Because once other people knew, it wasn’t really yours anymore.
Particularly for a footballer.
My private life was available for public consumption. It came with the gig. Normally I didn’t care. Normally I let it roll off my back.
With Morgan, I didn’t want to do that.
I wasn’t willing to slice up pieces of her yet. If this thing between us lasted more than a fuck or two, eventually we’d be found out. For now it could be a secret.
“I just want to stay in the city. Go to a museum or something,” I evaded with a laugh. My teammates wouldn’t believe it, but they got the hint I wasn’t giving them what they were looking for.
Mario clasped my shoulder and gave me a stern look. “Be good, buddy. I don’t want to read about you in the papers. Jack won’t be happy.”
“He’s not happy anyway,” I snorted but when Mario remained serious I nodded. “I promise. I’m not going to embarrass Jack or the team.”
It irritated me that had to even be said. That my life had become such that people had to question what I was up to or what I was doing.
But I only had myself to blame.
“I’d better get out of here,” I said, grabbing my kit and heading for the door. I was antsy. The adrenaline that had gotten me through the match was still coursing through my system.
“I expect all the dirty details when you get back to Chester,” Alan called out as I left the dressing room.
I responded with a crude gesture and made my way to the car I had booked to take me to the hotel.
I sent Morgan a quick text.
I’m on my way.
There were fans still milling around outside the stadium.
“Lucas! Oh my god, it’s Lucas Bradley!”
Security kept them back. There was a family with a young boy towards the front. He held up a replica of my number 10 shirt.
I could see the black car waiting for me but first I jogged over to the people waiting patiently to see the players they had travelled so far to support.
“Do you want me to sign that?” I asked the boy, pulling out a sharpie I kept in my bag for such a reason.
“Really?” the boy squeaked, his face tinged pink with excitement.
“Sure.” I took the shirt and signed my name across the front. “Let’s take a picture too,” I said.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Bradley. He’s been a fan of yours since your Guildford days,” the boy’s dad enthused.
“You guys are the reason we’re doing so well,” I told him, putting my arm around the boy’s scrawny shoulders and smiling as the man took a picture with his phone.
“Thank you, Lucas Bradley! Thank you so much!” the boy exclaimed. It made me laugh the way he used my full name.
“It’s just Lucas.” I patted his shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Uh. It’s…uh…my name’s Ray,” he stuttered.
“Nice to meet you, Ray.” I shook his dad’s hand and then turned to the other fans that were waiting.
Twenty minutes later I was in the back of the cab and headed towards Morgan.
“IWAS BEGINNINGto think I was being stood up again,” Morgan chuckled a little nervously when she answered the hotel room door.
