“Did the girls have a good time trick or treating?” Jesse always asked about my daughters. He was great with them, and they loved it when he came over.
“Yeah, they got spoiled. They talked about Chan’s mum, and Libbie said how weird it was without her being there because last year she’d organised this huge party for them, but I don’t think Zara really got why she wasn’t there.” It had been a better day than I’d expected. I’d cooked, with the help of my dad, and my mum and sister had kept the girls entertained. We’d taken the girls out then come home and watched a couple of films. “How was yours?”
“Boring. I hung out with Matty and Nicky. We ate and played computer games. I felt like I was about seventeen and my parents had gone on holiday, and I’d been left home alone.” Jesse shook his head. “I know this time of year is tough for you, man, but at least you have your girls.”
I did, and I’d be forever grateful for them, and for the rest of my family. “You should’ve said. You could’ve all joined us.”
“Thanks. I should’ve, because I’d have been there like a shot.” He ruffled his hair. “What are you doing tonight? Coming out for a few?”
“Maybe. We’re all at that club function tomorrow, aren’t we?” I was pretty sure we had to, including all the office staff. It was being held as a private function at the restaurant of one of the country hotels, the whole place being booked out for us, so no one could take any unwanted photos. I seemed to remember it was one of the owner’s birthdays, although I couldn’t remember which one. Rory was the only one who was active as the chairman, but he co-owned with two others.
“We are. There’s a book being run on how many drinks Jude manages before he spews.” Jesse shook his head. “Boy needs a keeper.”
“Who’s got the book?” I would happily have a bet on that.
“Matty. He’ll be here in five.”
Game days were predictable. We all had our routines and our superstitions. Some of my teammates didn’t talk at all when they got in the changing room, keeping their earbuds in and their focus just on the game. I liked to be there early, as did Jesse, making sure my kit was sorted and I had the right pair of spare goalkeeping gloves. I’d also spend time stretching properly and warming up with my goalkeeping coach before the bulk of the fans got into the ground.
I’d half hoped today that I could grab a massage from Amber before the game. The Count was back, which meant I should go to him, but I’d been craving Amber’s hands on me again since the last time I’d seen her, which now felt too long ago.
We’d texted each other; I’d managed to persuade her to send me a photo of her tits – with her bra on – that I’d jacked off over. I’d debated sending her a dick pic, but I’d never done that in my life and I kind of felt weird about doing it now as a thirty-something. I knew she wasn’t here before the game today, as she’d been on duty for the women’s team who had an early kick-off at City, but she was back for the start of our game.
I went through my pre-game rituals, worked through my mobility exercises and stretched, had ten minutes with my defence to go through game play, and discuss the opposition’s usual tactics.
By three o’clock I was more than ready. Focused. Keen. Determined not to let that ball in the back of my net.
We headed out of the tunnel, the roar of the crowd one of the many reasons why I loved the game. I bounced up and down a few times, applauding the supporters and looking to where my parents were sat with the girls and my sister. They were too distracted with something Zara was doing to notice me looking over, but my attention didn’t linger long on them.
Amber was there, sitting with the other physios and backroom staff who were watching the game, her attention all on me. I wanted to wave at her, or even run back over, but that wasn’t going to happen, so instead I started to move my shoulders in the way that she’d showed me, making a big deal of doing the movements thoroughly. Later, there’d probably be rumours in the media that I was injured, or even one of the TV pundits would speculate that I was playing with an injury. There could even be comments from the opposition that I was injured, with the strikers looking to take advantage of me maybe not being as mobile as normal. That could be useful.
I ran over to my goal, dropping my spare gloves in the corner and jumping up high enough to tap the bar a few times. Amber was still watching, or at least I thought she was.
It was only another reason to have a fucking amazing game.
We won three-one. The goal we conceded was a worldly, and there had been nothing I could do to stop it. Their captain had spotted me off my line – I’d come forward because my team was pushing on, dominating the opposite penalty area.
The opposition intercepted a pass and made the most of it, their right back flicking it to their captain, who turned on a penny and stuck the sweetest shot that sailed straight into the top right-hand corner of my net.
I applauded it. It was one of those goals that would be replayed for the next decade, part sheer skill and part fluke. We’d been in control of the game all the way through, and by this time we were on the eightieth minute and still two goals ahead. I wasn’t panicking.
Ten minutes later and the ref had blown the whistle for full time. Another three points and we were second in the league. I headed over towards where my family was seated, waving at my girls who looked thrilled, even if they didn’t understand what had actually happened beyond that Daddy had won.
Amber wasn’t there, which meant she’d probably been called in to deal with the injury Nicky had gone off with. We’d picked up another couple of niggles but there was enough time before our next match on New Year’s Day to get over them.
The changing room was boisterous. Jude had come out with some pile of shit about tomorrow night and what he was wearing, which meant the piss had been completely ripped out of him by Rowan. Matty had done something to Jesse’s underwear which meant his clothes were now in the shower, and Guy didn’t seem fucked off with any of us, which was a first for the season.
My parents sent me a video of the girls telling me well done, that ended up being passed around the team. Jude made his own video back to them, which I knew would make Libbie’s day, and we got the news that Nicky had pulled his hamstring, and needed a scan, which put a bit of a dampener on things.
I saw Amber briefly as she checked in on Jude and Ryan. She didn’t make eye contact with me, and I knew it was because she was worried someone would suspect something was going on.
So I left it until after most of the team had disappeared, heading off to the bar where we’d agreed to meet for a few drinks and a meal, before I made my way to her treatment room.
It was empty apart from her, and she was bent over her table, sanitising it, her perfect ass on display in those tight yoga pants.
“You have no idea how good that looks.”
She jumped at the sound of my voice.
