Michelle Betham - Extra Time

Ryan Fisher was twenty-seven years old, tall, dark and indecently handsome, in a rough-and-ready sort of way. With his multitude of tattoos adorning both highly-toned arms, and most of his back, constant stubble that sometimes materialised into a beard when he was feeling particularly lazy, unruly, dark brown, messed-up hair and a smile that seemed to give him the ability to attract any girl he wanted, he was the kind of man that a lot of women fantasised over. A bad boy, a troublemaker, that was Ryan Fisher. Or, at least, it had been.

A highly talented, ridiculously well-paid professional footballer with Newcastle Red Star – one of the biggest and most successful teams in the top flight of the English game, and current league champions – Ryan was lusted after by a never-ending succession of wannabe WAGs, and envied by those men who would do anything to have his life, to be who he was. But Ryan’s life hadn’t always been perfect; it still wasn’t. It probably never would be. But the outside world didn’t need to know that. His past had had enough of an airing over the last few months. It was time to leave all that crap behind him now and concentrate on the forthcoming season; it was time to show them all that Ryan Fisher was back, bigger and better than he’d ever been.

‘So?’ Gary persisted, standing up and pushing his chair back under the table.

‘So, what?’ Ryan sighed, following suit.

‘You’re telling me you’re really over her now? Amber, I mean.’

‘Yeah, I know who you mean, thanks, Gary.’

‘And it can’t be easy at the minute, can it? Having her around all the time.’

‘She isn’t around all the time , Gary,’ Ryan said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his combat pants.

‘Yeah, but she’s here , isn’t she?’ Gary went on, obviously not taking the hint to drop a subject that Ryan really didn’t want to talk about. ‘In fact, she’s right here. Look.’

Ryan turned his head slightly as Gary nudged him, catching sight of Amber as she walked into the breakfast room, all flowing dark red hair and tanned skin, her incredible long legs shown off to perfection in a short white dress and wedge-heeled sandals. Amber Allen. Beautiful, crazy, ice-queen Amber Allen. Or, at least, she’d been a bit of an ice-queen when he’d first met her a year ago, on his return to the North East of England. Back then he’d been Red Star’s multi-million-pound new signing, their star striker, and she’d been Amber Sullivan, a beautiful, feisty sports reporter with too much attitude and a smile that had floored him the minute he’d set eyes on her.

But their first meeting hadn’t exactly been all sweetness and light. Far from it. There’d been no flirting, no secret smiles or furtive touches. They’d practically hated each other on sight, even though he’d known he wanted to fuck her the second she’d walked into the room. But that was Ryan Fisher. He was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, and Amber Sullivan – as she’d been back then – had proved to be a challenge he hadn’t been able to ignore. He’d almost won, too. Almost. He’d fallen in love, for the first time in his life. Once he’d thawed the ice-queen, knocked down those barriers she’d built around herself, the ones that had stopped her from finding the love she really deserved to find, he’d honestly thought his life had changed for the better. He’d thought he could finally put his playboy past behind him and settle down. But he hadn’t banked on her past catching up with her. And he certainly hadn’t banked on that past being his boss. Jim Allen was a hurdle he just couldn’t get over, and he’d let that get to him, just a little too much – with almost career-ending consequences. But he’d fought back; he’d come through it all, everything that had happened. He’d come through it all. But nobody had promised him it would be easy from now on. Ryan had loved Amber. He’d loved her, simple as that, and even he wasn’t deluded enough to think that that was going to change any time soon, even if she was now Amber Allen, wife of one of the most successful football managers ever to grace the Premier League. She was his boss’s wife. And he just had to deal with that. Somehow.

‘She’s looking good,’ Gary whistled as Amber bent down to pick up something she’d pulled from her pocket and promptly dropped on the floor. Ryan continued to watch her as she slowly stood back up, laughing at something Jim whispered to her on his arrival by her side, his arm snaking around her hips in a protective, almost proprietorial manner. Ryan felt his heart shudder in his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from a scene he didn’t really want to witness. His ex-fiancée and her new husband – his manager – acting all loved-up right there in front of him, even if they had no idea he was watching. He didn’t think they cared, anyway. It had been like that for the past couple of days, ever since they’d all arrived here in Tenerife for the last leg of their pre-season tour. So far all they’d done was chill out and relax before they played their match against one of the island’s local teams tomorrow evening. But relaxing had been difficult for Ryan. He couldn’t ignore Amber and Jim, couldn’t ignore their stolen kisses and not-so-subtle attempts at touching each other when they thought nobody else was watching. And Amber had looked so hot as she lay round the pool in a tiny black bikini – no wonder their boss couldn’t keep his hands off her. After all, Ryan knew exactly what Jim was getting once he got his new wife back inside the privacy of their hotel room. That thought alone depressed him more than anything, despite the fact he had a beautiful woman of his own back in Newcastle, just waiting for him to come home. It was nothing serious, of course, because Ryan didn’t do serious, not anymore. He’d tried it once and look what had happened. But he had someone there if he needed her. And he did need her, or he needed a distraction, anyway, and Ellen was proving to be just that – a beautiful distraction. A role she was rapidly making her own.

‘You okay, mate?’ Gary asked, squeezing Ryan’s shoulder.

Ryan nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Amber. Although he hadn’t missed Jim’s hand slipping down onto her perfect backside, giving it a sly squeeze. Shit! He’d been such a fucking idiot to let her go.

‘You never stood a chance, Ryan,’ Gary said, as if reading his mind. ‘Not with the past those two had.’

‘Yeah,’ Ryan sighed, following Gary out of the room, a headache starting to form right behind his eyes that he could well do without, especially with a training session in 30 degree heat looming. ‘So everyone keeps telling me.’

Amber swung the car into a parking bay and quickly jumped out, recoiling slightly as the midday heat almost knocked her backwards. Twenty minutes in a lovely, cool, air-conditioned car made you forget how incredibly hot it was outside.

Sliding her sunglasses down over her eyes, she walked quickly out of the car park, almost jogging across the small road that led onto the busy coach park at Reina Sofia Airport as she made her way towards the arrivals entrance.

Walking into the busy airport, she pushed her sunglasses back up onto her head and stood still for a second, breathing a sigh of relief. She was just glad to be out of the heat for a little while. It was so hot on the island right now, so stifling, that any shade or escape was welcome, no matter how brief.

Looking up at the huge screens that hung from the ceiling, she scanned the list of arrivals to see if Ronnie’s plane had landed on time. It had. Five minutes early, to be precise, so she quickly headed over to the arrivals gate, joining a handful of other people who were waiting for friends/relatives/clients to arrive on this beautiful Spanish island.