Page 20 of Payback
And fucking hell, that connection carried over in the bedroom in ways I never imagined. We spent hours fucking, and laughing, and talking. Maybe it was because we both knew there were no expectations beyond the one night. Regardless, Allie Harris was the best sex of my life, and I’ve spent the last two years comparing every woman I come across to her.
I had every intention of asking for her number, but she crept out of the hotel room before the sun was even up, like a thief in the night.
“What’s your deal?” a voice booms behind me, causing me to jump about ten feet in the air.
Heart pounding, I turn on my heel to find my roommate and midfielder, Maclay Logan, leaning against a locker, watching me curiously. His heavily tattooed arms are crossed over his chest, offsetting the wild mane of childish auburn red hair on his head. The guy is built like a brick house and the largest soccer player I know who’s not positioned as a keeper.
His eyes are laser-focused on me, so I quickly shake off my tense stance and coolly reply, “Nothing.”
“Fuck that. You’re shook,” he growls back in his Scottish accent.
“I’m not shook,” I snap defensively.
Mac’s green eyes twinkle with challenge. “DeWalt, you’re shooketh if ever I’ve seen a shooketh! Now get it telt what’s crawled up your arse.”
I roll my eyes and curse the day I ever let this pushy Scot into my life. We were both recruited to Bethnal Green F.C. the same year and ended up commiserating as newbies often do. This typically entailed moaning about the Harris family, doing workout sprints around Hyde Park, and playing Fortnite for an obscene number of hours like a couple of lame teenagers.
Mac awaits my response, so I do a cursory glance toward the showers to make sure Tanner and Booker aren’t coming back yet. I lean in close and state in a low voice, “Allie Harris is back.”
Mac’s brows lift. “Fuck you.”
“I’m serious, man. Booker and Tanner just told me.”
“What’s she doing here?”
“Evidently she lives here now.”
Mac bursts out laughing, covering his mouth as he howls with way too much pleasure. “Fucking hell, you’re doomed.”
“Fuck you. Why are you saying that?” I snap, annoyed that he seemingly knows something I don’t.
“Because you haven’t stopped talking about the burd for two damn years,” he booms. “You’re as good as WAG’d. Mark my words. She’ll be sitting in the wives and girlfriends section at our next match.”
“Fuck off, you idiot. I barely know her. We had one night together that was just a bit of jol…a bit of fun,” I state, explaining a term that’s used in South Africa when referencing fun.
“One night you have every intention of repeating, am I right?”
My brows lift. “I mean, if I have any say in the matter, fuck yeah.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Future WAG.”
“I told you, she’s different. She didn’t want any strings when I saw her last. I’ve never met a woman who blatantly admitted that she just wanted a casual one-night stand.”
“You’re not the type of lad who can handle casual,” Mac replies knowingly.
I roll my eyes because it’s somewhat true, but not exactly. I’m not like my teammates who easily roll from one bed to the next, night after night. It’s not my style. I’m the type that if I find something I like, I like it more than once. But only for a month. Any length of time after a month is typically when women start to get attached, and attachment creates drama. I am a drama-free zone. But I made a very happy exception to spend only one night with Allie Harris.
“So you’re going to change her from a taste test to your usual flavour of the month?” Mac asks, tweaking his brows lasciviously at me.
I blow out a long breath. “Fuck knows. It’s been two years since I laid eyes on the woman. Maybe that spark was something I imagined.”
“Good point,” Mac states with a serious look. “She could be married by now for all you know.”
“Fuck you, man. Whose side are you on?” I’m not proud of the frustrated growl that vibrates in my chest.
Mac’s eyes go wide as he holds his hands up defensively. “Look at you. Jealous already.”
A chill runs down my spine. I turn on my heel to grip the sides of my cubby again, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. This is just like with any other woman, so why am I getting so worked up? Yes, I made an exception for her two years ago, but that doesn’t mean she’s some special, rare flower that is going to change who I am. I just need to find out some information on her. That’s all.
