Page 39 of The Game

"Jesus, Lyssa, you don't have to pull that face! Don't you get bored of hanging around these boys all the time, talking cricket?"

My nose wrinkled. "Not really, cricket is my life."

"Yeah, I get that was the case when you used to play, but now your life has changed." Her eyes flickered, and I knew she knew about my brother and the accident that had changed everything. "You need to start living the life you have now. Get a babysitter and come out. Find a guy to snog and shag, I don't know. Have fun."

"Fun?" The word sounded more alien than it should.

Scrunching her hair into a messy bun that gave me major hair envy she walked over and clapped me on the shoulder. "Yes, fun. It's that thing where we laugh, be a bit silly and act our ages and not like we are fifty-year-old women." She gave me a wave as she went out to join the troupe for their practice. We weren't the only ones who had to practice hard. The other team’s cheerleading was almost on the verge of stealing the Red Cats thunder. To the point that it was under much discussion if the girls should just wear nipple tassels and hot pants to create attention. That idea had been shot down after the Fredericks incident. I blocked the thought of Fredericks from my mind, unprofessionalism wasn't something I took lightly.

As I walked out in my minimised training kit, I brushed past the Lion's back, and his shoulders stiffened with my touch. His eyes widened as he took in my cleavage and bare shoulders. "That's not your training kit," he leant in and whispered.

"It's too hot for the polo shirt," I whispered back.

"Sweat then. I got you that so you wouldn't be a distraction for the players."

I turned on my heel and threw my hands up at my side. "Bite me, Willis."

I was sure a low growl emitted from his throat, and I allowed my smile to widen until it was a taunting grin. "Ready to play some ball?"

I didn't quite catch it, but I was sure I heard him curse under his breath as he turned away.

It was Friday when the Lancashire Lion revealed his true colours.

I wiped at the sweat on my forehead as I sat next to Waller watching the game. The Sussex Stallions had won the toss and chosen to bat first. They'd then hit more sixes that I would have thought possible. Six ...yep there it goes...six...there goes another one. It was an onslaught, and out on the field our boys wilted. The Lion’s bowling was looser, tighter, and the improvement after his games at mine, and the match on Sunday, along with the extra Pilates I'd made him do despite the flurry of swear words that had landed on my ears during the practice, had helped.

But even he couldn't reign in their number six. The guy was on fire. Waller leant towards me. "Why the hell isn't this guy on our team?" he muttered under his breath.

I shrugged. "I don't even know who he is. Anyway, don't look at me, you're the hirer and firer around here."

"I want that guy." Waller stabbed his finger into the air.

"Buy him then next season if that's what you need," I said.

Waller turned to me, removing his eyes from the fearless batting of the number six. "Everything okay with you?"

"Sure?" A frown flickered across my face. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He shook his head like it was no big deal. "I just know you are under some pressure, personally..." He trailed off.

Patting my hand on his knee, I smiled. "It's okay. I haven't heard anything yet, I've got a stable job, and thanks to my squeaky clean image, I'm considered an upstanding member of the community."

Waller nodded. "Keep it that way. You've done well to avoid the journalists so far, but remember as the season progresses, so will the interest." He groaned as another six flew over the boundary line. "And if we keep playing this shit!" he shouted the word loud enough that the two nearest fielders could hear. "If we keep playing this shit, then the press will be descending like locusts looking for a story to run alongside our paltry season."

I knew this from old. If the game was off, then it was considered there was a reason, and the garbage divers came out in full force.

We settled back and watched the game go from bad to worse. And when I say worse what I mean is that the Lion got caught out on his third ball with only two runs under his belt. A flutter of silence echoed around the shocked stadium, and then he erupted.

Stalking from the field, he threw his bat, launching it like a samurai sword, which bounced off the dry ground and smashed into the stomach of a female security woman. A gasp resounded as the moment was caught on the big screen. Maybe if he'd stopped to apologise, to check she was okay, it might have been different. But, instead he marched off the field, slamming his way into the changing room, his foul language easily heard by the group of schoolchildren in the lower stands on a school trip.

I went to jump up to check the woman was okay, but she was already being attended to by pitch side paramedics. "Stay where you are," Waller hissed under his breath as I fidgeted in my seat. Should I go after him? I should do something, right? "I'm going to have his head after this."

"Let me talk to him," I was almost pleading.

Waller's face was set. "No, he's under a good behaviour contract. He made promises when he signed on the dotted line that he would uphold the team's behavioural image. That's not behaving."

I groaned. "No, but it's only because he wants the team to win." Cricket really was everything to him that much was obvious. "That's a good thing, right?"

Waller looked at me in disbelief, and even I had to wonder at what I was saying. I mean the guy had just thrown a cricket bat at a woman. Could I even defend that? No, of course, I couldn't.