9. Robbie
ROBBIE
I managed to score one goal and Santi the other. At least the first game Cassie attended I didn’t completely fall on my face. Not that I care that she was in the crowd, of course.
I pull my shirt back on over my head, the material sticking to my damp skin from my shower. Adrenaline is still buzzing through my blood, and I’m sure I’ll need a few hours on the bike before I can calm down enough to sleep.
“King,” Florent calls from his office. I swing my bag over my shoulder and cross the locker room to his side. “Good work out there.”
I nod my head, glancing over my shoulder. It wasn’t the worst game of my career but I still haven’t forgotten the pass that Hunter missed.
“Hamilton wants you to head to the suite.”
“Really?” I bite out.
Florent shrugs. “Better you than me.”
I bite my tongue. No doubt Hamilton has a crowd of people in there that he wants to tart me around to. I’m literally getting dragged around by my bollocks at this point.
I take a steadying breath before turning on my heels. The family and friends suite is on the other side of the stadium, so it takes at least five minutes for me to stride down the hallway.
MUM
Well done sweetheart <3
DAD
Good game son that missed pass was shocking
IWAN
Apparently Cassandra was there? Ffion went nuts
GWEN
We’re on a Cassandra lockdown now
IWAN
SOS
ME
thanks all
I ignore the Cassandra comments. I already know they’ll be like a dog with a bone as soon as they find out we’re being forced into the same rooms.
Speaking of Cassie, she’s, of course, the first person I see when I walk into the stadium lounge.
She’s standing against the bar, her red curls bouncing over her shoulders as her delicate hand covers her laugh.
There’s a small brunette next to her, the freckles dotted across her cheeks visible from across the room.
The girl spots me and turns to Cassie, widening her eyes in a move I assume she thinks is subtle.
I almost want to cross the room to her side, but her father blocks my path before I remember that I shouldn’t.
“Great game today, King.” He slaps my shoulder with a strong hand, almost enough to knock me off my feet if I hadn’t braced myself.
“Thanks sir,” I tell him. “I’m about to head home. Still wrapping my head around the extra time with traff—”
“Nonsense, let me introduce you to some people.” He plants his hand on the back of my shoulder and guides me across the room, introducing me to a bunch of suits. At least one of them is wearing a cowboy hat. In LA.
I keep my media-trained smile stuck on my face as I make small talk with them all.
We made it a bit harder for ourselves than we needed to but at the end of the day…
Hoping to do good things this season…
The lads will need to work hard as a unit…
I hear a tinkling laugh across the room and without looking, I just know it’s her. It’s the same smoky, sultry chuckle I heard the first night we met, and my head turns in her direction like a magnet.
I finally manage to extract myself from the masses under the guise of grabbing a drink and make my way over to the bar.
The bar is a few meters long, but I can’t help myself from approaching it just behind Cassie.
She’s in cream wide leg trousers and a tight matching waistcoat.
She leans forward into the bar, her curls gliding across her shoulders, exposing a slip of her pale back, and her red tipped shoes flick up as she cocks her hip.
I can sense the second she notices me, her smile freezing on her face slightly. She composes herself quickly, flicking her hair and billowing the tantalizing scent of her shampoo over me. “Hello, Bert.”
I tilt my head. “Sandra.”
Her friend giggles before extending her hand to me. “Anya. Nice to meet you.”
I return her friendly smile and shake her hand. “Robbie. Did you enjoy the game?”
Anya laughs again, glancing at Cassie. “Yeah, I wasn’t much help though, I’m afraid. I’ve never seen a real game of football in my life.”
“Oh, someone needed help?” I peer down at Cassie, who takes another gulp of her drink.
“It’s not my fault it’s not a normal sport.”
“Cassie doesn’t believe that football is the most famous sport in the world.” Anya takes another sip, the giant rock on her left hand glinting in the lights.
“Sacrilege.” I raise my eyebrows.
“Hey, at least I’m calling it football.” Cassie draws out the word.
Anya snickers. “Literally what 95% of the world population calls it, babe.” She turns to me. “How are you finding playing soccer?”
“Yeah, still not calling it that.” I can’t hide the grimace. “Nice to hear a fellow Brit over here.”
“Oh I’m terribly sorry.” Cassie puts on a pretty good RP accent. “Is my American too gauche for you?”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes and I can’t help but play into it, even when I know I shouldn’t. I put on a much posher accent than my own, “Entirely.”
She rolls her eyes lightly as she takes another sip of her drink.
“Are you missing home?” Anya asks me so earnestly it almost takes my breath away.
I think of the leafy green trees bracketing the narrow winding road on the way to my parents house, the sound of my niece and nephew playing in the garden and my mother singing along to the radio in the kitchen.
I miss a home I barely lived in more than the penthouse I owned for most of my career.
I take a sip of my water. “Yeah, a bit.”
“First time I came out here, my friend sent me a care package of British snacks and it was the best.” Anya moans. “I can bring some back with me next time I’m back here.”
I smile at her offer. We met two seconds ago. “That’s kind, thank you.”
“When are you heading back to London?” Cassie asks her.
“Tomorrow morning.” Anya glances around the room. “I better get out of here soon once I find my ride. Speak of the devil.” Suddenly, a new face joins our trio. One I’ve seen on billboards and runways across the world.
“There you are,” Pip Covington says breathlessly. “Oh, hello.” She turns to me with an appraising smirk. I feel like she’s peering directly into my soul and laughing at whatever she finds. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
Everything about Pip tells me she knows exactly who I am.
I hold out my hand. “Robbie.”
“Pip.” She shakes my hand firmly. “Trust me, I would love to stay and chat, but I have to leave.” She turns to the girls. “Are you guys ready to go?”
“Yep.” Anya downs the rest of her drink, but I keep my eyes on Cassie as she glances around the room.
“I’m going home with my dad,” Cassie says, gesturing to him on the other side of the room. I glance over and see him surrounded by a group of middle-aged men, a full glass in his hand.
“Are you sure?” Pip asks.
“I’m sure.” Cassie wraps both girls in a goodbye hug. “Is everything okay, honey?” She murmurs quietly to Pip. It’s none of my business, so I keep my attention on my nearly empty glass.
“Always, darling.” Pip waves her hand dismissively. “Lovely to meet you, Robbie.” She presses a kiss to my cheek before turning back to Cassie. “Goodbye, goodbye. Fire your stylist tomorrow. She’s dreadful.”
I eye the curve of Cassie’s breast visible from the plunging neckline of her waistcoat and think her stylist probably has pretty good taste.
Pip and Anya cross the room to the exit, and I’m left in the awkward silence with Cassie. I should walk away too. I could slip out of here easily now Hamilton is distracted. I could go home, eat dinner, jump on my bike and climb into bed exhausted. But instead I keep my feet firmly planted.
“Your friends seem nice.”
Cassie turns to me with a smile. “Yeah, I found some good ones. Are you hanging out around here?”
I tilt my head side to side. “Hopefully not. It’s been a long day, you know.”
“Congrats, by the way. On the game.” It’s genuine, not laced with the sarky banter all of our other conversations have been full of.
“Thanks for watching.”
She blushes slightly. “Yeah well, I kind of had to, so...”
What would I do if Cassie was watching my games for me, not just because she was forced by her father to be there? Maybe she’d be in the crowd wearing my name on her back.
Laughter echoes from the side of the room where Hamilton is guffawing it up with a group of men.
Cassie glances over. “I think he’s going to be here a while.”
“Probably.” I put my glass back on the bar and grab my bag from the floor. “I guess I’ll see you at the next game.”
“I’ll be in the box next time, I think. Those seats are not comfortable.”
“Maybe you pull some strings with management for an upgrade.”
She grins. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I pull at the strap of my bag. My brain is ready to leave, but my feet don’t seem to want to cooperate.
“Right,” I announce, shaking my head before I do something stupid like blurt out if she needs a ride home. “Do you need a ride home?” For fuck’s sake.
“Hmm?”
I take a deep breath. “I can give you a ride home. If you need one.”
She glances back at the corner of the room where her dad is still holding court.
“Yeah, a ride would be great actually.”