Once Upon a Player

by Christina Phillips

  “Aww, that’s so sweet.” Yolanda doesn’t sound as though she’s mocking me. “The real Lucas Carter isn’t so bad, is he?”

  “Standing right here,” Lucas says.

  “And you’re loving it,” Yolanda tells him.

  “No, he’s not bad at all.” Our gazes mesh, and as always, his blue eyes slay me. I wish we could leave. All I want is for him to hold me tight and tell me everything’s going to be all right, but the boat is booked until two a.m., and I don’t expect the partying will stop then. There’re always nightclubs to hit.

  “Luuuucas!” The shrill female voice blasts through me, and I blink, disorientated, as three stunningly beautiful girls throw themselves at him like a trio of leeches.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lucas

  “Hey, Penelope.” I avert my face just in time to prevent our lips smashing together, and she sucks my cheek instead. Nice.

  “Darling, it’s been so long.” She pouts and wipes my cheek with her thumb. “We haven’t seen you around for ages.”

  “We were afraid you’d turned into a recluse,” Khloe adds before she gives me exaggerated air kisses.

  “And now you’re off to Spain.” Ariel sighs before brushing her cheek against mine.

  Jesus Christ, did Jax invite them? I’ll fucking kill him.

  You should’ve told him Violet was special. How was he to know meeting up with three of my exes at the same time is the last thing I want? Especially when it’s never bothered me before.

  Why would it? None of the hookups were ever serious, on either side.

  I tug Violet a little closer. It’s never been a problem in the past introducing a current girlfriend to a previous one. Half the time the girls knew each other already, so the situation was never an issue. I wait until they’ve finished hugging Yolanda.

  “Violet.” Fuck, this is harder than I thought. “These are old friends of mine.”

  “Not so much of the old.” Khloe smiles at Violet. “So, who are you?”

  Violet stares at her as though she’s lost her mind. “I’m Violet.”

  “Are you an actress?” Ariel peers at her intently. “I kind of recognize your hair. I love your hair. Is it natural?”

  “I’m at college. And yes, I’m a natural redhead. Although I’ve always wanted to be a blonde.”

  Ariel pats her long blond hair. “Me, too. That’s why I go to the salon every six weeks.”

  I exhale a relieved breath. This isn’t going badly after all.

  “But Spain.” Penelope brushes nonexistent fluff from my shoulder. “I’ll never see you again.”

  “God, Pene.” Khloe rolls her eyes. “It’s not that far. He’ll still have parties.”

  “I hope all your Madrid teammates will be there.” Ariel grins at Violet. “They’re seriously hot.”

  “Sure, everyone’s invited.” Partying isn’t the first thing on my mind for when Violet and I move to Madrid, but it’ll be a great way for her to meet my new teammates. “It’s only a couple of hours on a plane. That’s not a problem for anyone, is it?”

  I shoot Violet a smile, which she doesn’t return. I lean in close. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I don’t think she is, but what’s her problem? Even if she’s guessed I used to date these girls, she also knows I’ve never been serious about anyone but her.

  Have I ever told her that, though? Shit, I haven’t.

  “Not a problem for me,” Pene says, and it takes a second for me to remember what the hell she’s talking about. “I can fly out any weekend if you give me enough notice.”

  “Ooh, there’s Jax.” Ariel waves over my head before grabbing Khloe’s arm. “Come on, girls. Lovely to meet you, Violet.” She swoops in to give Violet a couple of air kisses before disappearing with Khloe.

  Pene squeezes my arm. “Don’t be stranger, you bad boy.” She kisses my cheek and gives Violet a weirdly restrained smile before following the others.

  “You bad, bad boy.” Yolanda snorts with laughter. “What did you do to that poor girl, Lucas?”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Violet surreptitiously check her phone. It’s not the first time she’s done that tonight. Is she expecting a message or just checking the time?

  Either way, it’s almost like she’s wishing she was someplace else.

  “Nothing,” I answer Yolanda, even though her question was rhetorical. Penelope’s always been a bit of a drama queen. There’s something I need to tell Violet, and even though I’d planned on doing it later tonight, I don’t think it can wait. “Here,” I pull an envelope from my pocket and hand it to her.

  She takes it as though it’s a live snake. “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  Violet stares at the airline ticket I printed out as though she’s never seen one before. “What…” she begins, then frowns and peers more closely at it. “What?”

  She doesn’t sound as rapt as I imagined. Yolanda pats my arm before backing away and joining Mac and some others, while I try to figure out why Violet isn’t wrapping her arms around my neck already.

  “It’s a ticket to Madrid.” I feel a right prat telling her the bloody obvious, but this silence is unnerving.

  “For me? For next Tuesday?” She looks up at me, and there’s no excited smile on her face.

  Is it hot in here? I’ve never had a girl react like this when I’ve given her something. “That’s when we’re flying out.”

  “I can’t just fly to Madrid on Tuesday.” She says the day like it’s poison. “I thought you were going at the end of the month. Not next week.”

  I resist the urge to run my finger around the inside of my collar. Thank God no one’s close enough to overhear us. “Coach wants me there for preseason training.”

  “Okay.” She flaps the ticket a couple of times before gripping it so hard it crumples. “I suppose I forgot about that. I’m just…I didn’t know you were getting me a ticket, that’s all.”

  Relief skids through me. Is that the reason she’s acting so strangely? “It’s just a gift, Violet. It’ll be fun going by private jet, just the two of us.”

  “Oh.” There’s a weird note in her voice. “Just the two of us? Won’t the other girls be there as well, then?”

  “What?”

  She shrugs one shoulder and avoids my eyes. “Nothing.”

  “Listen, Violet.” I take her hand, even though she doesn’t seem to be keen. “I admit I’ve had more girlfriends than maybe I should’ve, but that’s in the past. You don’t have any reason to be jealous of any of them, you understand?”

  She snatches her hand back. “I’m not jealous,” she hisses. “I know you’ve been around. That’s got nothing to do with it.”

  I don’t like the way she says I’ve been around, but I can’t dispute her remark, and that doesn’t improve my mood.

  “Why are you so upset, then?”

  She takes a shuddering breath. “I just can’t believe you thought I could leave England next Tuesday. I mean that’s the middle of the week. How long did you think I’d be able to stay?”

  What the fuck is she talking about? “You already said it wasn’t going to be a problem, moving to Madrid with me. What’s changed since a couple of days ago?”

  She looks at me as though I’m insane. I have the surreal feeling I am. “I never said that. Move to Madrid? How can I do that?”

  I jab my finger at the screwed-up ticket. “The answer to that question is in your hand.”

  She ignores my sarcasm. “I thought you wanted a long-distance relationship. You know, where I’d fly over and see you at weekends. Some weekends,” she adds, in case I misunderstand.

  Lightbulbs flash. She’s got the wrong end of the stick, and I take her hand again. “No, babe. We decided to fly to Madrid together.”

  Fuck, it was the first thing I made sure of when I told her about the transfer. And she was fine about it. Okay, she was a bit stunned at first, but only for a few moments.

/>   “No, we didn’t. What about my jobs? I can’t just let people down.”

  “Christ, Violet, you walk your neighbor’s dog, and Sycamore Lodge is only a temp thing. I think you could wrangle it.” If you wanted to. The words hammer through my head, an unwelcome postscript, but I can’t voice them.

  What if she doesn’t want to?

  No way. She has to.

  Because I don’t want to go to Madrid without her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Violet

  Lucas’s careless dismissal of my jobs hurts. I know they’re not on the same level as his, but they’re mine. And I work hard at them. There’s no need for him to belittle them as though they’re worthless.

  Even if he obviously thinks so.

  “You expect me to wrangle it with less than five days’ notice?” And it’s not just the work situation, although that’s bad enough. Mum’s surgery is in five days. Even if I found someone to cover my shifts at Sycamore Lodge and another dog walker for Scout, my neighbor’s Great Dane, there’s no way I could leave next week.

  Why can’t he understand that? He’s talking about moving to another country, not just down the road. Even if Mum weren’t sick, I couldn’t leave my family at such short notice.

  I thought he knew me.

  The conversation with Pene and the others hammers through my brain.

  It’s only a couple of hours on a plane…that’s not a problem for anyone is it…

  Virtually the exact same thing he said to me two nights ago. How many other people—other girls—has he so carelessly invited?

  He only invited them to a bloody party, Violet.

  Pene didn’t sound as though she was only going for a party.

  “Why not?”

  He’s serious. He has absolutely no idea how badly he’s upset me. “For a start, how am I supposed to live out there without any money?”

  It’s not that I’ve ever earned a lot, but I’ve always made enough to get by, and the extra from Sycamore Lodge recently has been really nice. I’ve even been able to start saving. Until Lucas threw my glaring inadequacies in my face, I’d been proud of how far I’d come over the last few weeks.

  “Violet. If there’s one thing you don’t need to worry about, it’s money. You can just focus on completing your degree.”

  Shock claws through me, an icy disbelief that he actually suggested I’d be happy to sponge off him.

  Is that how little he thinks of me?

  My throat aches, and it’s hard to push out the words. “I do worry about money, and there’s no way I’d just live on yours.”

  He stares at me as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “What the hell do you want, then? You told me you wanted to travel. We’ll be able to visit all the places on your bucket list. I don’t see what your problem is.”

  Hot tears burn. Don’t you dare cry. I want to travel with him more than anything. This time yesterday, when I was so sure Lucas and I were exclusive and what we had was so special, I would’ve been stoked, would’ve made plans for the future, for when everything at home had settled down.

  But now I’m not certain of anything. I can’t even think straight. He can’t see what the problem is. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out my deepest fear. “My mum’s not well.”

  She’s so sick, and I’m so terrified…

  He glares me, and I recoil. “If you don’t want to come with me just bloody tell me. Don’t make up some lame excuse.”

  Lame excuse?

  There’s a burning rock lodged in my chest, and I can’t breathe. This isn’t happening. How could he say that? I told him the truth, and he doesn’t believe me.

  All this time I’ve fooled myself into believing I saw beyond the mask he shows the world. That beneath the sexy smile and Mediterranean blue eyes was the guy of my dreams. A wonderful guy, who was so much more than a string of cliched sound bites.

  But I was wrong. Underneath his beautiful face, he’s just as shallow as everyone else on the boat.

  I trusted you. And now I’m paying the price.

  I stare at his throat as I try to slow my racing heart and force the scalding tears back. There’s a scary echo vibrating through my head, and the room spins. All around, the party is in full swing, with the beautiful people in their designer gear and oversized egos. Snatches of conversation float by, distorted, like I’m underwater and drowning. I need to get out before I break down.

  Somehow, I wrap the tattered remnants of my dignity around my heart and straighten my shoulders. I’m not crawling out of here on my knees, no matter how much I want to sink through the floor and hide.

  “I’m going home.” Is that really my voice? I sound so distant, strange…unreal.

  “We’re on a bloody boat.”

  His words thrust me back to the present. Shit. “So I’ll ask the captain to pull over for me.”

  “Pull over—Jesus, Violet. You can’t be serious.”

  Panic thuds as everything closes in on me. Already some people are glancing in our direction and whispering behind their hands. Within minutes, everyone’s going to know that, once again, Violet Henderson has been publicly dumped from a great height by a football player.

  He hasn’t dumped me. Has he? Are we finished? Is this the end?

  The truth whispers in my ear. How can this not be the end?

  “I am serious.” I grip my bag so tightly my fingers ache, and keep my gaze fixed on his throat. I can’t face him. One glance into his blue eyes will crush me. No matter what’s just happened between us, I’m not going to stumble out with my mascara running down my cheeks.

  Lucas swears before he appears to realize I’m not changing my mind. “Fine. I’ll get Chad to pick you up.”

  Hot needles stab through my heart. Was I really stupid enough to hope Lucas would abandon his own party to take me home? It’s not even that I want him to. The reason I’m leaving is because I want to get away from him.

  Stop lying to yourself. I wanted him to care enough to at least offer. But his silence speaks volumes. All Lucas cares about is himself and his career.

  “I don’t need Chad to pick me up.”

  “If you want to bail, Chad’s driving you home.”

  I’m almost speechless, and a scalding betrayal streaks through my chest. Bail? Is that what he thinks I’m doing? Is he totally insensitive? “Don’t be so stupid. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  He doesn’t deign to answer. Instead he marches off, and I have to run to keep up with him. Within moments, he’s speaking to the captain.

  “Violet needs to disembark ASAP. Her mum’s not well.”

  I’m shaking, can’t help it. He doesn’t believe me but has no compunction in using that as an excuse as to why I need to leave.

  So no one thinks his girlfriend is running out on him.

  He doesn’t make any move to return to the party, and we stand there, like a couple of strangers. He doesn’t try to take my hand, or speak to me, and even though I’m mad at him, I desperately want him to look my way.

  I might as well be another decorative anchor hanging on the wall.

  Within half an hour the boat slows down, and Lucas runs a finger over his earring. I’ve only seen him do that a couple of times before, and I hate the wave of guilt that burns through me knowing that, this time, I’m the reason why.

  He accompanies me to the limo which has met up with the boat at Tower Pier. The Tower of London looms across the river, a great shadowy fortress of doom, and the watery entrance of Traitor’s Gate leers at me.

  It all feels very appropriate.

  I sure lost my head over Lucas.

  And it’s a million times worse than what happened with Geoff.

  I could dig my heels in and refuse to use the limo, but that’d only give everyone something else to gossip about, and I’d rather a dignified exit than an ugly spat with Lucas on the pier. It’s just not worth it.

  Plus, I left my overnight bag in the limo.

  He st
ands by the door, his elbow resting on the roof of the car as I climb inside. I should say something cool and witty, so he doesn’t guess how I’m dying inside, but I’m brain dead.

  Please say something…

  He ducks his head, so he can see me, and I try not to let his blue eyes hypnotize my messed-up mind.

  “Call me,” he says before he slams the door.

  Friday morning is damp, chilly, and cloudy, which matches my mood perfectly. As I trudge through the local park with Scout, Lucas’s final words keep spiraling through my mind, an endless, infuriating refrain.

  Call me.

  Arrogant dick. Does he really think I will, after what he said to me?

  Why didn’t he just believe me?

  I hunch my shoulders and grasp my coat together at my neck as the wind picks up. My eyes are gritty from lack of sleep and the annoying tears that wouldn’t stop for half the night. I feel as though I’m coming down with the flu.

  I wrap my arm around Scout’s comfortingly huge neck and give him a hug. I don’t want to imagine what Lucas did after I left the party but can’t stop thinking about it. Did he spend the night with Pene?

  But he asked me to call him.

  No, he didn’t. He told me to call him, as though he was expecting an apology from me.

  After everything he said to me. It’s like I never really knew him at all.

  I don’t have a shift at Sycamore Lodge today, and I could really do with it to take my mind off Lucas. Not that I’m thinking about him.

  Much.

  At least Mum and Dad don’t notice I’m a limp wreck, as they’re focused on the upcoming surgery, and I help out by rescheduling some of her clients for the next two months. Unfortunately, that only takes a couple of hours, and then I’m back to chewing my nails.

  Did Lucas go home last night? I glance at my phone. Maybe there’s some juicy gossip about the party in the gutter press. My stomach pitches, and my nerve fails. It’s not even from worry there’s a humiliating picture of me leaving the boat. It’s the thought of seeing Lucas with a gorgeous girl wrapped around him, giving his famous, sexy smile to the camera, as though it’s the best night of his life.