Dirty Bad Strangers(24)

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“It’s a ruling we have here... part of the telecoms services legislation. Regulation six five three. Understand? Six five three.”

I held my breath, until I heard the dead tone.

I hoped he did understand.









Chapter Seven




Jason



So infuriatingly close, but it was real. She was real. Two numbers left.

Trevor Loveridge watched me with eagle-eyes through training, keeping a lookout for any signs of temper or lag, no doubt. But today was different. I had a spring in my step, a flush of excitement I hadn’t felt in years.

Lucy was real, and she was fucking hot. A soft peach, swollen ripe to be eaten. Yeah, I was excited all right.

It showed in my game. My passes were tight and accurate, muscles on fire as I ploughed into sprint after sprint. Fernandez was quick, but today I matched him, stealing the ball every chance I got.

We broke for lunch, and for once I joined in my teammates’ banter, soaking up the pre-match buzz of the big game tomorrow.

Our rivals at the top of the division, Manchester Athletic, were playing us at home. Bring it fucking on.

A couple of the youngsters broke into our Singers chant before food was done, and the whole canteen stood in unison to bellow out the words. I closed my eyes, standing proud with the rest of them, letting the moment sweep me away. Ten years I’d been at the club, and this would be my last, the end of an era.

The end of my Premiership dream, but the what-ifs no longer petrified me.

All over a chatline girl? Maybe. Who really cared? It felt good.

Trevor sent the first team off early for the afternoon, his instructions clear.

Get some rest. Be on your best bastard form for tomorrow. Show those Mancunian fuckers who rules the Premier League!

Maybe just this once I’d do as I was told.



I took a detour out to Steve’s on the way home, announcing my arrival with my own personal rendition of the Singers chant.

“Aye-aye, mate,” he said. “Can’t bloody get rid of you these days.”

“Fancied a drive.”

“Sure you did.” He flashed me a smile, one of his old ones, full of mischief. “Fucking hell, you caught lucky there. She looks like a right goer.”

I took a perch on the workbench as he measured out timber.

“Me and you, Steve, I’ll bring her out here, before the Carlisles get involved. Just us, and her.”

“Sounds good to me, mate.”

“I need some things for the barn. Will you order them if I give you the cash?”

I handed him a list, checking out his expression as he scanned it.

“...Bloody hell, Jase, this shit ain’t gonna come cheap.”

“It’ll be worth it.”

“She’ll be worth it, you mean.”

“Yes, she will.”

He grinned, and it took ten years off him. “Think you might be right.”

“I’m going to need your car. Can’t exactly rock up at hers in any of mine.”

“I’ll need your clothes, your barn and your Land Rover... Terminator would have been quite a different film, mate.”

I smirked, slapping him on the back as I made my exit.

“I’ll be back.”









Gemma



Friday night was a no show for Jason, not that I had time to dwell on it. I’d been up til gone four, pretending to drug a roomful of girlfriends and shave all their hair off. Not my favourite fetish, but it had really clocked up my bonus. I slept in late Saturday, woken finally by the relentless buzz of the intercom.

I trudged through the living room in my dressing down, only to groan inside as Chelsea’s voice greeted me.

“Tessa said you’d be in.”

Thanks a bunch, Tess.

I’d been avoiding Chelsea since our spat at the club, content to keep her on the periphery of my life for the time being. Seems she wasn’t so happy with the arrangement. I buzzed her in, flicking on the kettle as she marched her way inside. She had new extensions in, even longer than the last.

“Nice hair.”

“Purest platinum,” she smiled, twirling for me.

“Tessa’s on a double shift today, won’t be in until late.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know I came to see you. Not still sulking, are you? I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” I said, handing her a coffee anyway.

“Can we be friends again?” She fluttered her ridiculously long lashes, giving me her very best please please please pout.

“We’ve always been friends. I just don’t want to spend time with someone who thinks I’m a fat, desperate embarrassment.”

“I don’t think that!”

I shrugged. “Not how it sounded.”

“We’d all had a few drinks, Gemma, don’t condemn me as the eternal sinner.” She took her coffee through to the living room, making herself well and truly at home.