend, that’s all.”

  Oh my God, she thinks I’m Lucas’s girlfriend and about to throw a fit over Yolanda. I smile at her, to let her know I’m perfectly fine. “I know. Yolanda’s great.”

  Before I can say anything else, Harry, who by now is also standing, clears his throat. “Sorry, Violet. When Lucas
said he was bringing a plus one, I obviously thought of Yolanda, since she’s the only plus one he ever takes anywhere.”

  Alice looks as though she’d like to sink through the ground, Lucas shoots daggers at his brother, and I have the terrible urge to giggle again. Harry is clearly oblivious.

  “Glad we’ve got that sorted.” Lucas pulls out a chair for me on the opposite side from Alice, which is adorable. I didn’t think guys did that kind of thing anymore. He sits next to me. “You understand why we never take him anywhere.”

  “I missed out on the social genes.” Harry sighs as he sits down, and Alice squeezes his fingers, which is kind of sweet.

  “How long have you two been dating?” Alice asks, obviously hoping to smooth things over.

  “Oh, um, we’re not exactly dating…” Not exactly? How about just saying we’re not dating? Except my brain can’t process that before Lucas interrupts.

  “We’re just good mates.”

  Relief and regret spill through me. “Yes, just good friends.”

  Without the benefits. My face heats. Harry and Alice are definitely going to think Lucas and I are fuck buddies.

  “Violet’s been helping me with the penthouse.”

  “I’m studying to be an interior designer.”

  “She has great ideas.”

  I smile at him, because how nice is that? “You have some beautiful pieces.” And I’m not referring to the immaculate show home furniture, either.

  “You’re friends.” Harry sounds as though the concept is totally alien, which doesn’t make sense. He knows all about Yolanda and clearly doesn’t think there’s anything weird about that. “So is—”

  “Right, drinks all round, then?” Lucas cuts in, and Harry looks at Alice, who shakes her head and gives him a small smile. How long have they been dating? It’s like they communicate without having to actually speak.

  My phone rings, and I freeze. I’d forgotten Dad was going to check up on things. I could ignore it, but then they’d both freak that something terrible had happened, and it’s not worth the fallout. As unobtrusively as possible I pull my phone from my bag, while Lucas attempts to persuade his brother to have some champagne instead of beer.