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Authors: Michelle Betham

Final Score (18 page)

BOOK: Final Score
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‘You still in love with her?’

‘No.’ A lie.

‘Then deal with the fact she’s bringing your child down here, know that she isn’t taking him away from you…’

‘I can’t deal with Jim Allen bringing him up, Max. I can’t deal with that.’

Max sat down on the coffee table opposite Ryan, clasping his hands between his knees. ‘You’re going to have to, kiddo. Whether you like it or not.’

Ryan sat forward, copying Max’s stance. ‘Y’know, you can sit there and lecture me all night about how nothing’s really going to change and how Amber won’t ever let Rico forget I’m his dad and any other crap you want to tell me, but it doesn’t matter. If I stay up north, I lose a certain amount of control, and I’m not willing to do that. So, as my agent, I’m asking you, Max, to put the word out and find out who’s interested in Ryan Fisher. You got that?’

‘You’re playing this all wrong, Ryan.’

‘It’s the only way I know
how
to play it, Max. So just put the word out, okay? Please.’

Max sighed again, getting up and shoving his hands in the pockets of his immaculately cut suit trousers. ‘Get to bed early, alright? If you’re putting yourself in that transfer shop window then you’re gonna need to show everyone out there you’re worth the money they should be paying for you.’

Ryan threw himself back against the couch cushions as he watched Max head out of the bar. Checking the time, he saw it was only eight-thirty, but it wasn’t like he could go anywhere. Jim Allen had them all on hotel lock-down the night before a game, and it wouldn’t be long before he’d have Colin trawling the place to make sure they were all safely ensconced in their rooms, getting their heads down ready for the match tomorrow.

Sighing heavily he pulled himself up off the couch and headed upstairs to his room. What else was there to do? He might as well try and chill out, watch a movie or something. Anything was better than sitting in a bar full of people he didn’t feel much like talking to, staring at alcohol he couldn’t drink.

Once in his room he switched on the TV, kicking off his boots before throwing himself down on the bed, flicking through the channels until he arrived at Cloud Sports. And there she was, sitting on that familiar cobalt-blue couch in the
Scoreline
studio, dressed in a ridiculously sexy, knee-length, figure-hugging yellow dress and black, skyscraper-heeled ankle boots, those crazily long legs of hers crossed as she talked to Dave French, the man who was about to become his new boss once Jim Allen left Newcastle Red Star. He watched as she absentmindedly flicked that dark-red hair of hers back behind her shoulder, smiling at her interviewee, and Ryan felt a stabbing in his heart he was fast getting used to. Once again that urge to lose himself in a haze of alcohol and other substances crept over him, because it would never really go away, but he could control it now. He had to. Sure, he’d had that one night of reliving the bad old days, but even then he’d managed to keep it in check; he hadn’t taken it as far as he could have done, as he would have done in days gone by. But in days gone by he hadn’t had Rico. He hadn’t had a reason to be sober and in control. And now he did. So, although he felt like breaking every pre-match rule Jim Allen imposed, he’d suck it up and stay strong. For his boy. But it was hard, because Rico’s beautiful mum was looking down the camera now, those pale-blue eyes of hers staring into his as she spoke about Newcastle Red Star’s forthcoming televised game, leaning forward slightly over her still-crossed legs, the pen she was holding hanging loosely from her fingers – fingers that had touched him and held his hand and taken away all sorts of pain that he had to deal with alone now.

He closed his eyes and remembered the day Rico had been born. He’d been at the training ground, knowing Amber had been about to go into labour any day and he’d thought he’d been prepared. But getting that call, hearing she was already at the hospital and being told that Rico wasn’t hanging around had made him realise just how unprepared he really had been. He’d driven like a maniac, and it had only been luck that he hadn’t been pulled over. He’d have done anything to make sure he didn’t miss seeing his child come into the world. And he’d only just made it. When he’d got there Amber was already pushing, her face tired but oh so beautiful. At that moment Ryan had never seen her look so beautiful. She’d been sitting up on the bed, wearing a bright-pink t-shirt, and the first thing she’d done when she’d seen him was hold out her hand, her eyes begging him to take it. And he’d held onto it; he’d held onto
her
as she’d pushed their baby boy into the world – the most incredible experience of his life. And he’d only just managed to be there to see it happen.

A sharp rap at the door pulled him back from his thoughts, and he sighed, keeping his eyes closed. ‘I’m not in the mood for company, Gary.’

‘Then it’s just as well I’m not Gary, isn’t it?’

His eyes shot open and he sat upright, pushing both hands through his hair as he got up off the bed. He walked over to the door and opened it slightly. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game, aren’t you? Hanging around here when you’re – allegedly – living with the boss’ son.’

Ellen pushed past him into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. ‘As far as I’m aware, Jim Allen isn’t even here. He’s at home, with his fiancée.’ She turned to look at Ryan, flinging her jacket over the back of the chair next to the bed. ‘Isn’t he?’

Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I really can’t be bothered to play hard to get, Ryan. I want you, you’re a free man now, so I might as well lay all my cards on the table and see where they fall.’

Ryan frowned. ‘And what does
that
mean, exactly?’

She walked over to him, playing with the collar of his shirt. ‘It means, if you want me, Ryan, I’m here. I’m all yours. Do what you want with me because…’ She moved her mouth closer to his, ‘I’m willing to try anything.’

He pushed her away, but only with a touch. ‘You’re with somebody, Ellen.’

She couldn’t help laughing. ‘And when has
that
bothered you?’

‘I’m a different man now, sweetheart.’

‘Oh, really?’ She folded her arms as she noticed his gaze wander back to the TV. On-screen, Amber was busily wrapping up that evening’s edition of
Scoreline
, smiling down the camera as she said
goodbye.
That had been the hardest word Ryan had ever had to hear from her, and he felt his stomach dip as he knew she’d be leaving that studio and going back home to Jim. She’d be sleeping in his arms; he’d make love to her and hold her, and tell her everything Ryan still wished he could tell her but he swallowed it back, and turned to face Ellen again.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he said, his eyes focusing on anything but her.

‘The boss isn’t around, Ryan, in case you hadn’t realised.’

‘Colin’s twice as bad for making sure we stick to the rules.’

‘You’re just throwing excuses around now.’

Maybe she was right. She was there. Right there in front of him, offering him a chance to forget, to lose himself in something that would, for a short time anyway, numb the pain and stop him from thinking about things that were only confusing him. She could be the brief escape he needed right now.

She moved closer again, gently stroking his face with her fingertips. ‘Look, I won’t tell if you won’t, okay? It can be our little secret.’

He was ceasing to care now. This might be wrong, and the guilt would probably hit him head-on in the morning, but he needed the distraction.

‘I never have agreed with this no-sex-before-a-match rubbish anyway,’ she whispered, slowly sliding the belt out of his jeans. ‘I mean, does it really matter?’

He couldn’t help smiling as he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. ‘No. It really doesn’t matter.’

She returned his smile, sliding her hands inside his shirt. ‘Well, let’s start breaking some rules, then, shall we?’

And he wasn’t really in the mood for arguing.

*

Amber threw her bag down onto the table in the small and cosy hallway of the semi-detached house she and Jim had bought in north London just after she’d landed the job at Cloud Sports. The house they were now selling, because they had a new London home, thanks to Endleigh United’s generosity. A new home they’d be moving into very soon. But she liked this one. She liked the fact it was small and compact and felt cosy and comfortable. This house felt like a home. She wasn’t altogether sure that new one could ever feel that way.

Giving out a small sigh, she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror over the hall table. She looked tired, but it had been a long day and tomorrow wasn’t looking as though it was going to be any shorter. She was in the Cloud Sports studios all day again, covering two out of the three live matches the network was featuring, and even though it was what she loved doing, her mind was on so many other things that she was finding it exhausting trying to concentrate at the minute. Christmas was just around the corner, Jim’s last match with Newcastle Red Star was less than a fortnight away, and then there was Vegas. She looked in the mirror again and smiled at that last thought. Las Vegas. She’d had no idea where that had come from, or why she’d suddenly decided that a Vegas wedding was what she wanted; she’d just known that she didn’t want a big, extravagant event where all eyes were on them. She really didn’t want that.

She could hear the shower upstairs and she smiled again, running her fingers through her long, loose curls before making her way up to the bedroom.

Jim was out of the shower when she got there, with just a towel wrapped low around his strong, toned hips. ‘Hey.’ He smiled at her, and she felt her stomach contract in that wonderful, warm and fuzzy way it always did when he smiled that way. Especially when he was dressed in next to nothing.

‘Hey yourself.’ She slowly slipped her dress down over her shoulders, wiggling her hips until it fell to the floor, kicking it away with the heel of her ankle boot, leaving her in nothing but fuchsia-pink underwear.

Jim whistled as he looked her up and down, watching as she unhooked her bra, tossing it aside.

‘I need sex like you wouldn’t believe,’ she sighed, backing up against the wall, running her hands slowly over her breasts.

‘Tough day?’ He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she stroked those perfect breasts, his body responding in the only way it could.

‘You could say that,’ she breathed, her fingers buried in her hair now, her arms raised above her head.

He moved closer, reaching out to touch her waist, moving his hand down to her hip, sliding his fingers into the side of her knickers. Her breathing was heavier now, and he watched as her breasts rose and fell quicker, his body aching to be inside her. It had been aching to be there all day, ever since he’d seen her earlier at the Cloud Sports complex. It was an ache that never left him. A constant ache that needed to be eased.

She closed her eyes as he slowly slid her knickers down and she stepped out of them, opening her legs slightly to give him permission to do whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter what, she’d take anything. She just needed to be satisfied, and however that satisfaction came, she didn’t care. She just needed that fix, the shot that calmed her down and made everything feel better.

Reaching out to pull the towel from around his waist she gasped as he slipped a hand between her legs, touching her briefly, but long enough to see how ready she was for him. And when his mouth finally met hers, she let herself fall, let herself tumble deeper and faster into his world, because that’s where she wanted to be. Where she
needed
to be.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around those strong hips of his, clinging onto him as he took her slowly, sinking into her so gently it was the most perfect feeling. She could feel her entire body relaxing as he pushed deeper, filling her with that wonderful calm only he could give her, that feeling of peace, that dose of something beautiful that only came from him.

He truly was her world, and she should have realised that sooner, not allowed him to waste so much time. But she had him now. He was hers, she was his, and nothing would ever come between them again. She was going to begin the new year married to this man, and this time she was going to make sure it stayed that way.

Chapter Twelve

‘Do you think he enjoyed his first Christmas?’ Amber smiled at her dad as he took Rico from her, laying him gently over his shoulder.

‘I think he had the best first Christmas any baby could have wished for,’ Freddie said, rubbing his grandson’s back in slow, circular movements. ‘What about you?’

Amber sat down on the arm of one of the bright-red couches in the Players’ Lounge at Tynebridge. ‘It was good. We got through it.’

Freddie looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

Amber returned the look. ‘At least there was no niggling, no getting at each other. And I couldn’t deny Ryan the right to be with his son on Christmas Day, could I?’

‘No, sweetheart. You couldn’t.’

It hadn’t been the easiest of Christmas Days, but with Newcastle Red Star’s Boxing Day match being a home game at least it meant they could all spend it in the north-east, and Amber had been truly grateful for that. Having both Ryan and Jim together in the same house for all those hours hadn’t been something she’d looked forward to, but having her dad and her family around her took a lot of the pressure off. By and large Jim and Ryan had stayed away from each other, and the day had passed without any kind of unease or tension, although she’d breathed the biggest sigh of relief when they’d both headed off for the team’s afternoon training session. For once she’d been glad to have the better part of her Christmas Day given over to Boxing Day match preparations.

‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’ Freddie asked, his voice pulling Amber back to reality.

‘Hmm? Sorry, Dad, I was just thinking… Am I sure about what?’

Freddie Sullivan raised that questioning eyebrow again, and Amber briefly looked down at her clasped hands.

BOOK: Final Score
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