Striker

‘Nah, I’m alright for the minute,’ Ryan smiled.

‘Fancy a game of pool?’ Gary asked, sliding off the stool and grabbing his pint.

‘I’ll be over in a bit. Just got to nip to the loo.’

‘Okay. Well, we’re just over there. See you later.’

Ryan watched Gary walk over to the rest of the lads before turning round on his stool and taking a look around the crowded bar. Sometimes, being a professional footballer at the highest level was akin to being like the proverbial kid in a candy shop. All around him was temptation, and all he had to do was give the nod and whatever he wanted would just appear. Would he ever get bored of that feeling? Would the day ever come when he just didn’t want to do this anymore? When all he wanted to do was settle down and get on with his life? Maybe. But it wasn’t happening any time soon, that was for sure.

Turning back to face the bar, he held up his empty glass and indicated to the barman that he was ready for another. One more then he’d join the rest of the lads. This night was only just beginning, and he had a gut feeling it was going to be a good one.

‘You do know that practically every male head in this bar has turned to look in your direction at least once, don’t you?’ Ronnie smiled, returning to the table with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. ‘Because you have scrubbed up pretty nicely, Ms. Sullivan.’

‘Champagne?’ Amber asked, ignoring Ronnie’s comment. ‘Are we celebrating something?’

‘Yeah. You finally leaving the house for a few hours and actually enjoying yourself.’

‘Cheeky bastard.’ But she couldn’t help smiling. ‘And you don’t scrub up too badly yourself, Mr. White.’

Ronnie White may not have been as obviously handsome as the Ryan Fishers of this world, but he had a quirky quality about him that made him just as attractive, in a different kind of way. Probably more so, because Ronnie wasn’t just some pretty shell that drew women’s attention towards him purely because of his looks. He was also one of football’s nice guys. He always had been; that was just the kind of person he was, and it still seemed unbelievable to Amber that Karen hadn’t been able to see what a gem of a man she’d had in him. As far as she’d been concerned, the grass was greener elsewhere, but in Amber’s eyes she thought Karen had made a huge mistake. Ronnie was a wonderful man, but if Karen hadn’t been able to see that then she really didn’t deserve him. Amber just hoped that, next time, he’d find someone who really loved him and appreciated him. Because he deserved that.

‘You alright?’ Ronnie asked, breaking into Amber’s thoughts.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking, that’s all.’

‘Well, quit thinking and start enjoying yourself. Here. Get this down your neck.’ He leaned forward, handing her a glass of champagne.

‘You’re such a charmer, Ronnie,’ Amber smiled, taking a sip of the cold, bubbly liquid. ‘And isn’t this a bit excessive? Champagne, on a Wednesday night?’

‘I’m an ex-professional footballer, Amber. There’s no such thing as excessive.’

Amber smiled again, because he’d said that with his tongue very firmly in his cheek. Ronnie had never really lived the extravagant footballer’s lifestyle, which was partly the reason why she liked him so much. But was that also partly the reason why Karen had left him? Had she wanted that lifestyle more than she’d wanted Ronnie? It was something that had crossed Amber’s mind on more than one occasion since Ronnie’s marriage break-up. But it was something she still couldn’t get her head around. Ronnie was genuine. He never did things because he felt he had to, or because he just could. Karen really had no idea what she’d thrown away.

‘Do you fancy going clubbing?’ Ronnie asked, taking a sip of his own champagne, his eyes fixed on Amber as she shuffled about in her seat, the short black dress she was wearing riding up her legs slightly to reveal probably a little more tanned thigh than she’d intended.

‘Clubbing? Are you joking? The last time I went clubbing flares were still in fashion. And you’re hardly John Travolta yourself.’

‘You’re supposed to be having fun.’

‘I am having fun, thank you. This is me, having fun.’

Ronnie leaned forward again, clasping his hands together between his open knees, fixing Amber with a look that defied her to turn away. ‘Do you ever relax? I mean, I’ve known you for almost ten years now and in all that time I’ve only seen you really let yourself go once, maybe twice – my wedding, and that Christmas party we went to when we were a couple, when I was playing for United. The club Christmas party, remember?’

‘How could I forget? You should never have let me have that Long Island Iced Tea. It was lethal.’

Ronnie smiled, and Amber loved the way his eyes crinkled up at the edges. ‘You had such a good night, Amber. You were the life and soul of that party, so I know you can let your hair down, when you want to.’

‘When I’m drunk, you mean,’ Amber half-smiled as she took another small sip of champagne.

‘Well, maybe you should get drunk more often,’ Ronnie sighed, sitting back in his seat. ‘Everything doesn’t have to be so serious all the time, y’know.’

Amber put her glass down and crossed her legs, quickly pulling the hem of her dress down over her thigh. ‘I just want to be taken seriously, Ronnie. I want to be a success, I want to be good at what I do…’

‘You are good at what you do. But sometimes you need to shake off this cold exterior you give off.’

Amber looked at him. ‘Is it really that bad? Do I really come across as cold?’

‘Not all the time, no. But you always come across as incredibly professional.’

‘And what’s wrong with that?’

Ronnie leaned forward again, smiling as he looked at her. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I know you, Amber. And I know you’re anything but cold. I just think you put up too many barriers. It’s almost like you’re afraid to let anyone in.’

Amber said nothing, just took another sip of champagne.

‘Don’t you get lonely?’ Ronnie asked. She was such a beautiful woman, he found it difficult to understand how she was still alone after all this time. Since their brief relationship all those years ago he didn’t think she’d been seriously involved with anyone. She’d certainly never spoken to him about any relationships she’d been in or any men she’d met. Yet, she spent her life around men. So surely she couldn’t have been alone for all that time?

‘I haven’t got time to be lonely, Ronnie. I’m a busy girl.’

He sat back again, pushing both hands through his hair, his brown eyes still looking straight at her. ‘Hmm… well, you know what they say – all work and no play makes Amber one very boring young lady.’

She stuck her tongue out at him before taking another sip of champagne. She could get a taste for this, she thought, as the cool bubbles slid effortlessly down her throat. She could feel it going to her head already, but it was a nice feeling. Maybe Ronnie was right. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy herself for once.

‘Refill?’ Ronnie asked, knowing for sure he’d hit a nerve now. She listened to him, so he hoped that she’d taken what he’d said the right way. He didn’t want to criticise her, he just wanted her to know that he cared about her, and all he wanted was for her to be happy. To make the most of her life. To have some fun.

‘Yeah. Why not?’ Amber smiled, holding out her empty glass for him to fill up. ‘I might as well start the night as I mean to go on.’

‘Is that a promise?’ Ronnie grinned, filling up his own empty glass.

‘Yeah. It’s a promise,’ she laughed. She just hoped it wouldn’t be one she’d end up regretting in the morning.

Ryan pushed his way through the crowd, for once glad that it was so busy hardly anyone recognised him. If he saw someone he wanted to get to know better he’d make himself known. Why attract all and sundry when he didn’t really have the energy to fight off the ones he couldn’t be bothered with? Ryan Fisher was picky when it came to women, despite what the papers might say to the contrary.

‘Shit! Jesus, will you look where you’re going?’

Ryan stopped and turned around, coming face-to-face with the last person he’d expected to see in a busy Newcastle bar on a Wednesday night. He just hadn’t had her down as the type of person to have fun on a weeknight. He didn’t have her down as the type of person to have fun, full stop. He suspected she’d been one of those kids who’d always handed their homework in on time, too.

‘Well, hello there, Ms. Sullivan. We meet again.’ He flashed her the famous Ryan Fisher smile, to no effect. Christ, she was a hard one to crack. But he was almost turned on at the prospect of the challenge.

‘Sorry would have been nice,’ Amber muttered, rubbing her shoulder. ‘You nearly took my arm off there.’

‘Okay… Sorry.’ He was still smiling, and Amber didn’t know whether that was making her angrier, or whether it was actually diffusing a situation that didn’t really need to become heated. At least four other people had bumped into her harder than he had just then, yet she hadn’t called any of those out for doing so.

‘Apology accepted,’ she said, repositioning the strap of her dress back on her shoulder. Very nice shoulders, too, Ryan thought.

‘You here on your own?’ Ryan asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.

Amber narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. Was there no end to this man’s rudeness? Although, he did have really beautiful eyes. A deep blue colour that Amber had never seen before. Jesus, that champagne really must have gone to her head.

Ryan reached out to quickly grab her arm as she briefly lost her balance. ‘Whoa there, gorgeous. You been knocking them back like there’s no tomorrow, then?’

Amber ignored him, trying desperately to sober up, pulling her arm free from his grip. ‘If you’ll excuse me…’

‘Are you here with Ronnie White?’ Ryan asked, not caring that he was getting personal again and that it was something she quite obviously didn’t like. Tough. He wanted to know what was going on there. Gary had said there was nothing between the ex-footballer and this incredibly pretty sports reporter, but what did he know? He’d rather hear it from her. Although the chance that she was going to impart any information to him on that score was probably less than zero.

Amber looked at him, right into those deep-blue eyes, and she had to steady herself again by grabbing onto the table behind her as her heart gave another surprise somersault. She really had to start eating more before she drank alcohol. She just wasn’t used to these kinds of nights out anymore.

‘What’s it got to do…?’

‘With me? Nothing. It’s got nothing to do with me. Not really. But, hey, I just want to know. And you get nowt if you don’t ask, do you?’

Amber couldn’t help smiling. His cocky attitude was something she truly hadn’t come across in such close proximity before, despite all her time around footballers just as famous as he was. But his Geordie accent was just a little bit sexy. She couldn’t deny that. She’d always loved the Geordie accent. And all that time away from the North East certainly hadn’t softened his.

‘You’re smiling,’ Ryan pointed out. Was he making progress here? Was he actually beginning to melt the ice-queen’s frosty exterior?

‘Am I?’ Amber asked, knowing that she was, and not really caring. She was having a great time tonight, even if she had somehow found herself in the middle of some sort of conversation with Ryan Fisher, arrogant bastard and self-styled northern playboy. And now she couldn’t even remember the question he’d asked her not two minutes ago. ‘Sorry, did you just ask me something?’

‘Are you here with Ronnie White? I mean, I know you said you’re just friends, but, someone told me you two used to go out, once-upon-a-time.’

‘Did they now,’ Amber said. It wasn’t a question.

‘You never told me that.’

‘Because it’s got nothing to do with you.’

‘So, did you? Go out with Ronnie White, I mean. Only, I hear you’ve got a bit of a strict “no footballers” rule going on.’

‘You’ve been hearing a lot tonight, haven’t you?’

‘Makes a change to hear stuff about other people, rather than me.’

‘Must be such a pain in the arse, not being the centre of attention.’

Ryan shrugged. ‘It’s good to get a night off.’

She couldn’t help smiling again, despite herself.

‘Anyway, you haven’t answered my question. You and Ronnie White…’

Amber looked over towards the corner table where Ronnie was talking into his mobile phone, laughing at whatever was being said down the line. ‘This really has got absolutely nothing to do with you, and I don’t even know why I’m telling you, but yes, we used to go out. For all of five minutes, really.’

‘Nothing mind-blowingly serious, then?’

She looked at him. ‘No. Nothing serious.’

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, and then Ryan took his chance, gently grabbing her arm and steering her out into the quieter corridor that housed the toilets and an entrance that led to the bar’s outdoor terrace area.

‘What are you doing?’ Amber asked, taking a few seconds to register just what it was that was happening. That’d teach her to down champagne too quickly. She’d only had two glasses, but it was enough to make her reflexes slower and her judgement that little bit clouded.

‘Look, when I first met you yesterday I really didn’t like you. I mean, you’re this great-looking woman, but your attitude was crap…’

‘Excuse me? My attitude was crap? And which charm school did you graduate from? I’ve got to get back to Ronnie…’

‘No, hang on, Amber…’ He reached out to grab her arm again, swinging her back round to face him.

‘What? What do you want from me?’

He looked at her, not exactly sure how to answer that. He wanted to sleep with her, yeah. Of course he did. But, despite the fact he was Ryan Fisher – and if he wanted to sleep with someone then it usually happened – this was a whole different ball game. She wasn’t going to just fall at his feet like the girls he usually went for. He was going to have to work hard to get this one anywhere near his bed, and hard work outside of the football pitch wasn’t something Ryan was keen on. Would she be worth the effort? ‘I just want to get to know you,’ he said, his eyes not leaving hers.

‘Oh. Really.’ Again, it wasn’t a question.

‘Yeah. Really.’

‘You do know I’m a good few years older than you, don’t you?’

Ryan shrugged. ‘So? What’s that got to do with anything?’

Amber narrowed her eyes as she continued to stare at him. ‘So, you’re telling me you’re bored with all the young and pretty football groupies all vying for your attention. You thought you’d try your hand with an older woman instead. Is that it? You’re tired of the wannabe WAGs, huh?’

‘I’m not tired of anything, Amber. I’m not bored of anything and I’m not even thinking too hard about any of this. I just like what I see and I want to find out more. Where’s the harm in that?’

Amber just looked at him for a few more seconds before turning on her red high heels and walking away.

‘Amber! Jesus, come on… Shit!’ Ryan leaned back against the wall and ran a hand through his short, dark hair, closing his eyes for a moment. Under normal circumstances he’d give this up as a bad job and move onto the next one, but two things were different here: one – he’d never had to give anything up as a ‘bad job’ before because nobody had ever walked away from him like she’d just done. And two – he didn’t want to move onto the next one. He wanted Amber Sullivan.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Ronnie asked, looking up as Amber threw herself down on the sofa opposite him.

‘Fending off Ryan Fisher,’ Amber replied, taking her compact out of her make-up bag and checking her face. No, her make-up looked fine – mascara still in the right place, lipstick unsmudged.

‘Huh?’ Ronnie laughed.

Amber snapped her compact shut and looked straight at Ronnie. ‘Do you fancy some really hot sex with no strings attached?’

Ronnie looked around, almost as if he was positive she was talking to someone else and he was trying to see who that person was.

‘Well?’ Amber asked, standing up and sliding her bag up onto her shoulder.

‘Erm, I…’

‘Do you want sex or not, Ronnie? It’s a perfectly simple question. I’m not asking you to marry me or even take me out to dinner, and I know neither of us wants a relationship out of this so, hot sex, no strings. Are you up for it?’

Ronnie stood up, too, holding out his hand. ‘Why the hell not? You only live once.’

Ryan had had enough. He wasn’t really in the mood to hang around any longer, and with training in the morning, and him still with a point to prove at his new club, maybe going back home and getting some rest was the best option. And even though he could easily have gone back out there and picked any woman he wanted to take his mind off Amber Sullivan, he just didn’t feel like it anymore. And that worried him. Was he losing his touch? When had Ryan Fisher not been in the mood for sex? Especially when it was so readily available to him.

Keeping his head down as he pushed his way out of the bar, he took his phone out of his pocket and began texting Gary. He lied, of course. He told him he’d met a girl and was taking her home for fun of the more private kind, when really he was waiting for a taxi to take him back to the huge, empty house the club had stuck him in until he found a place of his own. But Gary and the lads didn’t need to know that. They’d only rib him rotten if they thought he’d joined the ranks of footballers Amber Sullivan had given the brush-off to. He shouldn’t have even bothered trying but all of a sudden Ryan had the ridiculously uncharacteristic urge to take up the challenge Amber had unwittingly offered up.

Never before had Ryan Fisher had to do the chasing, but it looked like, this time, if he wanted something to happen, then he was going to have to start running.

Amber kicked the door shut behind her, hardly having time to take a breath before Ronnie pushed her back against the wall, kissing her hard and deep, his tongue running over the roof of her mouth as their hands pulled at each other’s clothes. Amber had every idea why she suddenly needed to have sex like this – something she hadn’t felt the need to do in a long time – and she also knew that she was using the fact she was having wild and spontaneous sex to forget about that very reason. But who cared? Right now it was time to enjoy what was happening and think about the consequences in the morning. Not that there’d be any consequences. They both knew the score. They were both free agents. They were both in this for a quick release, and nothing else.

Sliding her dress down to the floor, Amber stepped out of it and kicked it away, pulling Ronnie back against her, his mouth covering her neck in soft kisses as his fingers gently ran over her breasts, sending tiny shivers right through her. She’d forgotten how talented this man was at making her feel good. Their brief relationship had been an intense and physical one at the time, in fact, if Amber remembered rightly, they’d spent a hell of a lot of time in bed, which is probably why it had never really gotten off the ground in any other way. That, and the fact that Amber had already made the decision never to get involved with footballers. For a very good reason. What had happened with Ronnie had been a blip, a lapse of concentration on her part, because once that need for almost constant sex had gone, that was when they’d realised they worked better as best friends. Ronnie had gone on to meet and marry Karen, and Amber had thrown herself into her work. In reality, it would have been hard to have had a relationship anyway because, at the time, Ronnie had been playing for a Manchester club and Amber had been based in Newcastle. So best friends it had stayed, and Amber was glad of that because she needed him around as her friend. Which, in a way, made it quite a strange feeling, having him touch her like this after so long, but at the same time, it felt safe and familiar. And that’s what she needed right now. Something safe and familiar.

She gasped out loud as his fingers slid down from her breasts, trailing over her stomach, down to a place he hadn’t been in a long time, but Amber was quite happy to welcome him back, moaning quietly as he touched her gently, his own groans matching hers as the intensity built.

She could feel her heart racing, so fast it was almost making her dizzy. She hadn’t had sex with anyone for so long and it felt good to be able to let go, to have that sweet release, and it felt even better to be sharing it with a man she trusted, rather than some random person she’d picked up just for the hell of it. How Ryan Fisher could possibly get any kind of satisfaction from doing that, she had no idea. Jesus, why was she even thinking about Ryan Fisher? But she knew why. She knew exactly why, and she really didn’t want to think about him, so she pushed him very firmly to the back of her mind, concentrating totally on what was happening here, with Ronnie.

She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed sex until now, and in a way Amber wondered if that had anything to do with the fact she’d been so uptight lately. Right now, though, she felt anything but uptight as Ronnie lifted her up, and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed into her with a force she welcomed, backing her right up against the wall. She wanted it hard and rough, she didn’t want gentle or careful. She wanted to feel every move he made, every push he gave as he thrust deeper into her, and even though it was over far quicker than Amber would have liked, it had given her a taste for something she hadn’t realised she’d missed quite so much.

But it also made her realise something else. Something that didn’t make her feel comfortable or safe, and it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on. But it was real, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t going to go away, no matter how many times she slept with Ronnie or tried to forget it wasn’t happening. It wasn’t going to go away. She’d let Ryan Fisher get to her. And Amber had no idea how she was going to deal with that.

Chapter Four

The sun was shining and the sky was blue, but Ryan wasn’t in the mood to be cheerful. He’d gone to bed alone, even though that hadn’t been his intention when the evening had started. He’d wanted to party with his teammates, see what his hometown had to offer up in the way of women, and then bring one or two back to play with. That’s how last night had started out, and yet here he was, waking up by himself, feeling like crap. And he hadn’t even drank that much.

Walking out into the vast back garden of his temporary home, Ryan knew he had to get out of there. He was stuck in middle-class suburbia, surrounded by doctors and bankers and wealthy accountants with their two cars and their privately-educated children and it felt stifling. This wasn’t where he belonged. Oh, he was grateful to the club for giving him a place to stay, but he needed to move on, needed to find his own place, and fast. He’d give Max a call; get him to line up some riverside apartments for him to look at closer to the city. That was much more his kind of thing. Whereas this wasn’t. This screamed weekend dinner parties and Sunday mornings mowing the lawn or washing the car, and whilst that may be fine for some people, a life like that terrified Ryan.

Sitting down under the shade of a canopy that covered the patio, he threw his head back and closed his eyes, the image of Amber Sullivan in that figure-hugging black dress and those killer red heels filling his brain. It was an image that had been there all night, he couldn’t shake it. He’d gone to sleep thinking about her and woken up with the same thought still running through his head, accompanied by a hard-on he’d had to deal with all on his own. He wanted to know what she felt like. He wanted to know if she felt as uptight and rigid as she seemed to come across. He couldn’t help smiling as he thought how that could actually be a plus point, where sex was concerned. The more uptight the better. Shit! Ryan wasn’t used to having one woman on his mind. On the rare occasions when he’d actually had a girlfriend, none of the relationships had ever lasted all that long because he just couldn’t concentrate on one woman at a time. And why should he? He had this incredible opportunity to play a field bigger than Wembley and he was sure as hell going to make the most of that opportunity. What man in his position would turn it down? Well, quite a few, actually. Ryan knew a lot of players who’d settled down with the ‘right’ woman, got married, had kids, given up the partying to concentrate on a more conventional life. But that just wasn’t for him. Not yet. At least, not just yet. But then, was that only because he hadn’t yet managed to meet his own ‘Miss Right’?