Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) Page 21

  Lucas sat down on a stool in front of me for the swab. So accessible, sigh.

  “Thanks for last night and being good to my brother,” I said.

  He shrugged it off.

  “Okay, noted, you can’t take a compliment.”

  He scoffed. “I get nothing but compliments around the clock, I’m drowning in compliments.”

  “Yeah for things that you know you excel at—soccer, team work, looking good. You can’t take compliments for the things that you feel expose you, vulnerably,” I said. I meant to be thanking him and I was pissing him off. “Thank you, Lucas. It means a lot to me that you spent time with my brother.”

  He went to shrug again and stopped himself.

  “My pleasure,” he said. “When is he going home?”

  “After the game,” I answered.

  Lucas nodded. “He’s a nice kid.”

  “Yeah, I hope he stays that way,” I said, worried, given Zach was at an impressionable age.

  “Have you signed that new contract yet?” Lucas asked.

  “Open,” I directed him before answering.

  He opened up and I stuck the swab in his mouth. He looked away. I rubbed it over the inside of his cheek and tongue.

  He wasn’t glaring at me this morning or punishing me for swabbing him. The first time I swabbed him he didn’t look at me either—he looked embarrassed or uncomfortable. What was going on? Why did he look kind of mortified? It’s not like we haven’t done this before.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled it and the swab out of his mouth. He licked his lips.

  “What’s wrong? Sorry, did I make you gag?” I asked and stepped back.

  He swallowed. “I don’t want you swabbing me anymore.”

  Ah, here it came. I thought I had been having a dream run but no, time for the push-pull again. He got too close to us last night. Now Lucas had to re-establish that he was boss and I was lucky to be here. I stood staring at him with the swab in my hand.

  “Fine, Lucas.” I sighed. “But if I don’t swab you then there’s not much left in my job description is there? And I have to do this one today. You can get the doc to do the next one until you find my replacement.” I was too tired of the ups-and-downs and too angry to be teary or upset, I just wanted to ram the swab somewhere unpleasant on Lucas Ainswright’s body and get out.

  “I need to finish.” I glared at him.

  “Do it,” he muttered and opened his mouth again.

  I swabbed him without making eye contact and he did his old trick of glaring at me and watching my every moment. Maybe being cranky when I did it helped him to take control of the situation. When I finished, I put the swab in the plastic cylinder and turned to go.

  Lucas grabbed my arm and pulled me between his legs. He cleared his throat.

  “Please Lucas, let me go. You’ve made your point.”

  “Mia, you’ve got it all wrong.”

  His phone began to ring.

  “Fuck, ignore it,” he swore. He glanced at the name. “Damn, it’s the coach, I’ll have to take it.”

  I pushed away from his legs. “I’ve got to test this,” I muttered.

  “You’ll be there? In the same seat?” he asked, his finger suspended on the answer button.

  “Of course,” I snapped. “We don’t want any disruptions to Team Lucas.” I headed downstairs to process the swab. I heard him answering the phone.

  Fuck Lucas Ainswright. He was not going to ruin my day with my brother, I so rarely saw him and we were going to have a great day. Zach would never guess this was my last day on the job.

  *****

  I heard Lucas leave not long after the phone call. He stuck his head into my pad first, said he’d see us at the game, and I answered without looking at him. I felt as if he had opened my chest with a can opener and my heart was bleeding for all to see. Gross, I just grossed myself out with that image.

  “I’m sorry I have to be there so early... it will be boring for you,” I apologized to Zach. “You’ll have to kill about ninety minutes before the game.”

  “Sis, chill,” my brother said to me as I packed our gear to take to the game. “I’ll wander around, check out the stands, the fans, whatever.”

  “You’ll be in your seat by eleven though? I can’t come looking for you.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I nodded. Then I forced myself to cheer up because I was spending time with my brother and I wanted this to be a brilliant memory for him.

  When we got to the ground, I slipped him twenty dollars to get a bite and went to the physio room. I did my usual duties of filling the physio bags and then Andy got me working on Harry’s calf muscle. I saw Lucas come in, felt his glare since I was touching one of the players, and totally ignored him. I could feel him and smell him but I didn’t look at him, not once, and when he left the physio room I drew a breath and felt the rush of pain that came with it.

  I went out before eleven and found Zach playing handball with a couple of other kids he’d met. Zach always fitted in easily.

  “Got to go guys,” he said, gave them a wave and came with me. I introduced my cute little brother around and everyone said we looked alike. Yeah, he’s cute all right. Then the match began. I sat in the allotted seat and refused to make eye contact with the Saints as they ran past in their warm up. Jane behind me squeezed my shoulder and leaned forward.

  “He looked up here again for you,” she said. “I’m picturing those oysters at Misty’s.”

  “Might be quicker to just pick up a dozen on your way home,” I teased her without letting on that at this point and time I was over Lucas Ainswright, or was trying to be over him. Sigh.

  The game was tough, and I could look at Lucas now without him knowing I was looking at him. The Saints were so equally matched by their rivals, the Roar, that if I had any fingernails left, they would have been bitten down. It was a great game for the fans though and Zach was loving it. It was down to the wire and I and the WAGs were holding our breath. It’s the difference between a good night or a bad night at home afterwards—even worse for the partners than the minder, I thought, reminding myself of my status.

  With only one minute of play left, the score was one-all and we needed a goal to bring this home. That’s when Lucas did his thing; the last kick of the game, Lucas with an unstoppable thirty yard kick swept the ball past the goalkeeper and into the net. The roar of the crowd must have been heard across town and then the siren went and we won, the Saints won! Zach and I jumped up with everyone else and hugged and cheered. I was overwhelmed with pain that this was going to be my last game, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t meant to be forever. Kind of like Julia Roberts being thrown out of the penthouse in Pretty Woman, except she got the fairy tale in the end.

  The players were shaking hands and Lucas was doing a media interview. He kept glancing my way and I kept trying to pretend I hadn’t seen him. Players were signing autographs around the ground. Lucas ran over towards us and called out Zach’s name. He beckoned him down but Zach couldn’t get close because Lucas was swamped by fans trying to get a photo with him or shake his hand since he had come close to the boundary.

  Zach pushed through, Lucas said something to him, shook a few hands, jumped into a few selfies and ran off. Zach returned to me.

  “What did he want?” I asked my grinning brother.

  “He said if I could wait for him he’d drive me home in the Lamborghini. He said you could bring me down to the rooms if you had to go.”

  I smiled at my brother, so happy to see him so happy. “Sure,” I agreed. If his parting present to me was to drive thirty minutes each way to take my brother home, fine. Then I realized why. He was giving me time to get my stuff before he came home in an hour’s time. The thought pierced me like a knife.

  “Can we go?” Zach asked.

  I nodded and grabbed my jacket. I flashed our passes to get into the VIP areas and seeing Andy walking past, attached
Zach to him to go into the clubrooms.

  “Thanks, sis, it’s been brilliant,” he said, still grinning.

  “Pleasure. Will you text me to tell me you’re home safely?”

  “Will do,” he said.

  I gave my brother a quick hug. “Love you.” I released him and let him go. I watched him walk off with Andy. He was cute, and I suspected he’d be breaking a few hearts of his own soon.

  I got out quickly before I ran into any of the WAGs and had to keep up a front. I was too exhausted, too flat to carry it off. I waved to Jack at the security gate as I pulled my BMW out of the VIP parking lot and headed back to the posh loft to pack.

  On the way I passed a huge billboard featuring Lucas Ainswright wearing Bastion menswear—a tailored black suit, crisp open white shirt and polished black dress shoes—the very suit he came home in on my first day at the pad. I was dying here.

  Chapter 40

  I opened the door to my beach pad after riding the high of a brilliant game. Imagine what a high it would be if shared, if I was his and Lucas was mine. He was the hero—I was surprised he offered to drive Zach home given the team would be heading out to celebrate. I hoped he did take him straight home. I began to worry, thinking of the team celebrations. Then again, maybe he had so little fatherly interest in his own life he thought he could give something back to Zach. That’s nice for an emotionally-devoid, self-centered ass—okay, I was still angry.

  I thought of calling Alice but I was too depressed to talk to anyone. I had at least ninety minutes before Lucas would return by the time he iced, heard the coach’s wrap up and did the one hour return trip to drop Zach home. Maybe he would drop Zach off, go straight out and not come home until the early hours with a prize model in tow.

  I decided I had time to run a bath, soak for thirty minutes or so in the dreamy bathroom, then get my stuff and go. I sprinkled some bath salts in the tub, ran the steamy water and fetched a glass of wine. I knew in time that I would be really glad for this experience but right now, I wished I had never had it. I wished I had never met Lucas Ainswright.

  *****

  I stayed in for close to forty minutes, I could have stayed longer but I was conscious of the time. I got out of the warm, relaxing waters and changed into a light knit, pale blue button up top which I’d bought only a week ago, with loose drawstring cream pants. I loved being comfortable more than I loved white chocolate, and that’s saying something.

  Then I heard a noise; my heart stopped—it was the Lamborghini pulling into the driveway and I wanted to be gone before Lucas arrived home. I combed my hair out, put the last of my shoes in my bag and zipped it up, placing it next to the packed suitcase. Good thing I travelled light.

  Lucas opened the front door and called my name. I came to our adjoining door and looked down the hallway at him.

  “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you back yet. Thanks for taking Zach home.” As soon as I said it, I heard the text on my phone. Zach must have just remembered to text me that he was home safely. Thanks for the heads-up, bro.

  “No problem,” Lucas said. “I think he enjoyed it... something to tell the kids about at school.” He entered with a slight limp.

  “What’s going on?” I stepped towards him and nodded towards his leg.

  “Just stiffness.” He frowned. He walked towards my door, testing his leg. I turned to go back to my room where he stood now, blocking the door. We were done here. I wasn’t going to say anything, I was talked out. Sarah was right about the push-pull—only this time the push away had worked. I planned to leave the keys to the pad and the BMW on the counter. He’d find them next morning when he came looking.

  “Well goodnight,” I said, “congrats and thanks again for looking out for Zach.”

  Lucas didn’t move out of the way of the door so I ducked under his arm, like any self-respecting girl would.

  “Um... I know you’re off the clock, but any chance you could have a quick look at my leg for me? It’s giving me a bit of grief,” he said.

  “The limp?” I asked.

  “Yeah, feels like the pain is in the knee,” he said.

  Selfish twat, I thought. Sure, I can’t take a swab but I’m okay to look at your knee now that you need me. Still, this was no laughing matter; the man was worth a fortune and an injury was costly, mentally and physically.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Want to come in here?” I asked, given it was closer.

  He shook his head. “I’d rather be comfortable in case I have to ice it and not move,” he said. “Come up?”

  “Okay. Give me a few minutes.”

  He nodded. “I’ll have a quick hot shower and see if the heat loosens the muscle cramp,” he said. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

  I watched him go up the stairs because even though he was a pain in the ass, he had the best ass I’ve ever seen and who would miss that? I thought he got upstairs pretty quickly for someone with a knee problem... although he did have a bit of a limp. Was he faking? No, surely not.

  I used the ten minutes to put my luggage in my VW Golf. It was chilly out but maybe that was because I just stepped out of a hot bath. How I would miss that big bath too. Sigh. Ten minutes were up; I put my keys on the counter and checked each room to make sure I had everything.

  I stood near the entrance and imagined the next hired help walking in and seeing the place the way I did. Someone else would be living in my rooms in no time and I would be another Lucas statistic. I could hear Jase saying, “Yeah we liked Mia,” and Sarah adding, “I thought she might have lasted. She holds the record of nearly four weeks.” Maybe Cam would shake his head and say. “She was a bit too headstrong,” or Jessica would call it like it is; “She had the hots for Lucas, it was never going to work,” and the new person would nod, thinking me weak and that they’d be the one who would last.

  I closed our adjoining door with one last look back, and headed up the stairs.

  Chapter 41

  “Decent?” I called, as I walked up and arrived at his level.

  “Yeah.” His head appeared out of the bathroom. He wore loose training shorts and a long-sleeved gray cotton top. His eyes looked heavenly blue against the gray and those muscled legs that I was just about to inspect were all man. My heartfelt heavy—why couldn’t he be just Lucas and not super star, super aloof Lucas?

  “Thanks for this,” he said.

  “Sure. You’re not going out?”

  “No, the party will go on without me.”

  In other words he’s got someone coming around, I thought.

  How is your leg, better or worse post-shower?” I asked.

  “Stiff. Can you take a look?”

  “Yep,” I said, indicating the couch. Lucas hobbled into the bedroom and lay on the main bed. I followed him in there and gave him a wry look.

  “What? It’s more comfortable here.”

  “Lie on your stomach,” I ordered. I lowered myself onto his king-size bed with the red satin sheets—what a cliché, not to mention the mirrors covering one complete wall. I sat cross-legged beside him. I tried to remember all these moments, knowing they would be something to store, something other people would never have and I wouldn’t have again.

  I touched his left leg below the knee and Lucas tensed. I worked the area. He was right, it was tight but probably no more than most of the players after running around an oval for more than ninety minutes kicking a ball. He lay with his face half buried in the pillow as I tried to loosen the muscle. He groaned a few times.

  After working the area for a short while, I stopped to assess it.

  “How’s it feeling?” I asked.

  He raised his leg and bent his knee, then rolled on his side and looked at me. “Better, thanks. Handy to have a live-in physio,” he said.

  “You’re a lucky guy,” I agreed. “You better try for a physio with your next minder.”

  He frowned and raised himself on his elbows.

  “Why?�
�

  I frowned at him. “Well I’m packed and ready to go. My gear is in the VW and the keys to the house and Beamer are on the kitchen bench in the guest wing.”

  He scurried up to a sitting position.

  “Why? What’s happened?” He looked genuinely alarmed.

  “Lucas, I know you took a bump to the head during the match but you do remember you asked me to leave don’t you?”

  “No. I never asked you to leave.”

  “Oh good God.” I uncrossed my legs, crawled to the edge of the bed and began to climb off. Lucas with his long legs was quicker.

  “Wait, wait, Mia, hold up.” He got round the side of the bed before I got off, sat me back down and squatted in front of me. It was so sexy. There’s something about a large man crouching beside you and looking you in the eye, protective almost. “What’s going on here?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  I turned my eyes to his. He was genuinely confused.

  “Lucas, this morning you told me you didn’t want me to swab you anymore. That I wasn’t to continue.”

  Lucas frowned and shrugged. “That’s right. I don’t like you doing it. It’s...” he looked uncomfortable, “I don’t like you doing it... I feel like a dick.”

  “Well there you go. I packed up so you can give the room and car to the next person.”

  Lucas groaned and dropped his head on the bed. He got up, sat beside me and turned to face me.

  “Mia, look at me.”

  I turned side-on.

  He licked his lower lip.

  “I’m taking a gamble here because you’re so fucking hard to read and you might sue me for crossing the employer-employee line but... I don’t want you to swab me because I don’t want you to see me like that anymore—like some fucking wasted druggie who can’t control his habits. I don’t do that shit anymore, I’m clean and I agreed to the swabs to keep the club and management happy. I don’t want you seeing that as who I am. Get it?”