Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) (11 page)

BOOK: Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1)
13.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“You’re looking after Lucas at the moment aren’t you?” she asked as she wrapped a navy and gold scarf around her neck. She explained, “Johan and I think of ourselves as the mama and papa bear of the team, and we’re a tight family. The success and pressure can be tough for the younger recruits so we keep an eye on them. We did with Lucas when he started with us a couple of years ago.”

“Must have been a challenge,” I remarked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, there were quite a few weekends he was in our guest wing and I was making sure he ate properly and didn’t party too hard,” she agreed. “But they are all a bit like that when they start. Johan thought you might be succeeding with Lucas where others have failed. And even though you’re not a WAG, you’re just as important to Lucas.”

I smiled with delight at being considered part of the ‘family’ by Johan and Elizabeth, even if my gig was probably going to be up after the four week trial period.

“You’re very kind,” I told her, “but Lucas reminds me daily how unimportant I am.”

She laughed. “Yes, he’s a naughty boy sometimes. A few of his past minders were very stressed. I sat next to one for a few games last season—an older lady. She was very professional but she couldn’t control him and the more she tried, the more Lucas turned up the obstinacy.”

I studied Elizabeth and thought I would try my luck with a question. “Can I ask you a question? Feel free not to answer if I’m crossing the line...”

“Go ahead,” she invited me.

“When I first met Lucas I thought he was just a privileged spoilt prat to use his British speak, but he told me he had a brother who died and that he doesn’t get on with his father. His father obviously cares about him because he’s paying for me to assist him... but do you know if there is any point in me trying to open Lucas’s mind about his father?”

She gave the question some thought. “I don’t think I would be breaking any secrets to tell you what I know. It wasn’t told to me in confidence but, nevertheless, do keep it to yourself and don’t say I told you,” she said, lowering her voice.

I nodded, keen to get some inside information on the iceberg that was Lucas.

“Lucas was a twin,” she started.

I looked at her with wide-eyed surprise. Imagine two of them!

“Identical twin,” she continued. “Just the two boys. There was an accident, I don’t know the details of that, but the boys were about ten I believe and Lucas’s twin died. I believe after that his mother never really recovered and couldn’t look after Lucas.”

I was hanging on her every word, oblivious to all around me.

Elizabeth continued. “I’ve only heard this second hand of course so Lucas’s version might be completely different, and it’s none of my business either, except that I am here to support the boys as best I can,” she said, “even if that means being a pseudo maternal figure.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Well his father, who pays your salary, was devastated too and couldn’t bear to look at Lucas because the boys were identical. Lucas was shipped off to a boarding school in England and then here in the US from about the age of eleven or twelve. He never went home again. He spent birthdays, Christmas, and other holidays with relatives I believe.”

I exhaled. “Thank you for telling me. I had heard a bit of that from other sources,” I said to Elizabeth. “Of course I won’t mention it but it does go a long way to explaining his anger towards his father.”

A loud horn blasted, startling us both. Then it began, so exciting—the opposition team ran onto the field. The fans rose and roared. Streamers and banners flew in their colors of red, black and white.

“It’s starting!” Alice nudged me. “Go Pez.”

I rolled my eyes; one dance and she was his biggest fan.

Alice laughed.

I couldn’t wait to see Lucas in his element. My breathing was fast and nervous. I reached for Alice’s hand and she pumped mine. I don’t know why I felt responsible for him. He had been such an asshole but I wanted him to do well, really, really well. I’d even live with him being unbearable tonight in return for him having a brilliant game and his first win as captain of the Saints.

The competitors did a lap past us first and a sea of red and white on the other side of the grounds roared in approval. I recognized a few of the players from the karaoke stage at Lucas’s party. Then the biggest roar was held for our team playing on their home ground as they ran out through the corridor or the players’ race as the lads called it, from their rooms to the huge oval beckoning them. The blue, gold and white streamers and banners of the Santa Ana Saints rose like phoenixes from the grandstands.

Lucas led them out; he looked so powerful and amazing. I recognized all the faces and was so excited for them. Harry tried to look calm for his debut but I could tell he was slightly freaking out with the enormity of it. Then Lucas did the sweetest thing; he stopped in front of the banner, called Harry to the front and let him run through first. He was a local lad who had made good and the crowd went wild. Even if the rest of the game went pear shaped for Harry this would be a life memory.

Lucas kicked a ball around, warming up with his team. He issued orders and pepped them up. It was as though the field was his to own and he was completely in charge. Alice squeezed my hand again and I grinned at her. We were here, with the WAGS, knowing all the team. This was the best orgasm I had ever had without sex!

 

*****

 

The whistle blew and the game began. I had to remember to breathe; over ninety minutes without breathing would be fatal. I hadn’t seen many soccer games in my life but it was so exciting. Every time the ball came near Lucas, or Lucas came near it, I held my breath. The crowds stood and roared and I joined in.

The opposition team—the Reds—were good; slick, they knew how to play as a team while Lucas was rallying a team that had a number of new recruits and young bloods coming through. But what they might have lacked in experience together, they made up for in determination. And Lucas led by example. I joined everyone around me and stood up and cheered as Lucas kicked the ball clear of the goalkeeper and straight in to the net for his third goal—a high score by soccer standards and especially playing last year’s premiers.

“Audacious!” A guy two seats in front of me was bellowing and cheering. The team rallied around Lucas and the crowd was going berserk. Take that to all the punters who bet against the Saints! OMG, was I becoming a groupie? I had to remember I’d be returning to a cold front tonight, but still I was relieved for him.

“Hasn’t he got great hands?” I nudged Alice.

She laughed. “Yeah, Mia, great hands and great penetration in the field too.”

I looked at her, surprised.

“What? I heard the guys in front saying that,” she defended herself.

I grinned at her and quickly returned my eyes to Lucas. It was easy to see why he earned the big bucks. Aside from being gorgeous which helped justify all the sponsorship endorsements, that man dominated the field—he earned the tag of one of the world’s best attackers. Lucas had confidence, skill and was so agile. He was all over it—to watch him was such a treat.

We were not in any doubt of winning now; it was going to be a happy night at home. Nik had a brilliant game too. Lucas had said he was one of the best midfielders and he set the midfield on fire during that game. Harry didn’t stand out for his debut, but he had a solid game, one he could be proud of and I saw Lucas encourage him several times during the day. Pez was great too, but I had eyes only for Lucas. Finally, the referee blew his whistle twice to tell everyone it was full-time. We had won.

I didn’t see Lucas that night. Alice and I headed home and I guess he headed out. I steamed some vegetables, flicked around some movies and couldn’t believe my luck—the last hour of
The Notebook
was on.

I cried more than I’ve ever cried before watching it and I knew why.

I cried because I would never have Lucas Ainswright; he was too out of touch with his feelings and could have any beauty in the world and that wasn’t me. I had a sporty figure, not a supermodel figure. I was never going to be his type.

I cried because I was sad that he had a wonderful childhood until the age of ten then lost it all and grew up unloved, shoved into a boarding school and shunted from relative to relative during school breaks.

I cried because this job wouldn’t last forever and once Lucas learned to love and had someone in his life, I wouldn’t be part of it, couldn’t bear to be part of it.

I cried because no matter how much I would try and put him behind me in the future, Lucas would always have a public profile and I would never be able to forget him.

Then I saw his headlights light up the boundaries around my closed curtains. I heard two car doors slam and laughter. Of course he would have company, he was on a winning high, and not long after I heard action from upstairs.

I cried some more.

 

 

Chapter 17

 

 

Two! I counted off the second rise in my five-rises run. I planned out different routes so that I didn’t get bored. They included a park run, oval run, hill run, flat long run and the rises run which consisted of five sizeable rises to keep the heart rate up.

Nearing the top of the rise I heard thudding behind me—another guy who was faster, better, more impressive and wanted to show me, sigh. Men always feel the need to bolt past at a good speed to show off their great prowess... whatever. I heard the footsteps slow down, yep, at least once a week a male also felt the need to stop and introduce himself to me as though I was jogging to score a date. Just running here people!

I glanced right and Lucas pulled up alongside me.

“Nice butt,” he said.

“Ha!” I stopped mid-rise. “Congrats on yesterday’s game, it was brilliant.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, and it seemed genuine. He clipped my hip with his hand—an invitation to keep running—and took off. I kicked back into it, quickening my pace. I was never going to catch him with that long stride but I held my own. He waited when he got over the top and around the curve.

I jogged up beside him.

“We should run together more often,” he said.

I shook my head. “I’d be too slow for you and I only do about five miles a day.”

“Doesn’t matter, I can keep going. Nice legs too, by the way.”

“You noticed hey? Thanks. Yeah I work at keeping it all tight.”

“Achieved,” he said.

I was screaming with joy and would feast on those two compliments for weeks, but I played it cool, of course.

“So, good night?” I asked casually. I couldn’t push out more than a few words at a time when jogging and talking so I kept it to a minimum.

“Yeah, good. Rachel’s a pretty consistent performer too,” he said, smugly.

“Oh, she got a call back.” I used the sporting term and made him smile.

“Very good, Mia.”

I breathed deeply to get a sentence out.

“You know, I’ve been with you two weeks now which means two weeks and one day breaks the record,” I said between breaths.

“You’ve got to last the one day yet,” he said.

I looked over at him and frowned. “What makes you think I won’t? Got something planned?”

He shook his head. “Nope, but it’s only early in the day.”

Sarah’s words pushed through to the front of my mind...
if he feels like he is beginning to trust you, he’ll push you away.
We jogged along in silence. Women ran past us and smiled at Lucas—really he was jogging with another female, could they be more disrespectful? We’re our own worst enemy.

The next rise appeared and I moved ahead of Lucas.

“You want to beat me up this hill?” he challenged.

I shook my head. “I’m not going to beat you, but I’m not following you up either like a groupie. This is my run. You can either wait until I’m up at the top or you can follow my butt.” I took off. I’d rather view his but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

I heard him laugh and pick up the pace. From years of training I was better on the rises than the flat ground and I was lighter and smaller than Lucas. Faster, faster, but I could hear him breathing down my neck.

Take that buddy, I thought. I took off on my toes, light and fast. I reached the top and he hadn’t overtaken me. I raised my hands in the air like Rocky and danced around in a circle. He came past me seconds later.

“With the head start you had you should be home by now,” he said. I think he was teasing but it wasn’t easy to tell with Lucas. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and played along.

“Sure, Lukey. Beaten by a girl. That must sting?” I smirked. I waited to see how Mr. Competitive would take it, expecting a rush of anger, but he let me down.

He shrugged. “I’ve been beaten by girls before. Besides I enjoyed following your butt up the hill. The scenery was most pleasant.”

Again with the compliment, holy cow! That took the wind right out of my sails and my lungs. I walked to the nearby water fountain, getting my breath back, and had a drink.

“It’s not a model butt, though.” I fished for more compliments. “Not the type of butt you’re used to.”

“True,” he agreed. Well that spoiled that, but I did ask for it. Lucas continued. “It’s more of a gym bunny butt; you look kind of like a jogging version of Katy Perry.”

I opened my mouth to have a go at him and realized I didn’t mind that. That was pretty good.

“Okay, thanks,” I said with a half-smile, half-frown. An embarrassing silence followed. Neither of us was used to be being kind to each other. I fixed that.

“I’ve got to do a swab when we get home, that’ll be fun.” I brightened at his misery. How pathetic was I?

“Yeah, that’ll be great,” he agreed.

“You’re doing fine,” I softened. Unlike Lucas I wasn’t capable of being consistently nasty. He let my compliment pass as though it meant nothing to him.

“Two rises to go,” I said, starting up again. He kept pace beside me. A few people recognized him as we ran. Others stared at him as if they should know him but couldn’t place him. I was conscious of not being too slow or breathing too loud so my rhythm was out, but running with Lucas Ainswright next to me was stuffing up my breathing pattern big time. My heart was pounding fast and it wasn’t from the rises. We ran past a couple of young guys who called out to him and he gave them a grin and a wave. At the end of the run we stopped to stretch.

Other books

The Center of the World by Jacqueline Sheehan
Lake Wobegon Days by Garrison Keillor
Salesmen on the Rise by Dragon, Cheryl
AlmostHome by India Masters