“I heard you, babe, but… he’s like a mystery man. Are you sure it’s not someone pretending to be him?” Gully reached out and tipped my chin up with his finger.
“It’s him.”
His mouth remained open while James barked an order at us to start the scene.
Gully eventually closed it. “You know, there’s not many men I’d rather be, but he’s definitely one,” was his final statement on it for now.
Somehow we got through the scenes in just under three hours, managing one of the more intimate ones in one take. James was pleased, I was pleased and Gully was made up, mainly because we’d finished early and he was now done for a couple of days so he could go off and meet up with Jenna.
I had another scene to film, with a couple of hours of hanging around while more of the story was put onto film, so I spent them wisely.
Information finding on the internet was something I could be a master of, when I was motivated, and I was motivated now I knew who Ryan actually was, not that I could find much.
His life was lived as quietly as possible. There were a few rumours about who he’d dated but any photos of him I could find had him on his own, no one on his arm. There were rumours about women he might be dating, but no one was ever mentioned a second time.
Other than for a few well-chosen modelling campaigns, Ryan kept out of the spotlight. Which meant finding out who I was probably wasn’t something he’d been hoping for.
I’d met a couple of footballers before, both pretty full of themselves. One had come onto me, totally expected me to be all over the fact he’d scored a goal that weekend, and I should be in awe of his dick. That hadn’t ended well for him. His dick had ended up very wet, and it hadn’t had anything to do with me being turned on. I did apologise to the bartender though, when he had to get a mop out.
Ryan wouldn’t want a girlfriend whose love life was regularly the source of speculation, which suited me fine. At the moment, I wasn’t girlfriend material. I couldn’t commit to being in the same city for more than two consecutive weekends, let alone being around for key events.
Hooking up would suit me. Hopefully it was all he was interested in: a bit of sneaking around, booking hotel rooms under fake names and late night booty calls, if we were close enough.
Maybe I was being a fool telling myself this was all I wanted, but right now, I truly believed it was.
CHAPTER9
Ryan
“If you didthe stretches I told you to do, you wouldn’t feel like this now.” Amber Ward dug an elbow into Rowan’s back, her expression grim.
It softened slightly into a triumphantly satisfied smile when he yelped like a small child.
Rowan was a fucker for stretching everywhere bar his shoulders after training, which meant his shoulders were now too tight for him to put his hands over his head and straighten them.
Amber was one of the team’s physios and she could be brutal. Her view of football players was that we were paid enough to be tough rather than mardy-arsed toddlers, which was one of her favourite ways to describe us when we whinged about being in pain.
“I’ll do the stretches.” It was a beg rather than a statement from Ro.
Amber shook her head. “You said that last time, so I don’t believe you.”
“Promise.” Rowan sounded breathless, as if he was taking gulps of oxygen before the pain started again.
I was pretty sure Amber had added a blade to her elbows with the noise that Rowan emitted when she started again.
Nate folded his arms and leaned forward, a towel draped over his shoulders. He’d just finished from a round of physio with The Count, another member of the physio team, and so-called because he sounded just like The Count from Sesame Street. No one actually knew what his real name was; it had been forgotten over the course of time, and he’d never bothered to correct anyone.
“I think you could sell tickets to this, Amber.”
I’d noticed his eyes were on her rather than watching Rowan for his expressions of pain.
“I might start selling them. Haven’t you two got anything better to do that sit here and watch your teammate?” Fiery eyes flicked towards us.
“I’m waiting for The Count.” I nodded towards the bed that was being set up for me. I generally didn’t need much more than normal in the way of physio, because unlike Rowan, I did stretch and I didn’t spend my life on the squat rack in the gym.
Amber’s gaze landed on Nate. “What’s your excuse?”
“Watching my mate endure torture.”
