Saving the Game Page 4

  “Lee, honey. Are you okay?”

  Am I? I don’t know. The only thing I know is I need to leave.

  “Yes, I will be. Look, I’m going to go.”

  “I can arrange for someone to take you home.”

  “No, I’ll get a taxi. No one needs to know I’m away.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  I kiss her on the cheek. “Honestly, I’ll be fine.”

  I will be when I get out of here and don’t have to watch Logan and that fucking cheap whore together.

  “I’m still going to call you in the morning.”

  “Thank you. Speak to you then.” I grab my bag and leave the table as quickly as I can.

  Logan

  WHAT THE FUCK am I doing?

  I shouldn’t be giving her the time of day. As my eyes roam her body, I don’t see anything I like or want. She does absolutely nothing for me. Maybe a few months ago I would have been aching all over to have her underneath me, but not now I’ve had Lee.

  This blonde is nothing special. She’s a fucking parasite. I look like a saint compared to her. I should just walk away. It’s not as though she means anything to me. That shit with Fletch was fucking bad. She could’ve fucked things up big time for him and Jess.

  I glance back across the room to our table. It’s only Fran and Peter sitting there. I swear Lee was there a minute ago; she must be in the ladies’. Fran is talking to Peter, and from the look of it, she’s concerned about something. Her eyes glance in my direction and then back to Peter. He reaches his hand out and rubs her face.

  “Come on, Logan. Why don’t we just slip away now? No one will miss us,” Chantelle purrs in my ear, stroking my face with those long fingers. The intimacy of this single action has my stomach wrenching. God, she really makes my skin crawl. What the fuck was Fletch thinking of when he spent the night with her? “Please. I know you would enjoy it.”

  “Look, can’t you get the message? I’m not interested in you.” Everything about her annoys the living hell out of me. Her whiny voice, her touch . . . even her clothes. Jackson looks in my direction, shaking his head before turning his attention back to his date. And she’s no angel either. I should know.

  Chantelle finally removes her hands from me and takes a step back. Thank fuck. She stands there wide-eyed, pouting. I massage my temples; she’s giving me a goddamn migraine and I’ve not had one of those in years.

  “Well, it looks like your little friend got bored waiting for you. I might be your only option for some fun tonight.” What the fuck does she mean? “Your date. She left.”

  I turn my back to her and Lee still isn’t at the table. “Look, if you were the only woman left on the planet, I still wouldn’t want to have some fun with you. I’d much rather have a wank in peace.”

  She looks hurt by my admission, but it’s the truth, and I’m way past the stage of caring how she feels. I walk away from her and I’m sure she says something as I do, but I’ve switched off from that bloody awful voice.

  Why the hell did I entertain her for so long? I’m a fool.

  “Where is she?” I demand as I reach our table.

  “Go away, Logan,” Fran tells me.

  “No. Where is she?” I ask, my voice raised.

  Peter stands and steps in front of his wife. “Logan, I’ll tell you once and only once; no one raises their voice to Fran.”

  “Sorry.” My eyes fall to the floor. “But I need to know where Lee is. Please . . .”

  “She’s gone home. She’s not feeling well and you and your friend didn’t make it any better,” Fran snaps. “Logan, do yourself a favour and think long and hard about what you want. Because Lee isn’t the type who will put up with your crap.”

  “I’m going to see her.”

  Peter reaches out, taking hold of me. “Think before you go charging in. Don’t do or say anything stupid.” I nod before he releases me and I take off.

  I race out of the room without talking to anyone, including Jackson, who looks puzzled as I almost fly past him. Outside, I flag down a taxi.

  Ten minutes until I reach Lee’s. Ten long minutes to stew. To think about how me and that blonde bimbo must’ve looked to her.

  She might refuse to see me. That’s not even worth thinking about. She will see me. She has to give me the chance to explain. To explain that what she thought she saw was nothing. Well, it was nothing.

  The taxi stops, I pay the driver, and then rush into her building and run up the stairs.

  Images of the beautiful Lee in that amazing white dress fill my mind. She did look incredible tonight.

  Knocking loudly on her door, I try to wait patiently for her to answer. I’m not kidding anyone, least of all myself. I’m not a patient man at all.

  “Lee, open up.” Pacing from one foot to the other, I check my watch. What the hell is taking her so long to answer?

  Finally, the door creaks open, and there stands Lee in PJs, looking awful. She’s as white as the dress she had on earlier. “Fucking hell, what’s wrong?” I ask, stepping inside, not waiting on an invitation.

  “Come in. Why not?” she mumbles behind me, closing the door. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I was worried when you ran off. We went together and I wanted to be the one to bring you home.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fucking fine.” I reach out and touch her head. She doesn’t have a temperature. “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks!” She crosses her arms, her face reddens, and she lets out a long breath before brushing past me. She stomps through the apartment and I follow behind her as she walks into the kitchen where she pours a glass of water. “Logan, I don’t have the energy for an argument with you. I didn’t think you would notice me leaving. You were too preoccupied with that bitch.”

  And there it is; her reason for leaving. Although, deep down, I already knew that.

  “Lee, I’m sorry.” Fuck. I’m not in the habit of apologising to anyone, and so far tonight, that’s all I’ve done.

  “Yeah, you said that earlier too. Now, was there anything else? Because I really just want some peace and quiet.”

  There was more I wanted, of course, but now I’ve seen how bad she looks, thoughts of me being inside her are long gone. I want to stay and ensure she’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll let me.

  “I wanted to see how you are and, now that I’ve seen you, I don’t think you should be on your own.”

  Slowly, she puts the glass down before looking me square in the eyes. There’s no desire or lust, only sadness and maybe slight fear. The colour has completely drained from her face. Her shoulders look tight. I could help her relax, I’m sure I could.

  “Logan, I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”

  Yes, she is, but sometimes we all need a little help. If Jess were here, I would leave it to her, but she’s not, so Lee will have to make do with me. Although, me looking after her is laughable. I can hardly look after myself.

  “Humour me.”

  “Why would you want to stay here when I’m sure you could be having fun elsewhere with . . .”

  I don’t let her finish. I take hold of her shoulders. “There was and still is only one person I wanted to spend time with tonight. Now, you will let me look after you. So, will it be in the living room or the bedroom?” My voice is steady as I ask the question, but I can’t help myself. I know I smirk.

  Yes, I’m most likely crossing some invisible line into her personal space. She stands before me, pressing her lips together, and I know she’s desperate to say something.

  “I’m going to bed,” she finally says. Her body sags and she reluctantly nods when I hold my ground and don’t give in. “No funny business from you.”

  “Cross my heart. Let’s get you tucked up and then I’ll make you a hot drink.” She smiles and so do I, because, now that I think of it, this will be a first for me, spending the night with someone and not having sex.

  I follo
w her through the apartment into her bedroom. It’s brightly lit and not how I remembered it at all. The colours are neutral. I expected something brighter, a bit wilder. After all, I know how adventurous Lee can be, especially in the bedroom.

  She climbs slowly into bed, clutching her stomach.

  “Lee . . .”

  “I’m fine, although whatever bug I have, you’re bound to end up with it.”

  “I’ll worry about that. Now, do you want a cup of tea or some hot chocolate?”

  “Hot chocolate would be nice.”

  I leave her alone and wander back to the kitchen. I open door after door, looking through the cupboards until I find what I’m looking for.

  As I wait for the milk to boil, I find myself thinking about why I’m here. Is this how Fletch felt in the beginning about Jess? The attraction I’ve been trying to fight against. The feelings I have of wanting to be close to Lee but struggle to get my head around because this is me, and I don’t usually care about women.

  There’s a very good reason I’m a player on and off the field.

  Why Lee? What is it about her that has crawled under my skin? Why now?

  I don’t have any answers.

  With two mugs of hot chocolate in my hands, I return to Lee’s bedroom. She’s lying on her side, facing me, hair splayed across the pillow, eyes closed. I put the mugs down and she doesn’t move. Her breathing is light and even. I look around the room and then glance down at myself. I really need to take off this kilt and everything that goes with it. I spot a cover on the chair in the corner of the room. The chair doesn’t look very comfortable. Well, not for sleeping on. I strip down to my boxers, grab the cover, and lie on top of the bed beside Lee. So much for her wanting some hot chocolate. She must be exhausted.

  With a kiss to her cheek, I say goodnight and wrap my arm around her.

  Lee

  TRYING TO TURN in my bed is no easy task. The covers are held firmly in place by Logan’s body as he’s lying on top of them. There’s something reassuring and sweet in the fact that he wanted to stay with me last night, but I also know he’ll be leaving me today. And when he does, I should stick to my guns and keep some distance between us. Having him around is torturous.

  Logan Walker is not good for my health. He makes me have crazy, irrational thoughts. All about him. I woke during the night and found myself smiling as his hands were exactly where they are now, wrapped around my waist, holding me tight.

  I finally stretch out, moving his hand, and open my eyes. The room is bright. It must be late morning.

  “How are you feeling?”

  His voice startles me; I thought he was still asleep.

  I think for a minute. “Truthfully, I still feel crap.” I turn to face him. The sick feeling I had all day yesterday is still there, not as bad as it was, but still there nonetheless.

  Our eyes meet and I gasp when I’m reminded of how hot he looks. I have to stop myself adding, ‘I feel so much better for seeing you.’

  See, this is why I need to put some distance between us.

  “Not good. So, do you feel up to eating?”

  “God, no. I can’t face food now. I’ll see how I feel later.” At this moment, the thought of food has me feeling queasy, but that might be what’s wrong with me. I didn’t have much to eat yesterday at all. What with watching the game and then the riot that took place on the pitch, I was a bag of nerves. It’s no wonder I didn’t eat.

  He runs his fingers through my hair, tucking a few loose strands behind my ear. Why did he do that? Now there’s a flutter in my stomach that doesn’t belong there. His eyes linger on me with a mixture of concern and something else that I can’t place.

  I close my eyes briefly when his fingers trace softly down my cheek and stop at my mouth. Goosebumps spread across my skin. His eyes linger on my lips. He’s going to know my thoughts. As if he doesn’t know most of them already.

  “I should get up and get out of your hair.” He climbs out of bed and walks around it, coming into full view. He’s standing before me in nothing but his boxers. Oh. My. God. Everything about him knocks me for six. The bare, well-toned chest that my eyes follow downward until I reach that perfect V. I can’t help it, my eyes dip a little lower for a split second, but long enough to see the erection bulging in his boxer shorts.

  Bloody hell.

  Lifting my eyes back up, I’m greeted with that damn smirk I know so well. The one that taunts me, even in my dreams.

  “You don’t have to.” I cringe at the words that leave my mouth. It would seem I have no filter when it comes to Logan.

  He leans down. His mouth is so close; I can feel his breath against my lips. No, we can’t kiss, not now. I need to go and at least freshen up, but if I do, the moment might be gone.

  “So, you want me to stay?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  “Can I tell you something? I don’t want to go. Not yet.” Dare I ask what he wants to do? No, I shouldn’t. “Give me five.” He turns and walks away into my bathroom. That’s where I need to go. Pee, wash, and brush my teeth, all in that order.

  This isn’t one of my better ideas, having him stay longer. I should tell him to leave. Tell him I’m tired and need to sleep. That’s what my mind says, but my body wants something completely different, as it always does when I’m around him.

  If he was a normal guy, I would be questioning our relationship. Looking to take steps forward. Dating; that would be a natural progression. But this is Logan and he does sex, nothing more, and my body craves that but my heart longs for more.

  If only life was simple. Like movies and books. Two people meet, fall in love then live happily ever after. Look at Jess. After all she’s been through this year, she’s happy and in love, and I know she’ll get her happily ever after with Fletcher.

  They say a leopard can’t change its spots, but Fletcher has. His life has done a complete one-eighty and he’s a better man for it. Maybe Logan will change. I’m kidding myself if I think that. From what I’ve seen, he doesn’t want to change.

  I’m startled when I look up to see him standing before me yet again. Completely preoccupied with my thoughts, I didn’t hear him leave the bathroom. I swear my jaw drops. How can one man look so fucking amazing in the morning?

  There’s a cocky smirk on his face as he watches me getting all hot and bothered just by looking at him. He chuckles as I dart from the bed and enter my bathroom. Closing the door, I sag against it. My body slides down until I’m almost sitting on the floor. He has such an effect on me. My head is spinning in too many directions.

  Damn you, Logan Walker. I never asked for you in my life. Why couldn’t I have said no that first night? My life would be uncomplicated if I had said one word, two little letters.

  Get a grip, girl. I stand and slowly go about my business.

  Pausing, I take a long hard look in the mirror, and I look like shit. I need a holiday in the sun. Some time to relax and unwind. I pull my brush through my hair and leave the bathroom.

  Cheeky sod.

  He’s climbed into bed, and not just under the cover he’d slept under. He’s under the duvet. “Make yourself at home.”

  “Let’s not pretend. We both want the same thing.”

  If I had any sense left in me I would get angry, but being angry with him for something we both want is laughable. What’s funnier is that I still want him, even though I feel so bad.

  “We might,” I say, toying with him and walking closer to the bed. He doesn’t speak, just watches me intently. I’m a step away from the bed when he sits up, reaches out, grabs me, and pulls me into his arms. I laugh as I find myself on top of him. All I see is his cocky smile and wide eyes.

  “You look so damn sexy when you pout.”

  “When did I pout?”

  “When you were watching me, trying to think of what to say to me in your bed. Don’t pretend. You and I both know that’s what you were thinking.”

  I have no words. We’re nose-to-nos
e, and all I want to do is put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him hard. Take his breath away. Share a connection. Share another moment in time that I’ll remember long after he’s forgotten about me.

  I sigh heavily and I’m sure he’s about to ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes my cheeks in his hands and does exactly what I wanted to do to him. He takes the lead, takes control as he always does in moments like this when I’m debating with myself if this is the right thing to do.

  This time, I allow myself to express my feelings in the depth of the kiss. This time, I pour my heart into it, even though I’m sure he’s completely unaware.

  We shift and the pace quickens with his demanding lips. I can taste the urgency. This kiss is intoxicating and he’s taking me on a whole new journey of discovery. This kiss is unexpected, yet I welcome it and the warmth that is spreading through my body.

  We both pull away at the same time. I rest my forehead against his, our breaths heavy and still on the other’s lips. Emotions are getting the better of me and tears fill my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me?

  As if sensing something, he changes position and I find myself shrieking as he flips me onto my back and hovers above me, staring, trying to process if I’m okay.

  “Lee . . .”

  “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t, just kiss me again and make me feel.” I wrap my arms around him. He doesn’t waste a second before his lips descend on mine. For now, this is what I need. I’ll deal with the aftermath when he leaves.

  “We both know I’ll make you feel amazing,” he says, sounding almost as breathless as I feel. I’m counting on that. He sits back on his heels and stares at me with a deep intensity that has me trying to second guess his thoughts. Logan Walker isn’t a man I can read, and I think that’s part of the growing attraction. There’s nothing predictable about him. Every time I’m with him, he takes my body on a journey I don’t want to end.

  He pulls off my top and his eyes widen as he runs them over my half naked body. His jaw clenches, and the muscle at the corner of his mouth twitches as though he’s fighting the cocky smile I’m sure I’ll see any moment now.