The Playbook (8 page)

I fall into bed just after midnight, exhausted and barely able to keep my eyes open. All I can think about is “The Playbook” and how hard it’s taken off. Hell, I heard Jimmy Stanza, one of the kings of talk show TV mention my blog today. He offered me an exclusive if I ever wanted to reveal myself. I have to say, it’s tempting…

Not yet. I’m so used to being the girl who nobody really sees that the thought of being the centre of attention kind of terrifies me. What if I can’t handle the pressure that would come with that kind of exposure?

No. For now I’m happy hiding behind my computer screen. The only stories I want to be associated with at the moment are those about bedpans and walking frames.

Chapter Ten

Jake    

My alarm abruptly wakes me up, mid wet dream. I roll over, running my hands through my hair. Suddenly there is a hand on my thigh and it makes me jump. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t dreaming. I throw back the covers and grin at the blonde who has her mouth around my cock.  

I don’t even have time to prepare myself. I’m hard as fuck and about to explode in her mouth. Groaning, I grab a handful of her hair and ram myself as far down her throat as I can. Her blue eyes widen as she takes me in, almost choking as I come.

“What a nice way to wake up,” I mumble. I throw the sheets back, hoping she’s not expecting me to reciprocate. Not when I have training to get to. I grab my clothes, not paying attention to her, hoping she will take the hint and leave. She doesn’t. Instead, she rolls over and smiles at me.

“So, what have you got planned later?” she asks. “Maybe we can do dinner? Or there is a new movie I’ve been dying to see.”

Oh shit, here we go again. “Not sure what my plans are, but they’re unlikely to involve you,” I begin awkwardly. Her eyes widen and she pulls the covers over herself. That came out a little harsher than I intended. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” she mutters. She sits up and turns away from me. I sigh. I don’t have time for this crap. I grab my jacket and leave.

This is exactly why I’m not interested in a relationship. Commitment just isn’t for me.  

Walking into the locker room the sound of laughter fills my ears. I stiffen, sure that it’s about me. One look at Murray’s face and I know I’m right.  

“Morning, Jake; perfect timing. We’re just lining up your first date.”

“My what?” I ask, not sure I heard right. Since when does Murray do matchmaking?

“Right; you don’t know yet,” he says, as if he forgot. “Your punishment for losing the bet? I get to send you on five dates. Trust me when I say I’m putting lots of effort in to find you the perfect woman.”

I bet you are. I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “That’s the best you could come up with? Sending me out on a few harmless dates?”

Murray stands up and gestures for me to sit down in front of the laptop. Rolling my eyes, I comply and sit down.  

“Uniquewomen.com—I bet that’s not as fun as it sounds,” I mumble to myself. Murray and Dean stand behind me, leaning in to see the screen. I click on the first profile. A woman named Marsha—though the term woman I’m not sure is accurate. Russian hammer thrower would give a better description. I narrow my eyes to study her, pretty sure she’s sporting a beard.

“Don’t worry, Marsha didn’t make the cut. We’ve found some much better ladies for you to wine and dine,” Dean assures me. I glare at him. What happened to him being on my side?  

“Oh come on, Jake, its only five dates, and Dean and I have spent a lot of time making sure we have picked you the five best girls on this dating site.”  

“Yeah, I’m sure they are real corkers, Murray, but I’m not doing it,” I retort, my voice laced with anger.

“A bet’s a bet, Jake,” Murray reiterates. He straightens up as I push the chair back and turn to face them. “You don’t want to be known as a sore loser, do you?”  

“It was never a bet that I was going to win,” I growl, not taking my eyes off him. “That doesn’t make me a sore loser; it makes you a cheat.”  

“Well, in life you have to take gambles, nothing is guaranteed,” Dean smirks. “But if you’re too much of a pussy to go on a few measly dates—”  

“Fine whatever—” I cut in. I’m so done with this fucking club. I may as well just suck it up and get it over with. I stomp in the direction of the exit, wishing the year was over already. At least then I’d get a few months off to drink. As I near the door, I raise my middle finger behind me.

“Bring it on fuckers,” I shout.

The next few training sessions come and go without much drama, and it feels like I’m finally settling in. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not exactly the fucking Brady bunch, but I guess a toleration has formed. I’m also beginning to think they’ve given up on their stupid bet. Until today.  

As soon as I walk onto the field, I hear the snickering. Something tells me today’s not going to be a good day.  

“Jake, how do you feel about Rhonda?” Dean asks, barely containing his laughter.  

“If I knew who she was, I would be able to tell you,” I say, my voice flat.

“She’s your number one, Jakey.” Murray grins, rubbing his jaw. “Remember, treat her mean to keep her keen.”   

“Come on guys, hustle. Now is not the time for matchmaking. All of you wankers give me twenty laps now!” the coach barks at us from the sidelines. Murray and I glare at each other for a few seconds until he breaks the silence.

“Too bad. I guess I’ll have to let you know all the details later. I know the excitement must be killing you.” He pats me on the back and jogs off to start his laps.  

“Asshole,” I mumble to myself. I bend over to tie my laces before I run off to join the others.  

After training, I quickly shower. Wearing only a towel wrapped around my waist, I head to my locker. I’m almost there when a laptop is thrust in my face. A picture on the laptop displays a large, frumpy looking girl, complete with dark frizzy hair and glasses. She smiles into the camera as she’s surrounded by a small army of cats.

“Jake, meet Rhonda. Isn't she lovely?” Murray asks smugly. I roll my eyes and continue getting dressed.

“Yeah, she looks like a real catch. I hope you’re very happy with her, Murray.” I know where this is heading, but I refuse to make a big deal of it. The more I act up, the more he wins.

“Oh no, Jakey boy. This is who you’re meeting tonight—at eight pm. She will have a red rose with her. It’s a bit cliché, I know, but I thought you would like the added touch.”

“Well, unlucky, because I already have plans tonight,” I respond. Plans to get wasted with Asher and pick up some easy pussy to take home with me for a midnight snack.  

“You’re right. You do have plans. With Rhonda. If you ever want to play another game this year, that is.” His lips spread into a smirk as he realizes he has me. So long as he’s my captain, I’m fighting a losing a battle.

“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Shall I say hello to her from you? I assume you’re related. She kind of looks like you.”  

“No, and no need. I’ll be able to tell her myself as I heckle you from the bar,” he says, closing the already small gap between us.

I let out a laugh. “Seriously, Murray, get any closer and people will think it’s
you
who wants to go on a date with me,” I say, which earns me a chuckle from the guys. Murray turns around and glares at them and the laughter stops instantly.

“Maybe you should worry less about me and more about your perfect reputation. I’ll see you tonight, sunshine. Don’t be late,” he sings, his eyes gleaming.

When I reach the bar just before eight, the whole team are already there. A cheer erupts as I walk in and I cringe. It would actually feel pretty good if I knew it wasn’t to take the piss out of me.  

I spot Rhonda right away. Mainly, because she’s hard to miss; but just in case I had any doubt, the red rose sitting on the table is a giveaway.

I reluctantly smile and walk slowly towards her.
Dinner, then I’m out of here.
Murray didn’t say anything about a time minimum.  My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast.

“Hey toots, how’s it going?” I figure that my usual cocky attitude should get me through this. Hell, it might make her leave so I can eat in peace.  

Her eyes widen as if she can’t believe I’m her date. “
You’re
Jake?” she breathes, blushing like a little schoolgirl. I slide into the seat opposite her and nod, helping myself to some of the bread that sits in the middle of the table. “So, you liked my profile?” she asks, beaming from ear to ear?  

I glance over her shoulder towards the team. They all start gesturing something about blow jobs. I nearly gesture back to them, but stop myself just in time.

“It’s not that strange, is it?” she asks, taking a sip of her Diet Coke.  

“No, course not,” I assure her, having no idea what she is talking about. “In fact, I’d like to hear more about it. But shall we order first?”  

I signal the waitress over to take our orders and she is hot, with a skirt barely covering her arse, and a white shirt that I would love to rip clean off her. My cock hardens as I imagine fucking her right on this table. I snort. Yeah, Rhonda would love that.

“I will have the steak,” I decide, barely even looking at the menu. “Rare. And baked potato and a green salad, please. No dressing.”  

“Yes, Mr. Tanner, will there be anything else?” She raises an eyebrow. She’s obviously hot for me, and I love that she knows who I am, but I’m stuck talking to Rhonda about God knows what.  

“
I’ll
have the double cheeseburger and fries with a side of onion rings, please. And another Diet Coke,” Rhonda says, too engrossed in the menu to notice that I can’t take my eyes off the waitress as she walks away.
Man, look at that arse!

I turn back to Rhonda, who is staring at me, a defeated expression on her face. Aw, shit. My conscience kicks in and I start to feel guilty about this whole thing. She legitimately thinks I’m into her; poor girl. I can get that waitress in bed any night—maybe even later tonight, but for the next few hours it’s going to be all about Rhonda. I have to look at this as doing my bit for the girls who would never have a chance with a guy like me. And I honestly don’t mean that to sound horrible. I genuinely want her to take away good memories from tonight.

“Great to see a woman who isn’t afraid to eat,” I say, complimenting her. “Most chicks are afraid to eat in public, in case they seem human.” The type of girls I date, at least. I’m genuinely impressed, but, at the same time, I can't help thinking it wouldn't hurt her to eat a salad.  

“Yeah, I enjoy my food,” she says blushing. I chuckle.
I can tell.

“So, what were you saying?” I ask. The more she talks, the less effort for me. I can eat my dinner, make some excuse about my sick rabbit, and then leave. Laughter echoes across the room, coming from the bar. I scowl at the guys, who enthusiastically wave back.
Cocksuckers!

“I was telling you about my cats. Do you like cats?”

“No, but I love pussy,” I joke. Rhonda stares at me, clearly mortified by my comment. “Sorry. Yeah, cats are okay. They taste especially nice with barbeque sauce.”
Oh God
. It’s like I can’t stop myself. 

“That’s not funny,” she frowns. “Not liking cats is kind of a deal breaker for me, since I have five of them.” She sighs, and I swear I see tears in her eyes.
What’s wrong with this chick
? 

I can’t help myself and zone out as the waitress walks past again. She drops her notebook, then glances back at me before bending over to get it, giving me a great view of her black lace panties. For fuck’s sake, this is torture. I glance back at Murray, wondering if this is part of my punishment too.

Come on Jake, pull yourself together.

I turn back to Rhonda and force myself to listen as she rambles on. She’s still talking about her cats. The way her face lights up, she really seems to care about them.

“I’ve never met a girl who loves her pussy so much,” I mutter. She glares at me again and I chuckle.

“Well, I mean, what's not to like?” she asks, ignoring my poke. “They’re so loving and gentle. Well apart from Mr. Snickers. He’s anything but gentle. But I still love him. They all came into my life when I was going through a difficult patch. Like Fluffy, she was a stray that turned up at my house after my mum died. I got home from her funeral and she was just sat there on my doorstep and refused to move. It’s like she knew I was in pain and wanted to help me. So I took her in. She’s slept on my pillow next to me ever since. I tell her everything, and sometimes she even talks back.” She takes a deep breath, pulling a tissue from her bag. “I don’t usually tell people about my gift this early,” she says, laughing nervously. Out of nowhere, she lets out a low wail and starts crying into her tissue.

“Uh, are you okay?” I ask, not exactly sure what’s going on. She’s actually pretty sweet—albeit a little loopy. I feel bad that I’m messing with her because it sounds like she’s been through a lot.

“I’m fine,” she replies, looking down at her plate. “I just need to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back in a minute.” She gets up and turns to the direction of Murray and his little gang of clones, just in time to see them simulating doggie style on each other. Blushing, she glances back at me, then runs for the bathroom. Fuck. Standing up, I head straight for Murray, annoyed that she had to see that. My fist comes out of nowhere and hits him square on his nose. He’s floored instantly and screaming abuse at me.

“What the fuck,” he growls, through his hands which are covering his bleeding nose. He rolls around on the floor in what I hope is sheer agony. The other guys all stand there, shocked at what's just happened.  

“You guys all need to piss off,” I growl. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to that poor girl? She saw your stupid childish gestures and is probably in the bathroom crying her little heart out. It’s one thing to make me do this, but it’s not fair on her to make her look like a fucking joke.”