He knew this wasn’t just about missing a massage. Ryan was perceptive, surprisingly so for someone who kept himself to himself most of the time.
I shook my head. There was no point lying to him, and he kind of knew already that I had a thing for her. “I went there, didn’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Amber. I went there with her.”
He sat down on the bench next to me. “You slept with Amber?”
I nodded. “We weren’t drunk. It was during the day–”
“In her treatment room?”
I laughed, knowing he’d just been on that table.
“Yep. Don’t tell anyone, Ry. She could lose her job.” I gave him a look that I hoped got through his thick skull not to say anything.
“Not going to say a word. When was this?”
“Monday. I went to see her because I was tight after the game.” He didn’t need to know any details or exactly when it had been, or that it had been several times. Because that made me look even more of a shit.
He frowned at me. “Had there been something going on with you before then?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “We talk. I suppose there was a bit of a thing between us. Massages from her weren’t like ones from someone else, put it that way.”
“Ask her out.” He made it sound so simple, and it was. There was nothing to restrict players and the club’s staff from dating.
I shook my head because there wasn’t any point. “She really isn’t interested in kids. I know that from ages ago – when Chan was pregnant with Zara, Amber mentioned how she never saw herself with children, so there’s no point in us going out because it wouldn’t lead anywhere. I’m a package deal.”
“You don’t have to go out with her thinking it’s going to be a long term thing. Just have some fun.”
His words were pointless, because I wasn’t the casual type. Never had been, apart from before Chan when I’d just started earning big bucks and choosing a woman to spend the night with was like picking chocolates from a box. That phase had lasted for about two months until I picked up a stalker-type and had a come-to-Jesus moment where I realised that this was only going to end one way.
“You and I both know that’s not going to happen.” At least I didn’t think it could. Not right now.
“Have you spoken to her since then?”
“Avoided her like the plague.”
“Nice move, keeper.” He kicked out at my shin. “That’s dickish.”
“I know. I’ll go and see her. The longer I leave it, the worse it’s going to get.” I stood up.
“Good plan. Just maybe shower first.”
I nodded, launching the towel into a nearby laundry bin that someone had the sense to scatter about the gym floor, meaning Jude never had an excuse for leaving his sweaty towels lying about.
Jude was in the changing rooms, his air pods stuffed in his ears and singing loudly enough to make someone put in a complaint for noise pollution. The boy was not talented with vocals, but clearly he didn’t care, because he couldn’t actually hear himself.
I lost my work out gear, chucking it into my kit bag to wash it at home, and grabbed a quick shower. Amber was known to have a sharp tongue for anyone who turned up on her table not fresh, unless it was an emergency. I couldn’t argue with that – footballers could be pretty disgusting straight after training and there were one or two in our squad whose personal hygiene was questionable.
Fresh and smelling better than I had, I knocked on her treatment room door, bracing myself for an ear bashing. My guess was that she’d said something to Ryan, wondering what she’d done wrong, which was nothing.
This was on me.
“Come in.”
I opened the door and stood in the doorway, trying to read her expression. “I’ve come to grovel.”
