Page 60 of King of Hearts

She was right about that, but the implication that she could be the one I wanted to do so was not even close to accurate. With the amount of alcohol she’d had, based on her glazed eyes and the effort it was taking her to remain upright, I knew she likely wouldn’t recall this interaction in the morning, however, I still didn’t want to be rude.

“Gina, do you mind letting me pass?” I gestured to the end of the bench seat where she had me blocked in as she rubbed her thigh in an inviting manner.

“You want to dance?” She asked, “I love dancing.” She added, smiling as she closed her eyes, taking far too long to open them again considering our dynamic. Where were her friends? She shouldn’t even be alone when she was this trashed.

“Um, sure.” I said, knowing it was going to be the only way to get her to let me out. I was starting to feel claustrophobic at the thought of not being free to leave and how being stuck with her could be perceived. Plus, the club was warm as it was and this wasn’t helping with my need to get some fresh air and space.

She smiled and stood, holding onto the table as she swayed unsteadily on her feet and I followed quickly before she could change her mind.

“Gina, it was nice meeting you.” I stepped away just as she lost her fight to remain upright and fell into me. Instinctively my hands shot out and I caught her by the upper arms as she glanced up at me and giggled. I directed her onto the seat we both just exited and while I wanted to hightail it out of there, I wasn’t a total dick.

“I’m going to have security call you a cab, Gina.” I said loudly over the music.

She reached her hand up and grabbed onto my shirt pulling me towards her. My hands again reached out, one grabbing hold of the table and the other on the chair, preventing her from what I think was an attempt to kiss me. In what was a far gentler move than she deserved, given I had been, until this point, patiently polite, I extricated her hand from my shirt.

“Like I said, I will have them call you a ride.” I remarked, my tone now abrupt.

Why did people feel they could do whatever they liked just because they knew my face or name?

Turning, I didn’t even bother hollering to the boys that I was leaving, instead telling the guard at the VIP entrance to get her water and a taxi before grabbing one of my own.

The flight home the next day was absolute hell.

Not only could I not use my phone, but as we boarded Jack had sheepishly shown me the latest headlines which were circulating across the web. I was again the most wanted celebrity in the country for photos and scoops, and it seemed there were plenty of journos who were willing to follow me at any opportunity to get whatever they could to fabricate a story.

There were images of Arna and I from the fundraiser last week, which in isolation, were the only good part about the entire fucking thing. Yet when these were contrasted with images of myself and bloodyGinawith the caption -The Two-Timing Tales of Andy Gloss and his DoublePlay While on the Road- my blood boiled.

None of the boys had even tried to make a joke which told me they either realised it wouldn’t have gone down well, or they were also annoyed with the constant media attention we faced. The two-hour flight was normally no big deal but the fact I hadn’t heard from Arna made it feel like a lifetime. I wasn’t fussed when she didn’t reply to my good morning text, knowing she would still be asleep, but after finding out about how my night was misconstrued, my frantic texts and missed calls before the plane took off left me uncharacteristically apprehensive.

Did she believe their words? Was she angry, upset, or did she expect this from me?

Had I unintentionally fucked up whatever this was with her. Already.

Turning on the flight map to see how much longer we had, I sighed. Forty minutes of over-thinking. Would she even take my calls to let me explain or would she be the same as the millions before who took the photos as gospel.

I wouldn’t blame her if she did because things didn’t look good, but this was why I fucking hated those pricks who felt zero remorse when publishing total lies about someone they didn’t even know.

The slimy prick had gotten a photo just as Gina fell onto me so it appeared as though I was about to hug her. The other picture captured was when she reached up to grab my shirt, my face blurred so it was with the reader to determine my interest. Within the space of eight days, I was photographed with two blondes and from photos alone it wasn’t good. I couldn’t have given a flying fuck about the way they described me as aplayboy playerorflirtatious footballer. My only care was for the way this made Arna seem as though she were one of many and that was the last thing I wanted. Because it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Lifting my hat, I ran my hands through my hair and rested my face in my palms. Wi-Fi on planes needed to be mandatory because this waiting game was excruciating. Lifting my face, I turned as someone plopped themselves into the empty seat next to me just before the blinding light from outside blasted into my eyes.

Jay sat back, moving into his own space after raising the window shade next to me.

“No use hiding in the dark, brother. What’s done is done.” His brows arched as if it was no big deal and I had no right to be wallowing. His headphones sat around his neck, as always, with not a care in the world and I vaguely remembered a time when that was me.

“Did you need something?” I mumbled, my head still resting in my hands.

“You to stop being a fucking sook.” He hit my forearms causing me to sit up as he locked my tray table into place. “You can’t be this upset over the loss yesterday so I’m going to say the sour look on your face is because Arna is squeezing your balls over the photos of you and that blonde chick.”

“Jay, I’m doing my best not to lose my shit, so get to the point or piss off.”

“Cap.” He sighed and I looked over at him properly, squinting as the light reflected off the glass of his watch. He was always the first to pull a prank, make the team laugh or piss you the hell off but for once, he looked genuinely concerned. “Do I think you are already pussy whipped and lame as fuck? Yes.”

I glared at him and he held his hands up, a grin lining his face. There was the Jay I knew.

“Sorry, you’re making it too easy with a face like that. My point is you have half the team who saw what really happened last night. We have your back, brother. When we land, go and speak to that hot arse woman of yours and explain. She’s not an idiot. You might find you’re not giving her enough credit.” Before I could respond, he put his headphones on, stood and danced his way back to his seat.

I turned to look out the window, puffs of cloud sitting below an otherwise breathtakingly beautiful blue sky. Looking down, the water appeared closer than it was, subtly moving as we soared by and I replayed what Jay said as I again looked at the images on my phone. At no point in time had Arna given me the impression she wouldn’t believe me. That she was anything like the scumbags who printed the deceptive lies about me. She was the most intelligent person I knew, and as much as it pained me to even think, Jay was right. I wasn’t giving her enough credit. As soon as the plane landed I needed to speak to her because I was quickly realising she wasn’t someone I wanted to give up nor was she someone who deserved the rubbish the media pulled. And it was suddenly essential for her to know just how much I needed her in my life because I was a better person with her by my side.

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