Pippa's Fantasy (13 page)

“You might be right, Cassie, but it’s just not that easy. For starters the reason Gareth isn’t interested in any of the swarms of women is because he left his heart back in Gunnedah, and until he does something about her, he won’t be happy. I think that is why we get on so well. We’re both broken. You know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I think I need to talk to Brodie. I’m thinking maybe a stint with the folks in the UK might be a good idea. Put a little distance between Rook and me.”

“Oh, no, Pippa, you can’t! How would I cope without you? You’re my best friend, my family. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave the Jets—you love that team. Just talk to Rook. Gosh, if you won’t then maybe I should, ’cause I don’t want to lose you,” Cassie cried, starting to stand up as if to make good on her threat to go to Rook.

Pippa grabbed at her friend and dragged her back down to her chair, just as Gareth and Riley came back from the bar with the drink refills. Before Pippa had a chance to ask Cassie not to mention their conversation, her best friend blurted out her worries.

“Riley, Gareth, you’ve got to talk some sense into Pippa. She was just telling me that she’s thinking of quitting the Jets and going over to England to stay with her folks. Tell her she can’t leave… Riley, do something…please.”

Pippa just wanted the ground to open and swallow her up. Just behind Cassie, as she was pleading to Riley and Gareth, stood Brodie and JT. And it was obvious by the stormy look on the giant men’s faces that they were not happy. Now she was the centre of attention and very uncomfortable, what with all the glares she was receiving. Pippa tried to stand, thinking that it was definitely time to use the flight mode of her fight-or-flight adrenaline boost.

“Not so fast, young lady,” Brodie boomed as he took hold of her hand and dragged her back to her chair. “This has gone on for far too long. JT and I thought that you two would get it together by now and stop moping around each other, but obviously you are both far too immature or stubborn, or a mixture of both, to do that.” Brodie continued his lecture, his voice becoming more serious. “But if this problem you and Rook are having is going to affect my footy team, then as coach I think it’s time I step in and sort it out.”

“Oh, Brodie…”

“Don’t interrupt me, Phillipa Rodgers. I’m not finished.” Brodie resumed speaking, his voice cutting her off abruptly, not letting Pippa say a word in her own defence.

“I’m calling a meeting. I want you and Mitchell Harris in my office at ten a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. No excuses from either of you. JT, can you go and tell that thickhead his presence is required tomorrow, and while you’re at it, strongly encourage our Rook to leave that girl alone and get back to running his bar.”

“Sure thing, Brodes. I’m all over it.” Pippa didn’t miss the ear-to-ear grin on JT as he took off, headed in Rook’s direction.

“Now do I have your assurance that you will be at my office tomorrow, Pip?” Brodie was staring her down, making Pippa feel like a five-year-old getting a stern talking-to from her father. He had always been a bit of a bossy boots, Pippa thought, wondering how Caitlin put up with it.

“Yes, Brodie, I’ll be there. But I’m not sure this is a very good idea. I think I need to speak with you privately first. There are some things you should know—things I’ve done, things that were none of Rook’s doing.”

Pippa was trying to stop the tears from overflowing. She hated the thought of coming clean to Brodie, hated the fact that she was about to prove she could not be trusted. About to let the man who had treated her like his kid sister, or even daughter, know that she had let him down.

“Tomorrow, Pippa. We will sort it all out tomorrow. I’m off home to my beautiful wife and gorgeous children. I think all of you should head out too.” Brodie’s gaze fell to cover all at Pippa’s table. “Gareth, I’ll see you at training. Riley, I think Caitlin is expecting a visit from you and Cassie soon. Don’t let your sister down. And Pippa, stop worrying.” With that Brodie strode off towards the club’s exit and, as if on cue, JT stepped up next to him as they both sauntered out of the door.

Pippa smiled despite her problems. It was a bit creepy the way those two were joined at the hip. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sighs—probably of relief—coming from her friends as they all deliberated on what the events of tomorrow’s meeting might achieve. Cassie, Riley and Gareth made Pippa feel even more embarrassed. Such drama! It reminded her of a television soapy, and unfortunately for her, she was the star.

Chapter Twenty-One

Rook couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that JT had broken up his tryst with the blonde. The minute Rook had sat next to her, he’d known he had made a mistake. But he hadn’t wanted to seem rude, and so had made some small talk with the awestruck groupie.

God, he had forgotten what it was like to be around obsessed fans, women just wanting to add another footy player to their list of sexual conquests. It never failed to surprise Rook that women could be just as sexually permissive as men in that area. Blondie hadn’t cared what he liked or who his favourite band was—no, she’d just wanted to hear when he would be back on the field and info about other teammates’ relationship statuses. She’d even had the hide to ask if he was still able to perform with a dud leg—shit, he’d done his knee, not been castrated!—and hinted that she was quite happy to take the lead as she’d crudely sucked her finger in and out of her mouth.
Subtle.
And for Rook, the sight had held no attraction at all. It had not even raised a flicker of sexual interest in him.

Nope, nothing happened in that department these days unless he was around one Pippa Rodgers, he thought miserably.

Blondie had obviously picked up on his disinterest, because as soon as JT had joined them she’d had the audacity to flutter her fake eyelashes at him, oohing and ahhing at what a big boy he was.
Yeah, never heard that before
, Rook thought as he took the opportunity JT had presented by asking for a private word. He struggled to his feet and steered himself and JT away from Blondie’s flirting.

Even though he was glad for the interruption, Rook could not help but be a little worried over the reason. What did Brodie want to have a meeting with Rook about that couldn’t just be said tonight? Hell, they had been standing next to each other at the bar not long ago—surely Brodie hadn’t taken offence at his angry outburst.

And what was with sending JT to deliver the request, or was that more of a summons? Why hadn’t Brodie just asked? What was with all this cloak-and-dagger stuff?

Rook’s stomach rolled as a terrifying thought took root.

“No fuckin’ way. Surely they’re not gonna pull my contract because of my knee?” He murmured the words under his breath as Rook’s worst-case scenario—the end of his career—started to seem all the more imminent. A million thoughts raced through his mind.
But I’m getting better! Every day, I’m stronger… My God, what has Pippa been saying?
What had she been reporting to the coaching staff?

“So tomorrow then, Rook.”

Rook noticed Brodie walking away from where Pippa and Gareth were sitting and heading towards the door. He felt JT slap him on the shoulder as the big guy said goodbye before heading off in the same direction. Obviously the coaches had arrived together and were leaving the same way.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Rook finally managed to mumble, but way too late for JT to actually hear it over the noise of the club.

Rook hobbled over to the bar and sat down before the sheer weight of his troubles took him to the floor.

“Hey, boss, you okay? You’re lookin’ a bit shaky there. What’s wrong? Didn’t the blonde go for it?” Mick set a fresh beer down in front of Rook and tilted his head in a questioning way.

“Yeah, just hunky-dory if you don’t count my bung leg, and the fact I’ve been summoned for a meeting with the powers-that-be tomorrow, probably to tear up my contract on the grounds I’m a goddamn gimp who fucked the club physio and broke the club’s rules… Yep, I’m just peachy!” Rook simmered before taking a long pull from the beer, rubbing at the ring of condensation left on the bar. “Think I’ll just head on upstairs, try and get hold of my agent, see if he’s heard anything. You right to finish up here?”

Even though he knew he shouldn’t look, Rook couldn’t help searching for a last glimpse of Pippa before he headed on up to his apartment. His eyes combed the darkness of the club’s interior, but he couldn’t find her or her entourage anyplace.

“She just left, with Gareth. Not long after Brodie and JT left.” Mick’s tone held a slight touch of humour in it. He raised an eyebrow in Rook’s direction, while still managing to serve at least three customers at the same time.

Rook just glared back at the barman, ignoring the smug look on Mick’s face, before he turned and, with the help of his crutches, walked away without forming a reply.

* * * *

Pippa hadn’t been able to sleep. She had struggled with the urge to ring her dad and get his advice on what she should do, how she should proceed with her life. Should she ’fess up, resign her position at the Jets and look for something else, maybe overseas with her dad and mum? It had its positives. But she had wanted this job all her life, and did she really want to leave Cassie behind? And what about Rook? Was she strong enough to move on, get over him? Pippa didn’t think so.

If she hadn’t moved on since she was fifteen, what made her think she was going to be able to now? Perhaps she should just tell him how she felt. Tell Rook that he was her fantasy man, that his silver eyes haunted her dreams. That he made her pant with desire, her heart race at the mere sight of him, her core clench with need, drip moisture into her panties at the sound of his voice. She should tell him about the torture of rubbing her hands over his skin and having him show nothing in response.

Yeah, that would be a fine idea…
Humiliation was something she knew where Rook was concerned, and Pippa didn’t think she could handle the mortification of him rejecting her again.

Nope, resigning her position seemed the only answer.

No matter what angle, what scenario Pippa conjured up in regards to the meeting she was dreading, it all ended with one of two outcomes—either she would resign, or face humiliation once again at Rook’s rejection.

And the high likelihood of watching the embarrassment show on Rook face when Brodie broached the subject of her desires was not going to be the highlight of her day, either. It would be so much easier if she didn’t love him. Not that loving him was going to do her any good. The undisputed fact was that she didn’t even earn a blip on Rook’s radar. Nope, he was all about the fake, busty blondes, as proven again by his choice of woman at the club last night.

God, it made Pippa nauseous to see him with those shallow women, but what could she do? Rook had been a playboy from the get-go. The women had flocked around him from the very beginning of his career. Pippa should know—she had been there too, the coach’s young daughter.
Pipsqueak
—God, she’d hated that nickname—had had to watch them maul him, an awkward fifteen-year-old with nothing womanly to offer him at all. They were awful memories. Pippa much preferred her more recent ones—the time spent with Rook in his apartment, the way he had made her feel, had played her body with a maestro’s touch.
And why wouldn’t he?
she lamented.
Rook has been with enough women to know how to make one half-innocent come alive.

She sat staring out at the brickwork of the building that housed the Jets’ offices, gym and medical rooms—the same building that her father, as the Jets’ coach, had spent so much of her childhood working in, the same building she had not been allowed to enter post-match because she was female. That was probably the reason she had worked so hard to become a sports physiotherapist—to beat that rule and be invited into the footy inner sanctum.

She hadn’t noticed Rook approach her car, so she literally jumped, startled, when he opened the passenger side door and joined her, sitting down next to her. It was as if all the oxygen had been immediately sucked from the air. Her smallish car seemed to shrink inwards. Pippa could feel the heat emanating from Rook’s body as one of his wide shoulders almost touched hers.

Pippa swivelled her head towards him, at once captured in the depths of his silver eyes, unable to draw her own away. She sighed, or perhaps it was more like a little moan—she wasn’t sure. All she did know was that this man sitting beside her, only a slight movement away from touching her, did things to her heart and soul that no other did. And in a split-second Pippa decided that she was going to do herself a favour and give it one more go. She was going to tell Rook of her feelings towards him. Hey, what was the worst that could happen? He might walk away—she was used to that.

But if she didn’t try, just once more, before she gave up and walked away, she would never be able to forgive herself. Pippa had to know, had to make sure that there was no chance for her and Rook. Then, and maybe only then, she could get on with her life. Maybe, as Cassie always said, ‘find a nice man and settle down’.

Chapter Twenty-Two

He had been sitting in his car, working up the nerve to head into the building that had been such a big part of his life. For close to a third of the years he had been on this earth, Rook had been part of the Jets team. It was a family of sorts, and for a man with hardly any family, it was an important part of his being.

The thought that his life might be only minutes away from changing was not a happy one, but oddly it was the lone figure sitting in another car in the same car park that had him the most distracted.

He had really messed up, had really managed to do absolutely everything wrong when it came to Pippa. Rook was still appalled that he had not recognised the dark-haired beauty as the girl he had spent so much of his youth dreaming about. The blonde curls might now be coloured black, and the girlish curves formed into a toned and fit womanly body that oozed sex appeal, but she was still Pippa. The blue of her eyes alone should have clued him in—it was just that he hadn’t figured on seeing her again. Especially at Jetstream.