I had always been an arsehole. But I was less of an arsehole now than I was a couple of years ago. The woman in front of me was a testament to the bell end I used to be.
The truth was we had fucked.
One drunken night just after I had signed on with Chester we had found ourselves alone. She and Craig weren’t married yet. They were only dating, but they were still together. The truth was I hadn’t given a toss. She was fit. I was drunk. So we screwed. It was a descent enough shag. Nothing to write home about, but I got my rocks off and I was pretty sure she had enjoyed herself.
After it was all over, I wished I could take it back. I felt like a complete shit. Craig was my teammate and Marla was his woman. I had walked over that unspoken line. I made it clear that it was a mistake. Marla agreed. Or so I had thought.
She married Craig, I moved on to my next screw. That was that.
But obviously to Marla it was more than that.
I thought her endless flirting was just her being a tease. It was common knowledge I wasn’t the only man she had been with since being with Craig. Even though I knew she wanted a return trip on the cockwagon, I didn’t think she was all that serious.
Maybe I was wrong.
Marla’s face clouded over and she stood up straight, her shoulders back, pushing her enormous tits out.
“It’s not messed up. It’s the truth. You know it as well as I do.” Marla made a move to touch me again but I evaded her.
The door to the dressing room opened behind her and I waved to the person who came out.
“Hiya, Craig. Your wife was out here bitching about how long you were taking,” I called out.
Marla’s expression registered shock at the appearance of her husband, but she recovered quickly. She turned on her heel and launched herself into her husband’s arms. They kissed like they were rehearsing for their own private porno. You’d never know that thirty seconds before she had been telling me how much she wanted me.
I cleared my throat and Craig broke the lip lock.
“You sure you don’t want to come by later, mate? It would mean a lot,” Craig asked, wiping bright red lipstick off his chin.
“Come on, we don’t bite,” Marla cajoled. It was as though she were goading me. I looked around one last time. Looking for Morgan.
But she had definitely stood me up.
Fuck her.
“Yeah, mate. I’ll come for a bit.”
Craig grinned and Marla gave me a smile that was too sexy for my liking. “That’s great,” my teammate enthused.
Sure. Just great.
“CANIGETyou a beer?” Marla asked once I had arrived at their house a few hours later.
“Sure. Sounds great,” I replied, wishing I had gone anywhere else but here.
The house was full of the familiar faces. Most of the guys on the team were there as well as a bunch of Marla’s friends, most of which had slept with at least one of the footballers in the room.
I saw one or two I had shagged, usually when drunk. Then there was Marla.
“Head on outside, Craig’s out there with a bunch of the others.”
“Yeah, okay—”
Marla curled her hand around my wrist. Her nails were bright red and long. They looked like talons. Her fingers were heavy with rings, including the three carrot diamond engagement ring that cost more than most cars.
“I’m glad you decided to come tonight. It means a lot.” I kept my expression purposefully neutral.
“I’m here to hang out with Craig,” I said pointedly. After everything she said this afternoon, I felt it important to make that abundantly clear.
