4. Asher
FOUR
Asher
Hoots and wolf-whistles echo down the corridor as I make my way into the squad room, and curiosity has me stepping a little faster. Walking through the door, I shouldn’t have bothered, as five of my teammates almost take me to the floor.
“Look out ladies, Clark Kent is in the house,” one of them ribs me, but then proceeds to grip my hand and slap me on the back.
“Sorry, Asher.” Kai strolls over, offering his hand as well. “They sent over the proofs for the board to approve and I just thought everyone should see them.”
“I bet you did.” I shake my head at his smirk and take his hand as he pulls me into a slapping man hug, both of us laughing.
“Hey, we wanted diverse opinions on it,” he shrugs, his face contorting in his efforts to control his laughter. “But seriously, the photos came out good.”
A picture of me in the suit jacket and pair of glasses on doesn’t look half bad, even if I do say so myself. What I see that they don’t, is the colouring on my abs and the sexy as fuck woman who put it there.
“I can’t believe you get to go over to Vegas for that,” Billy grouses, interrupting my train of thought, but still offers me his hand. “It’s not like I’m not good-looking. I’m good-looking, right?”
“You’re bloody gorgeous,” Kai drawls, giving the man, who for all intents and purposes is his brother-in-law, a friendly shove on the shoulder. “But you’re not single, mate.”
“So the only reason pretty boy here gets to go to Vegas is because he’s single? I guess I can give him this one,” he laughs, taking a seat.
“Don’t let my sister hear you saying that.” Kai rolls his eyes, as the rest of the team breaks off into small groups, Billy nodding his agreement. “You did good, Asher.”
“Thanks. I…”
“If you’re worried about what happened with Tyler, don’t be.” How the hell did he know? “When I said you did good, I meant it. From what I hear he was fined a hefty sum. Besides, you did it in defence of a woman, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I breathe. Tyler’s reaction wasn’t unexpected, but Miss Makeup didn’t deserve how he spoke to her. Plus, I haven’t been unable to stop thinking about that very woman. Those eyes. That ass. Her sassy attitude…
“Hey,” Kai snaps his fingers in front of my eyes. “Wake up, sunshine. We’ve got a trial match against the Rays coming up. Is this going to be a problem?”
“Probably not,” I shrug, expecting it to be a shitshow no matter what I do.
“I need you to be certain, Asher. No probablies about it. They’re going to target you, and I have to be able to rely on you not to escalate it.” There’s concern in his face and for the first time in a long time, I care that I might have disappointed him.
“If they’re targeting me, then that leaves the field open for everyone else to score. Right?” It makes sense to use their misplaced hatred of me to our advantage, and despite what people say about my ego, I’m willing to make that sacrifice and take the hit.
“It does make sense, but I can’t ask you to put yourself at risk. They’re not gonna take it easy, Asher. The hits will be hard.” He’s offering me an out, and maybe it’s his way of testing my commitment to the team. Or maybe it’s just who Kai is.
“I think I’ve proven I can take a hit,” I joke, but wipe the smile from my face at Kai’s frown. “Seriously, using their weakness against them is the right move. Putting a tonne of points on them will prove they were idiots to let me go.”
“I want to ask you something and I need your absolute honesty,” he says, a seriousness I’ve never seen in him before making me second think what I just said, but I nod. “Are you happy here, Asher?”
I’ve been playing footy since I was a kid. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. In all that time, I can never recall anyone ever asking me if I was happy. Not my parents. Not my teammates or coaches. Not even my manager.
Ordering my thoughts, I inhale and give him my answer. “I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve been happier than I am since I made the move here. You, your family and the team have made me feel like I finally belong somewhere.”
“I’m glad,” Kai smiles, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Now let’s go plan the Rays’ downfall, huh?”
“Sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in ages.”
“How much longer are you going to mope?”
“I’m not moping,” I flop onto the couch as my cousin opens the fridge, looking for a drink. She’s not going to find anything in there.
“Cuz. Dude. You’ve been here for almost three months now and you still haven’t unpacked or done a proper grocery shop. I’m gonna stop coming over if you don’t even have a drink to offer me,” she complains, slapping her hand on the kitchen bench.
“There’s a tap and a cup if you’re thirsty.” I wave a hand in her direction, my mind elsewhere.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been a sad sack ever since that photoshoot. Surely Tyler’s punch didn’t bruise your ego that much.” I snort at her comment and flip her the bird.
I love my cousin, Mandy. She’s half the reason I was keen to sign with the Dingoes. Knowing the one family member I could rely on would be at the club, too, was a huge factor in signing the deal. She is, however, the only person I know who doesn’t give up when she smells trouble.
“Nothing, okay. There’s nothing wrong. The day anything Tyler does rates on my give a shit-o-meter, you know the world is coming to an end. Trust me.” She comes to sit down on the other couch, the one thing I have purchased since moving into my new place, and stares at me. “What? It’s true. Stop looking at me like that, it’s freaking me out.”
“If it’s not Tyler, then it’s something else. This,” she waves a hand at the piles of still full boxes stacked against the wall. “Isn’t you. And if it isn’t the dickwad, then there’s only one other thing it could be.”
I lay my phone on the armrest, taking a break from my aimless scrolling, and roll into a sitting position. “Okay, Sherlock. Hit me with your stunning deduction. I can’t wait for this one.”
“It’s obvious. You’re mooning over a woman,” she sighs, waving a hand at me, and I wonder if it is that obvious. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Did I say I love my cousin? Maybe right now I want to shove my head under a pillow and tell her how much I hate her for bringing my issue to light. I’d have happily moped about sassy Miss Makeup until I got over it. Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? I cannot stop thinking about her.
“It doesn’t matter,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
“Why doesn’t it? Who is she?” she asks, but it feels like a loaded question, and my shoulders stiffen.
“She’s not married if that’s what you’re asking,” I snap, pushing off the couch and head into the kitchen.
“I wasn’t asking that, Ash. I never would, I thought you knew I had your back…have I should say. Always,” Mandy adds, her brows pinched as she studies me across the space.
She’s right. She’s always right, but after everything I’ve been through, it’s so easy to jump to conclusions about things. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. This shit’s messing with my head.”
“It’d mess with anyone’s head,” Mandy sighs, getting to her feet. “So, are you gonna tell me who this woman is, or do I have to torture you to find out?”
That’s the million-dollar question. Who is this woman? I still don’t know anything about her, except that she does makeup. And has me in a tailspin.
“Ash?”
“What do you want me to say, Mandy? That I fucked up? That she was so damn beautiful and intoxicating, I…I…”
Coming to stand opposite me, a heavy sigh pushing from her lips, she leans on the counter. “Fuck, Ash, did you put one foot or two in your mouth?”
“Geez, cuz, you make me sound like an idiot. It wasn’t like that. I just got tongue tied. I mean, how bad can it be to call her a cute girl?” Mandy’s eyes roll so far into the back of her head I swear she’ll see into last week.
“You called her cute?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Is being called cute really that bad? Judging by my cousin’s reaction, I should ask the earth to open up and swallow me.
“Puppies and kittens are cute, Ash. Women want to be told they’re beautiful, sexy, desirable. Is she hot?”
“So fucking hot, Mandy. Like can’t stop thinking about her hot. Got morning wood hot! Is that hot enough for you?” I wave an exasperated hand in the air.
“Ew! TMI, Ash. Do you even know her name?” Scraping a hand down my face, there’s no hiding what an idiot I am. Like, who doesn’t ask for someone’s name?
“Fuck! No, okay. I don’t know her name. I know she’s got this warm brown hair with fiery red streaks through it. Eyes like the ocean when the sun shines on it. And that ass, fuck…”
“I get the picture, Ash. How the hell did you not ask for her name? You lost your game or what?” she teases, the smirk she always got as a kid when she knew something I didn’t and wanted me to suffer plays on her lips.
“You’re gonna make me beg, aren’t you?”
“I should, you know. Making everyone suffer through your moodiness. I swear Billy’s ready to take you up to the bluff and drop you off the edge.” There’s a softness in her eyes, understanding, but she’s not wrong. I’ve been an utter ass since the shoot. Only training and acting like a damn stalker, trying to find the woman taunting me, has kept me somewhat sane.
“Please, Mandy. I’ve done everything I can think of to find out who she is.” I get down on my knees, my face just visible over the top of the counter, and clasp my hands in front of me. “Please. If you know how to…”
“Oh, just stop,” she groans, a shiver running the length of her body as she comes around the counter, grabbing me by the elbow and hauling me to my feet. “I thought I’d love to see you begging, but it’s wrong on every level.”
Does it make me an ass that I knew this was the string to pull to get my cousin to help me? Maybe, but I’m desperate.
“Do you have the contract you signed for the photoshoot?” Her head tilts to the side, an air of doubt in the movement.
I might be a lot of things, but complacent about my career isn’t one of them. “Yeah, of course, but how’s that gonna help?”
“Just give it to me,” she snaps, waving her hand at me expectantly.
“Geez, fine.” Walking back into the lounge area, I grab my phone and bring the contract up, offering it over to her.
Mandy hums to herself, her tongue poking out as she scans the document. Even as kids she was the smart one and I never understood why her mum was so disappointed when her daughter decided to pursue a career in rugby league. We all know it won’t last forever. We’re like falling stars, bright in the sky for a moment of our lives before dipping away into obscurity. Well, I mean, there are legends of the game whose names are synonymous with footy—Churchill, Lewis, Thurston. We all strive to be one of those names. And neither of us takes for granted what we’re privileged to be doing. With her smarts, though, Mandy will have plenty of options after she’s done with the game.
“Well?” I shift on my feet impatiently, peering over her shoulder.
“Give me a minute, would you,” she grunts through clenched teeth, taking a step away to escape my hovering. “Ah-ha! There.”
“Where? What? C’mon, Mandy, what is it?” I dodge and weave to try and get a glimpse of what she’s found.
“Be patient.” She waves a hand at me, picking up her phone and double checking something on it before typing furiously on her keypad.
Snatching up my phone, I scan the screen she was on, but it’s all a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to me. I mean, I know the parts that pertain to me specifically. I make sure I understand that, but this?—
“Holy. Fucking. Shit!” Mandy exclaims, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.
“What? What! What the fuck, Mandy?!”
“Dude! She is hot as fuck!”
“You found her? Show me. How the fuck did you find her so quickly?” Reaching for her phone, she dances away, holding it aloft.
“Say I’m the best. The best cousin in the world,” she teases, a smile a mile wide on her face.
I’d be her slave for the rest of my life if she shows me, but I won’t tell her that. “You’re the best. The most wonderful, beautiful, smartest cousin in the world. There, is that good enough?”
She keeps her phone just out of reach, both of us adept at evading other thanks to our training. “She really is gorgeous, Ash.”
“No shit,” I snap, my anger bubbling up. “Hey, you have a girlfriend already.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a beautiful woman when I see one, geez. Fine, here you go, you big baby.” Handing me her phone on a grunt, I snatch it away, cradling it in my hands like it was some precious thing. “You’ve really got it bad, huh?”
“What? No, don’t be stupid,” I snark, hoping she doesn’t spot the insecurity, the lie in my words.
“You know there is such a thing as love at first sight, right?” Offering her a cutting glance, I twist away, scrolling down the Instagram account Mandy found.
“That’s only in your dumb romance books.” I wave her away, consumed by the fucking angel before me.
Feminine Wiles . And doesn’t she have that in spades.
It’s obviously a business account. There are images of women and men with before and after shots of the makeup she’s done. Time-lapse videos of doing different makeup tutorials on herself. Fuck, I could sit here all day and watch her. Get lost in doing it. Forget the outside world. Fuck?! Is Mandy right?
“Scroll back to the top, lover boy,” Mandy says, a laugh in her voice. “I think you’ll like what you find. And FYI, love at first sight is a real thing. You’re living proof.”
Poking my tongue out at her like a five-year-old, I do what she says and fumble with her phone, almost dropping it on the floor when I find it. There, on the set of the photoshoot is me, the angle she’s taken her picture from showing, well, everything, and there, at the bottom, is the caption #cuteboy .
“Seems like you made an impression on her too,” Mandy remarks, but I can’t look away from her phone. “Plus, she’s got a sense of humour, it seems. She’ll need that if she’s gotta deal with you every day.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“You’re such a dork sometimes, Ash. This is an obvious play on your words… and , I do not see any other photos from that day. Only you. It’s obvious she was taken with you as much as you were with her.” I understand what she’s saying, but it mustn’t show on my face as she pushes an exaggerated sigh out.
“It doesn’t change anything. I still don’t know her name, and this,” I wave Mandy’s phone in her face, “is her business account.”
“Give me fucking strength,” she answers in exasperation, swiping her phone back. “I thought you had game, Ash. Evidently, you’re a they’ll-come-crawling-to-me kinda guy, which is ick , by the way.”
“Hey! I resent that! I am not that guy. Never have been. I just…” The way she looks at me, like I’m some wounded animal, makes me feel like the biggest idiot in the world. I should have been able to work this out. Right?
“I know you’re not that guy. I’m teasing. You make it too easy sometimes, Ash. Look, it’s simple,” she leans on the counter and I stand next to her, hovering, watching as she scrolls through Miss Feminine Wiles’, posts. “If we look at who likes her posts the most and then…click on their profile…scroll through their followers…and…voilà! Here’s your mystery woman.”
Wiley Nolan.
Wiley Nolan.
Wiley Nolan.
Repeating the name over and over in my head to make sure it sticks; I mean, how could it not? I want to get her name tattooed across my heart, for fuck’s sake. I want…I want her. I want an us and I feel like a loon with the smile that takes over my face. Waltzing around my kitchen, scrolling through her posts. If this love at first sight thing is real, I’m falling head over heels.
“There isn’t a fella in sight,” Mandy comments offhand and I lift my head up to see her with my phone in hand.
“Do you think that means she’s single?” I ask hopefully, clicking on a picture of Wiley in a sexy as fuck dress that hugs her body, highlighting her fine, fine ass, and curves that go for days.
“Either that or she’s gay?” Mandy shrugs and that thought hits like a tonne of bricks. “Hold still, I need a picture of this.”
“You’re a cruel bitch sometimes, Mandy,” I growl, twisting away from her.
“Hey, Ash, I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve never seen you like this before. You’ve never lost yourself to a woman. I kinda like it, knowing that you’re human, like the rest of us mere mortals.” She slides up next to me, bumping me with her hip. “So, you gonna follow her or not?”
Shifting my attention from the phone clutched in my hands and then back to Mandy, the thought hadn’t even occurred to me, but when it does, sweat breaks out down my back. My heart starts to hammer out Led Zeppelin’s—Immigrant Song , and I flap my gums like a lunatic.
“Oh…um, no. I can’t.” I shake my head, my fingers tightening around the phone. “She might think I’m a damn stalker.”
“You are a stalker, cuz, but the good kind,” she laughs the last part, one corner of her mouth quirking up. “Look, she’s got a fair number of followers. She’s probably not even gonna notice.”
“Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better,” I stretch out the last bit, rolling my eyes. “No, I?—”
“Too late,” she pronounces with a grin, and I flick my attention to the phone in her hand and realise it’s mine.
“What the fuck did you do?” I reach for it, our game of cat and mouse resuming.
“I did you a favour,” she calls over her shoulder as she darts out of the kitchen, headed for the bathroom. “And I’m about to do you another one.”
The door slams in my face before I get there, the lock snicking into place and I’d be lying if I wasn’t tempted to kick it in. “Mandy! Give me my phone back now!”
“Or what? You’ll tell my mummy,” she mocks, as I bash on the door.
“I wouldn’t tell your mum anything. She’d kick my ass worse than you,” I admit, Mandy’s hum of agreement reaching me through the door. “C’mon on, Mandy. Don’t do this.”
After a minute or two of me thumping on the door and pleading, it opens and Mandy hands me my phone. “You’re welcome.”
Holding the phone up to open it, I thumb through to Instagram and now I want the earth to open up and swallow me. I’m so screwed.