Michelle Betham - Striker

‘Hey, come on.’ He gently took her hand, swinging her back round to face him. ‘What’s up with you, huh? You’ve been tense all night. Is there something you want to tell me?’

‘Like what?’ she asked, her skin prickling as Jim Allen walked back into the Cooper Suite, looking every inch the charismatic character he’d become. Amber found it hard to believe he didn’t have some glamorous model or stunning pop star by his side. Past history showed that was the type he went for. The type he’d brushed her aside for.

Ryan narrowed his eyes as he caught the look she gave his manager. ‘Has something happened between you and the boss?’

Amber swung round to look at him, hoping to God that her expression gave nothing away. Ryan finding out about her teenage affair with his new manager would just put a lid on this crappy night. ‘No. No, of course not. Why – why would you ask that?’

‘He’s a family friend, isn’t he?’

Amber quickly ordered herself a large brandy, immediately taking a long sip, not looking at Ryan when she spoke. ‘Yeah. So?’

Ryan shrugged. ‘Nothing. But… the way you looked at him just then… it was a bit weird, that’s all. Maybe there’s a bit of history there, I don’t know…’

‘For fuck’s sake, Ryan, I’m just tired, alright? I’ve got people on my back because of who you are and what we’re doing, and technically I’ve been working since 7.30 this morning, so I’m just tired. Okay? Nothing else.’

Ryan held up his hands in surrender, smiling at her in the vain hope that it might calm her down. Having said that, though, she did look more than a little bit sexy when she was in a mood. And that could be beneficial when they got back to his apartment. Sometimes angry sex could be the biggest kick ever. ‘Okay, okay. I get it. Do you think sex’ll help sort you out?’

She looked at him, and she couldn’t help laughing, the effect of the brandy and his cocky sense of humour going a long way towards helping her relax. And forget. ‘Shit, Ryan. You have no idea how much I need you right now.’

‘ Right now?’ he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She finished the last of her brandy and slipped her arms around his waist, kissing him quickly. ‘Well, as much as that might get you more headline space, and I know how much you adore the publicity, no. Not right now. But, if you’re willing to finish that drink as quickly as is humanly possible…’

He put his half-finished pint down on the bar and pulled her closer, tilting her chin up and kissing her back, a kiss so different to Jim’s, but a kiss she could quite easily get used to. ‘I’m done.’

She smiled, gently stroking the rough beard that covered his strong jawline with her fingertips. ‘And those are two words I don’t want to hear from you again for a good few hours, you got that?’

He smiled, too, his hand sliding down onto her backside as he kissed her again, the feel of her breasts pushing against him enough to make him realise they were finished here. It was time to go home. ‘I got it.’

‘Good,’ she whispered, playing with the collar of his jacket. ‘Then let’s get out of here.’

‘I can’t believe you kept that a secret from us!’ Tracy mock-scolded before Amber had even had a chance to get through the revolving door of the News North East entrance. ‘You and Ryan Fisher! How did you manage to keep that one quiet? I’d have been shouting it from the rooftops if it was me.’

‘I didn’t keep anything a secret, Tracy,’ Amber said, loosening the coat she had wrapped tight around her. Autumn had well and truly hit the North East now and it was freezing outside. ‘I just didn’t choose to make it public knowledge, because we’re not exactly Brad and Angelina.’

‘Posh and Becks then?’ Tracy smiled.

Amber couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Not even close,’ she laughed.

‘Well, you might not think you’re news, but it seems the press have other ideas,’ Tracy said, holding up a copy of a well-known tabloid newspaper. Emblazoned across the front page was a picture of Amber and Ryan, hand-in-hand, leaving an Indian restaurant in Newcastle. Amber sighed, rolling her eyes. She really wasn’t dealing with the sudden publicity her relationship with Ryan had caused. She never had been one to revel in any kind of limelight; she hated being the centre of attention in any situation, and the fact she hadn’t even realised that people would be interested in her relationship with this young, famous footballer just proved that she really was still painfully naive. ‘You’re the newest WAG on the block now,’ Tracy grinned as Amber took the paper from her. The picture of her clinging onto Ryan’s hand, leaning into him as they walked, made her cringe slightly. She had her head down, thankfully, but he was looking straight into the camera, a slight smile on his face. He loved all that shit, but it was very much a downside for Amber.

‘Looks like we won’t even be able to nip out for a curry in peace now, then,’ she sighed, handing the newspaper back to Tracy.

‘So, come on,’ Tracy said, unable to hide the eagerness in her voice. ‘What’s he like?’

Amber looked at the pretty receptionist through slightly narrowed eyes. ‘He’s a bloke, Tracy. That’s all he is. He just happens to be a bloke who’s very good at football.’

‘How can you say that?’ Tracy gasped, placing a hand over her chest, her eyes wide with shock. ‘Ryan Fisher is probably the most gorgeous footballer out there right now.’ She returned to a somewhat more composed position behind her desk. ‘Mind you, a few of my friends think that Jim Allen is a bit of alright, too. For an older man. I certainly wouldn’t say no. Who knew football could be so sexy, huh?’

Just the mention of Jim’s name made Amber’s skin prickle and she stepped away from the desk, picking up her bag.

‘Personally, either of them would do me,’ Tracy went on, sorting through a pile of mail on her desk. ‘Your dad used to play alongside Jim Allen at Newcastle Red Star, didn’t he?’

‘Briefly, yes. Look, Tracy, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got quite a bit to get through this morning if I want to make it to the match this afternoon.’

‘Feel free to pop down for a coffee later,’ Tracy smiled, looking up as Amber made her way towards the lift. ‘Y’know, if there’s any more gossip you want to share.’

Amber gave Tracy a small smile back before disappearing into the lift. With the doors safely closed, she leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. She really wished she’d been more prepared for the publicity being involved with Ryan Fisher was creating. She could kick herself for being so stupid. Had she really thought that people would just shrug their shoulders and let them get on with things? Talk about burying your head in the sand! But, and this was the biggest surprise, she was really growing to like Ryan. Despite his reputation. Despite the age gap. Despite the fact she still couldn’t trust him 100%. But then, could he really trust her ? Now that Jim Allen was back in her life, could she really trust her self ?

Since the night of the charity dinner at the Tynebridge Stadium, Amber had tried her hardest to avoid bumping into Jim again, and thanks to a run of away matches she’d succeeded. Of course, the double-edged sword there was that Ryan had been away from home, too, and she’d found herself missing him. More than she’d thought she would. Oh, she wasn’t talking love’s young dream or anything like that. She wasn’t pining for him or sitting there night after night scribbling his name down on pieces of paper and imagining what it would be like to be Mrs. Ryan Fisher. Far from it. They weren’t joined at the hip or desperate to be around each other twenty-four hours a day. All it had been so far was a lovely few weeks of fun, which suited Amber just fine. And she was sure it suited Ryan just fine, too. But it did feel good knowing someone was there if she needed them. It felt good being able to let go and enjoy herself. It felt good to have that physical relationship again, and nobody could deny that Ryan Fisher wasn’t a man most women would kill to get into their bed. That in itself brought a slightly smug smile to Amber’s face as she stepped out of the lift and made her way to her desk.