Game On (Game On 1)

Warmth began to spread through me as I took in his words. There was never a time when I had believed a person more than that moment.

“I love you too.”

.

Chapter 10: Oh God, Let Me Be Hallucinating

I was getting quite used to my life being an odd mix of spectacular and awkward, and the next week pushed me to my limits. I hesitate to use such a cliché, but I was on cloud nine after Miguel told me he loved me. I spent as much time as I could with him, nursing him back to health with my own special method of ice packs and riding him like a – slightly injured – pony.

Another thing making me happy was seeing Jesse being selected in the starting line-ups, instead of being brought on in the final minutes of a game. With McCoy out, Jesse was given the chance to prove why he was Westberg’s youngest signing and his reputation was growing with every match.

The downside was that Taylor still hadn’t told him about Radleigh. His suspension for attacking Miguel was a great cover story to hide the harassment claims, so Jesse was still completely in the dark. No matter how much I tried to encourage Taylor to tell him, she refused, saying she didn’t want to cause any more trouble. It was a tough situation to be in. The media interest in McCoy made it difficult for her to figure out what to do next. If the story got out, it wouldn’t only mean bad news for him, it would mean Taylor would have to deal with the paparazzi demanding all the details. Nobody needed to be under that kind of scrutiny, especially not an eighteen-year-old girl who’d done nothing wrong.

It was a welcome relief when I flew out of L.A for Boston. After all the stresses of the past few days, and the long flight, I was eager to go to bed but when I arrived at my old flat late that night, Stacey presented me with a glass of wine. It would have been rude not to drink it.

Plus three more.

The next morning I had a long lie-in followed by a lazy breakfast with Stacey, before heading to the mall in search of a new outfit to wear to the party. If I could have got away with it, I’d have worn my super expensive red dress, but a wedding called for something a little more classy. There’s nothing worse than upstaging the bride by accidentally flashing a bum cheek.

After walking around for a few hours, I eventually settled on the very simple royal blue one shoulder dress I’d spotted in the first shop I went in, plus a few pairs of jeans and some strappy sandals.

“Stace!” I called, as I struggled through the front door with my bags, “I think I got carried away!”

Stacey came into the hallway looking a bit nervous. She didn't even give into a smile when she saw all of my shopping, but I was too busy struggling to take much notice.

“No kidding,” she said, helping me regain the use of my hands, and we piled the bags down on the floor. “Leah-”

She didn't get chance to finish her sentence but she didn't need to. As I entered the lounge, I stopped dead and did a double take.

Sitting on the sofa in his usual, rather smug manner, was Radleigh McCoy.

Oh God, please let me be hallucinating.

“Hello Leah.”

About a million thoughts flooded into my head at once and I looked from McCoy to Stacey in utter shock. The first words to tumble out of my mouth were, “How the hell did you find out where I am?”

Radleigh raised an eyebrow. “I know people.”

“Well you should tell them that if I ever find out who they are, their lives will be at serious risk. How long have you been here?”

“About a half hour.”

“I tried to call you,” Stacey jumped in, “but I was redirected to your voicemail.”

“Why did you let him in?” I asked, turning to her. “You should have told him to leave.”

Stacey was an attractive woman, with her blonde hair cut in a sleek bob and her slight figure. I wouldn't have put it past him to make a move on her. Even more worrying than that was his very presence in Boston. After his suspension we’d parted on bad terms, yet he was sitting on Stacey’s sofa as though he didn't have a care in the world.

“I'm sorry. He said he was a friend of yours and, well-” she trailed off, and I could almost hear her thinking, 'It's Radleigh McCoy!'

“It's okay, Stace. It’s not your fault.” Turning back to Radleigh, I said, “You have to go.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“So go home and call me. I don't want you here. For one thing, it is completely inappropriate, and for another, I have nothing to say to you.”

“Leah, I came all the way from L.A. to see you.”