Red Card (18 page)

I
n the off
season you can usually find me on a yacht or in the gym.

For the past two years I've commissioned a charter around the Canary Islands, inviting swanky guests and hot women to join me. I've also gotten my arse bloody handed to me by my trainer, trying to get my rapidly aging body in shape to compete against the young squirts coming into the league.

Since I'd gotten suspended and the season ended, however, I'd done nothing but sit on my ass and drink specially aged bottles of Macallan. No yachts. No working out.

And I’d been counting the days since Leah left.

I know I'm a wanker. That I know. I'm a coward, a pussy, a scared shell of a man with no accountability and no regard for anyone. I know all of this.

But for her, I wish I could have been so much more.

I swirled the bottle in my hand, watching the amber liquid swirl and whirlpool to the bottom of the thick glass. I stared through it, seeing my picture and hers flash across the screen with the word "Donezo" stamped across it.

I sat up if only just to stare at her face behind the letters. God she was so fucking beautiful. I missed her so much that I laid in bed at night shaking and gasping for air, like a junkie trying to detox.

It was no one's fault but my own. I'd thrown such ugly and untrue accusations at her because I'd been too much of a coward to say fuck it all and just be with her. I was too caught up in the media storm, what the public thought, instead of what I truly should have been focused on. Her.

She'd said she loved me. My heart hurt thinking about it. I'd never said it back, and I would regret that every single day for the rest of my miserable life. Because I loved her so much that if I thought about it for one second, really honed in on that thought, I'd die. Because I'd also lost her.

I hadn't even tried to contact her before she left, my ignorant and stubborn pride having me believe she was in the wrong. I'd even gone out with a daft brunette just because I knew she'd see the story in the papers. Except the day after she left I had a bit of a breakdown. I'd gone on a two week bender, obliterating my senses so I wouldn't have to be conscious. Jimmy had nearly taken me to rehab until I'd calmed down a bit.

That's when I started calling her. And texting her. And emailing her. Fuck, I'd done everything but send a carrier pigeon.

And she hadn't responded. Not one peep, not even one hint that she'd even gotten my messages.

The commentators on the TV started talking about us on a panel, as if our relationship had been some sort of political standoff.

"He never even came out and said he was in a relationship with her. Can we really believe her words?"

I sat up straighter.

Jesus.

Bloody Christ.

I hadn't ever confirmed our relationship, not the way Leah had. I'd never even come out and said she was my girlfriend, much less that I loved her. Because I’d told her I didn’t want to. Because I was too much of a twit, a scared little wanker to say fuck it all and hold my girlfriend’s hand in public.

And suddenly I knew what I had to do. The last ditch effort to get the woman who made my life worth living back.

T
he production assistant
, a young blonde girl, kept fiddling with my mic on the collar of the suit jacket I wore. I knew she was trying to hit on me when she grazed her knuckles over the bare skin on my collarbone for the second time.

"I think that's enough." I said a bit too brusquely. She fluttered her eyelashes at me before I shot her a glare, at which point she dropped her head and walked away.

I sighed. It was bad enough I was about to jump out of my skin, I didn't need girls throwing themselves at me.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Jimmy looked up from his phone and saw my pale face.

I nodded. "I have to. It’s the only chance I have at getting her back."

"I don't disagree, mate. I'm proud of you." He clapped a big hand on my shoulder and walked to stand behind the cameras so he could watch the interview on the monitor.

I sat in the BBC studios across from Harold Canar, the bloke who is always interviewing celebrities on deep personal issues. Fuck no, I didn't want to do this. But I had to.

I realized I'd never given a concrete answer to the world about what Leah and I were. She'd been forthcoming, said she loved me, and I'd never responded. So now it was time that I did.

"Alright, we're going live in 10 seconds."

Harold nodded at me, not a smug smile on his face but not a warm one either. He knew how great this was for his career, and he was going to try and bludgeon me if I let him.

The producer started a countdown and then pointed silently to Harold.

"Good evening, I'm Harold Canar. Tonight, we sit down with British football's bad boy, Killian Ramsey. With a career and talent that started from a very young age, he worked his way through the ranks to become one of the most decorated and winning football players in English Premier League history. After the tragic death of his wife Eve five years ago, Mr. Ramsey has remained somewhat of a mystery to the public, besides his late nights and wild party ways. But did an American girl steal his heart, or was it all just for show? We'll find out tonight."

I heard music echo somewhere in the background and I fidgeted in the white armchair I sat in. All of the studio lights were getting to me, the sweat trickling down the inside of my black suit.

"And we're back in three, two..." The producer again pointed silently at Harold.

He put on a megawatt grin. "Killian, so good to have you here."

I could play this game right back. "Good to be here, Harold. Thank you for having me."

"So let's start with an easy one then. What has it been like to have such a successful career?"

I smiled, having come up with this canned answer years ago. "Football is my life, it's what I have wanted ever since I was nine years old. Being able to excel at it, to learn from some of the best players and coaches in the world, it has been indescribable. I am just really lucky I've been able to stay in the game as long as I have."

"Any thought when you might retire?"

"Oh, Harold, I'm not dead yet. I'm just 30! No, I think I have a few years left in me." Bastard.

"Now let's get to some of the things that people really want to know. Five years ago, you were married. Tell me about that."

My stomach twisted. God rest Eve's soul, but she would want me to be happy. To do this for Leah. "Eve and I met and it was love at first sight. She was the kind of woman every single person loved. Funny, vivacious, beautiful, smart. We had a great life together. And then things weren't so great, and I won't go in to why because I choose to respect her memory. But she decided to end her life, as many of you know."

He put on a thoughtful face. "And how did that affect you?"

God I hated interviews. "It was hard, the most unimaginable thing that could ever happen to someone. I loved my wife so completely, and when she was gone it was like she ripped my soul in half and took a part of me with her. It was made even harder by all of the false and negative stories that circulated. It’s why I retreated into myself."

I wasn’t going to talk about the baby. What had happened, what we lost, that was between Eve and I. No one had the right to know about our tragedy, to fakely mourn or grieve over the thing that had almost killed me. And actually killed her.

Harold folded his hands in his laps. "You're saying that's why your personal life became such a mystery?"

"Yes. If I couldn't control the story, I didn't even want to try. The things they said about me and my wife, they were abominable. Horrendous. I didn't want to let anyone close enough for anything like that to happen again."

"Until recently that is." He didn't ask a question, just stared, expecting me to open up about Leah. That's fine, old man, that's what I came here to do.

"Right. As most of the country, and the world, knows, I met someone."

"Tell us a little about Leah Watson."

I paused, wanting to gather my thoughts."Leah is...incredible. Special. Smart. Sassy. And obviously she's beautiful, everyone knows that. But Leah is just so different. She's an amazing publicist, she really has a knack for people and how to get them to be their best self. She's also hilarious with this sort of American charm that us Brits just don't have."

"And you had a relationship with her? Other than your working one?"

"Yes. Leah and I were exclusive, dating, boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever title you want to slap on it. We kept our relationship professional when it needed to be, but for the first time since Eve died, I had found someone who lit up my life like it hadn't been in years. I wasn't letting a silly little issue like working together get in the way of that."

"You said were. Were dating, were exclusive."

I sighed and dropped my head. "Well, yes. After those pictures leaked from Italy, which was a huge invasion of privacy for us both, I had a bit of a meltdown. I wasn't ready to come out to the public with what we had, because of how negatively that impacted Eve and everything after her death. I didn't want that for Leah ever. I was scared and it was selfish on my part, but I couldn’t risk it.”

"But you were in love with her?" Harold leaned forward in his seat, anticipating me not answering the question.

"Yes. I still am. I love her very much. And even though she might hate my guts, I had to admit to everyone who has been so up front with their opinions about her and our relationship. We are just two people who fell in love, who were looking for that one person who could be our forever mate. And we found each other."

I think at that point Harold knew the interview was done, so he signed off with his usual parting and the cameras shut down.

"Thanks for coming today Killian. Sincerely, I've always admired your career. I wish you all the best.” Harold stuck out his hand.

I shook it. "Thank you for letting me tell our story."

And now it was time to go get that forever mate.

Jimmy came to hand me the small suitcase I'd brought. "Time for you to get on a plane."

“
H
ave you called him
?”

Jaycee stared at me, turning over to tan her back. I’d always been envious of the way her skin turned a buttery brown in the summer. Mine just turned an awful shade of red and then transformed into a blanket of freckles.

“No.”

I flopped the sun hat in my face, trying to ignore her question.

“And why not? A sex-on-a-stick athlete with a voice that melts my ovaries professed his undying love for you on international television and you haven’t reached out?”

I sighed, wishing I could forget all about Killian’s interview a day ago. “No.”

“Come on, Watsy, you are going to have to give me more than that.”

She threw a bottle of suntan lotion at my head, narrowly missing my temple and instead sending it flying across my backyard. Soaking up the rays and talking some serious gossip was a favored past time for us, but today I really didn’t feel like participating. Especially since that gossip was about me.

“Jayc, it’s after the fact. He did it because he was backed into a corner. And it also did fabulous things for his image. I taught him well.”

I scowled, thinking about how well I’d done my job.

“I don’t think he had to do it at all. Killian did exactly what you’d always wanted. Legitimized your relationship.”

“That wasn’t what I wanted. I never asked him to claim me or flaunt me around in the press. I wanted to know his true feelings. For him not to hide me, to just not give a crap what other people thought.”

“Isn’t that what he did?”

I froze, because this voice was not Jaycee’s. I felt the wind whip at my side from Jaycee snapping up, her back straight as a board in the lounge chair.

“No fucking way…”

I was scared to look. Scared to breathe. I knew he was in the same space as me, the same country. He was standing in my childhood backyard.

Slowly I sat up, shading my face with my hat. Only after taking a deep breath and adjusting my body so that it was prepared for the blowback of what I was about to view did I remove it.

Killian.

The sight of him alone sucked the oxygen out of my lungs, leaving me in a perpetual state of gasping. Not that I’d forgotten how handsome, gorgeous, sexy, rugged and dapper he was. I had just avoided looking at pictures of him since I’d gotten home almost a month ago. And here he was, in person. If I’d only seen an image of him, I’d have probably felt dizzy. But here was the real live person, standing mere feet away.

It felt like the earth had divided on a fault line and was about to swallow me whole.

“Leah…” He looked pained, ecstatic and apologetic all at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” My tone was harsher than I’d meant it, but a part of me was happy about that.

“I had to come. I had to see you. I’m so sorry I stayed away…I’m sorry for everything. Did you…did you see the interview?” He shuffled his feet nervously, and that was one thing I’d never seen Killian be. Nervous.

“She saw it.” Jaycee stood, stealing the cards I wasn’t about to show him. She picked up her towel and turned to me. “I’m going home. Call me later.”

That little brat. She knew she was leaving me alone with him.

As she passed Killian I saw her feel his bicep and he cringed. “Sorry I had to. Don’t worry, I’m not after you. You’re just too pretty not to touch.”

I snorted, because Jaycee was just too Jaycee at this moment.

Killian moved closer to me and I swear a tidal wave of sex and heat took me under. Even if I hated him, which let’s be honest I really didn’t, I couldn’t help my mouth watering and the wetness that suddenly coated my bikini bottoms.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, standing above me.

I fought the urge to launch myself at him. “Killian, you had time to miss me while I was in London for two weeks and you were gallivanting around with lanky brunettes.”

Okay, so that pretty much gave him all of my cards, but I had more anger in me than I’d thought.

“Baby…I’m—“

“I’m not your baby. Not anymore Killian.”

His face fell. “I love you. I went on bloody TV and told the world I love you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Hearing him say those words to my face felt like a punch to the gut and a warm balm on my heart. He threw his hands up, the petulant child coming out once more.

“Killian, I never wanted that. I never wanted some grand gesture or to parade what we had around. I just wanted you to be secure enough with me and us that you didn’t care about the media. That you didn’t care about going out in public and holding my hand, or that you didn’t care when stupid pictures of us sharing an intimate moment got leaked.”

He burst then. “I KNOW! I KNOW! And I’m so bloody sorry. Jesus, Leah, you have no idea how sorry I am. I was fucking scared, alright? I was scared! With everything that happened with Eve and then with us. You and Taylor and the whole kit chaser thing, and then Judarski. I was spooked out of my bloody mind! But I’m not anymore. I love you. You were right, I am a coward and a small, small man. But you make me better. You are the greatest thing this world has ever blessed me with, and I’m a bloody fool for ever letting you walk out.”

I could feel the tears coming down now, fast and salty and scalding. Killian bent down, scooting towards my lounger on his knees. I turned my face, tried to rub the wetness from my cheeks by shrugging into my shoulder.

“Hey,” he grabbed my chin, brought it around so that we were looking each other in the eye. God how I’d missed those glacier blue pools. “I am so sorry. So bloody sorry. But I want to spend the rest of my god damn life making it up to you. I’ll always be apologizing, what with my stubborn ways. And you’ll be whipping my ass into shape. But I’ll do anything. Anything, Leah. I’ll bloody move here and play in the MLS. Which I’ll have you know is a joke, but I’d do it for you. I’m smart enough to know that nothing worth doing comes safe or easy. There will always be an obstacle, and sometimes we’ll get penalties or be thrown out of the game. But I love you. And I know you love me too.”

I let out a choked sob before his mouth came down over mine, and I couldn’t help but capitulate under his perfect lips. Killian went at my mouth like he’d been stranded on an island for years and I was the ship that had come to rescue him. We melted into each other, his taste, smell and feel so much like home that I could feel the tears mixing between our passionate embrace.

“Leah…” Someone clearing their voice in the background shook me out of my Killian coma.

I snapped my head away from his, glancing towards the sliding glass doors where my mom stood with her hands on her hips, a half embarrassed smile on her lips.

“I think we’d all like to meet Killian.”

I smiled sheepishly while Killian rubbed his hand up the back of his neck. Grabbing my cover up and throwing it over my body, I hoped my mother couldn’t see my nipples, hard as diamonds, poking through my bikini top.

We walked back into the house, the fact that Killian was here, in Oklahoma, still very much surreal. He was so out of place. With his European swagger, polished looks and heart melting accent, I’d never pictured him anywhere else but the poshest streets of London. Even his wardrobe stood out. He had on tailored jeans and a simple t-shirt that probably cost about $200, with brown leather loafers that I knew for a fact were sent personally to him by a designer.

Compared to my family, who were all in similar states of summer undress, the heat being almost unbearable today, he looked like royalty.

My father was awkwardly trying to appear stern but amiably at the same time, not knowing what to do about me bringing home a man that was mentally closer to his age then my own. Mom was clucking around the kitchen, asking Killian if he wanted something to eat or drink. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that he probably would throw up if she fed him sweet tea and fried chicken. My sisters just stood off to the side, trying not to gawk at the incredible hunk who’d landed in our kitchen. Hell, I pretty much tried not to gawk too.

This is how it went the entire day. My family awkwardly trying to relate to my non-boyfriend who’d flown to the States to try and win me back. And Killian being just as awkward. I knew it had been awhile since he’d had a family to be around, but it was amusing watching him try to act respectful and offer to help with things like cooking and cleaning.

After dinner, a taco surprise casserole, Killian and I had offered to do the dishes. I knew it was his ploy to get alone time with me, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t really know how I felt yet. So many emotions had registered in my brain and heart today; Sadness, anger, excitement, hope, lust, need. And love. Love had been the overlying winner.

“Thank you for trying today.” I didn’t look at him as I pulled a soapy wet plate from the sink and handed it to him to dry.

“I’d do anything for you, I meant it.”

His simple answer caused my heart to catch fever. “I meant with my family. I know this bonding, familial stuff isn’t easy for you.”

“I’m not an alien, Leah. I know how to be social, I just don’t like it all the time. But your family is great, I get it now. Why you are the way you are, why you don’t fully understand me. You grew up with all of this.” He waved a bowl around in his hand.

“Yeah, taco casserole and all. Now you know why I escaped to London for a bit too.”

He smirked. “Yeah, that was a bit hard to stomach for this Londoner. But seriously, I am glad I came. Even if it ends up that you don’t feel the same way I do, it was worth it to see your face.”

I set down the sponge and rinsed my hands, turning to him. “I’m glad you came too Killian. And of course I feel the same way. There was never any doubt that I love you. I just don’t know if I can trust you. What you said to me…on that day I left your apartment…”

I broke off, trying to control the lump in my throat threatening to turn me into a sobbing mess.

He grabbed my hands. “Baby I know. I am an asshole, really bloody unworthy of you if you ask me. But it doesn’t mean I won’t try. I have to, because without you it doesn’t mean nowt.”

His accent, the way his voice inflected, got me square in the center of my chest. “Well we couldn’t have your life not mean nowt, now could we?”

The blue of his irises sparkled. “Does that mean?”

I pushed up on my toes and dusted my lips over his. “I love you, Killian. Let’s give it some time, see how things go. When are you going back?”

“I’m only going back if you’re coming with me. I told you, Leah, I’ll do anything. I’m too old to be wonky about what I want. I want you. So I’m not going anywhere, not without you.”