Page 12 of The Game

I was getting out of the car when the phone rang. "Mum?" I answered straight away, getting that familiar prickle along my skin when I saw my parents name flash on screen, ringing at an 'out of time' hour, which this was.

"Yes?"

"Mum, what are you calling for, is Dad okay?"

Mum never rang in the morning. Hardly ever. Only when there was bad news.

"He's fine. We are at the airport."

My hand was on the door to the headquarters, but I froze. "What airport? Where are you going?"

"We are coming to see you. It's your big game tomorrow, isn't it? Your dad wants to watch."

I was mortified to find tears prickling along my lashes. I blinked them away furiously before a member of the press could spot them and splash them on a back page announcing that 'The Sexist Pig beats Alyssa Rivers’. Because that's what they would write, there was little doubt. They were gagging for the story to break. I could sense it bubbling under the surface like a burning inferno stoked by newspaper print.

"You don't have to. I'm not even playing you know."

"Has your dad ever missed a first season game?"

"No."

"Well then."

"Okay." A substantial ache dragged on my stomach, pulling it down to my feet. I had an appalling feeling about this.

After hanging up, I went to my room only to find it full of six semi-naked girls. "Hi," I announced with a cheery wave and smile that was sixty-five per cent fake and thirty-five per cent honest relief at seeing some other girls in the vicinity.

"Hi," the cheerleaders called back, their voices chiming in time. They were wearing the same outfit as mine, the only difference being that under my practice kit I'd layered up with some cycle shorts so my arse didn't hang out. Not that there was anything wrong with my arse. I just didn't need the world seeing it.

"Ready for tomorrow?" I asked.

Gemma, their captain, stepped forward. I'd met them a few days before, and if I was honest, I'd been naive as to how the cheerleading sport worked. And sport it was. I'd had no idea that these girls were a dance troupe hired for supporting the Red Cats and paid handsomely for it. My respect for them had only increased since I could see what they did. It wasn't all short skirts and perky tits; it was back breaking bends and flying splits that would cause me a trip to the hospital at the least, at the most an early death. "I think so, how about you?" Gemma replied, twisting her hair into a bun that she stabbed at blindly with bobby pins.

"Meh." There were no other words.

She sat on the bench and lifted one tanned, endlessly long leg to do up her trainer. "Has Bailey asked you out again?"

"No," I found myself giggling even though I knew I shouldn't. "I don't think Bailey will ask again, and anyway I’m not interested." I flashed her a grin. "That's the odds stacked against us before we've consumed one drink."

Gemma shook her dark hair, a long ponytail whipped around her neck. "Reckon he might be interested in me then?"

I looked her up and down. "Assuming he's not blind, then yes."

"Nah, get away with yer."

I glanced at the clock and grimaced. "Bugger, I've got to go."

"Go on Lyssa, don't take any shit, especially from that twat." It had taken the cheerleaders approximately two hours after their arrival to work out that Jase Willis was a prat. And that's one of the reasons I liked them so much.

"Sure thing? See ya later."

She waved me away, as did some of the other girls. I never thought I would be so pleased to see cheerleaders in my life, but hell it was good to have some other women around.

I walked down the corridor and paused outside the guy's room. There was a murmur of voices, and I knew I should make my presence known but I held my fist about an inch from the wood and hesitated as my breath caught in my throat. It was Bailey talking. I'd recognise his voice from a clear hallway. He had a brash northern accent which could take a while to get used to. "You need to let this up. She's doing a good job."

The returning words were a muttered growl. "And you need to stop thinking with your dick. You know you can't fuck her right? She's staff, your boss."

There was a scuffle, and I recognised Anderson and another of the guys raising their voices.