Page 48 of The Game

Then it rang again.

Slopping water all over the bathroom floor, I reached for it.

Willis.

My stomach lurched into a tight ball.

He was probably drunk and ringing to tell me to get off his team. I pressed decline, but before I could get back in the bath, it rang again.

Trying not to drop the handset as I stepped out of the bath I clicked on the green button. "What?" I snapped.

"Lyssi?" he sounded far away, music was pounding in the background and cheers were drowning out whatever he was saying to me down the line.

"I can't hear you; call me tomorrow if you want." I wasn't sure I wanted him too but I said it all the same.

"No," his word was barked out and caught my attention. "Can you come and get me? I need help."

"What? Where are you?"

When he told me, I groaned. "Are you for real?"

He didn't answer my question but instead asked if I could help. I blew out a gust of air.

The Lancashire Lion would be the end of me, I just knew it.

"You stink." I glared at him as he fell into the car and lamely attempted to pull the seat belt across his chest. It pinged back and forth repeatedly as he fumbled with the buckle. He looked like a man I didn't know in a black shirt and jeans, with tan leather boots. He smelt of alcohol and cheap perfume.

Whose perfume, I didn't want to know.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be," I fired straight back. "I've driven for forty minutes into the centre of London for you." I jabbed my finger into his chest.

His head rolled against the headrest. "Can we just go home?"

"I don't know where you live."

Opening one eye he blinked at me. "Not my home, yours."

And then he fell asleep, and I cruised the car through the dark streets of London back to the leafy green of Surrey, cursing the whole damn way there.

He slept the whole way, snoring like a locomotive. It wasn't the most attractive thing he'd ever done.

"Oi," I shouted, loud enough my lungs hurt. "We’re home."

He sat up with a start. "Where's Sammy?"

"What?" I twisted in my seat taking in the confused expression slashed across his face.

"Where's Sammy?"

"Well he's not here, is he? He's at his grandparents. Did you think I was going to get him out of bed to come and get you? Why would you think that?"

His fingers grabbed for mine. "I'm sorry."

Holy crap did the Lion just tell me he was sorry? He must be drunk.

"Come on, let's get you a coffee and I'll call you a cab."