The Playbook (5 page)

Chapter Six

Abbey  

"I can't believe someone finally had the balls to call them out on it."

I smile as I listen to Mel chuckle on about The Playbook. She has no idea I'm behind it, and I have no intention of telling her. Especially considering how hard I am on the women that hang off these idiot footballers. Women just like her. Has she even picked up on that? Probably not.

The last forty-eight hours have been crazy.

Everyone is talking about The Playbook and my full frontal photo of Jake Tanner in all his glory. Major newspapers and magazines I’ve only ever dreamed of working at have picked up the story, praising whomever is behind it. I want to shout it from the rooftops and bask in all the glory, but I can’t—not yet. Not until I see how far I can take this.

I could not believe my luck when I opened my email last night and saw that photo of Jake. It was sent in by a woman whose friend had been propositioned by a very inebriated Jake. I have no idea how he ended up naked in that dumpster, but it makes for a hell of a story.

The best part of all this is people are actually reading my blog. My words are influencing people. I can’t express how amazing that feels.

"Seriously, Abs; I wanna kiss whomever it is behind that blog. I mean, did you see that picture of Jake?" Mel sighs. "Speaking of which, did you see how well equipped he is? I have to see that in the flesh."

"Mel," I scold her. Has she learnt nothing?

"What?” she whines. “Come on, Abbey, don’t pretend you haven’t thought about having that slide between your legs. I think the entire female population is thinking it after seeing that photo. Hell, I'm sure I saw my
mum
—"

"Mel!" I yell, squeezing my eyes shut.

“What?” she protests, laughing. “It’s true. The guy has something that would interest many women. I understand all the hype about Jake Tanner now.”

“Yeah, well, so long as someone does,” I mutter. If you ask me, he’s a player, just like every other footballer who thinks he’s God’s gift. I glance back over at Mel’s iPad. I can’t deny he is attractive. And well-equipped. The problem is, he knows it. The other problem is, like most premier league players, he drinks too much, parties too hard, and has zero respect for women. I roll my eyes. I can’t believe I’m even wasting my time thinking about this.

I pull out my phone, keen to check my email to see if there are any more responses. I couldn’t believe it when I checked it this morning and found seven emails from women telling me how much they appreciated both my open letter to Asher and the photo of Jake.

I half listen to Mel as I log into my email. My notification centre starts going crazy, so much so that Mel stops talking long enough to give me an odd look. My eyes widen.
Holy shit!
I have thirty-three unread messages.

“What the hell is that?” she asks, curiously craning her neck to try and see what I’m doing.

“Phone is playing up,” I mumble. I shove it back in my bag and get to my feet. “Anyway, I better get going. See you tomorrow?”

“’Course,” Mel grins.

As soon as I get home, I power up my MacBook. My hands shake as I log into my email. My heart nearly stops when I see I have over two hundred waiting for me.
They must’ve still been loading on my phone.
And I was impressed with thirty-three. I click on the first one, a shiver of excitement racing through me.

Dear Playbook,

I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for outing that asshole. I had a very similar experience with him and tried to tell my story but nobody was interested. I feel totally elated that the world finally knows what he is like.

I hope you continue to out every one of those cheating scumbags.

Yours,

Jazz

The buzz that hits me from reading the first email is way better than my morning Espresso and it spurs me on. I click and read email after email, my excitement growing with each one. How has this become so big?
Thank God I set up a new email account for this.

I open another:

Playbook,

These bastards need taking down! Keep doing what you’re doing!

YOU RULE

Anon.

Short and sweet but still just as fucking amazing. I’m in shock that so many people not only read my online blog, but actually took the time to write to me.

A subject title catches my eye so I scroll my mouse to the email and click to open it.

Cocks ahoy!

Dear playbook,

You have sparked my interest in these men – I’ve been single for six years now and what I wouldn’t give to have one of these men in my bed. Just so you know, not every girl is interested in a relationship – Some—like me—are just after sex with no strings, and after seeing Jake Tanner nude on your blog– I’m offering to go under cover for you just so I can get up close and personal with his beautiful big cock. What girl wouldn’t want a ride on that?

If you need an undercover reporter – I’m your girl. And I’m not even joking!!!

P.S. Did you take the picture?? Was it as impressive in person??

Mel

I let out a laugh. Is that
my
Mel? No chance
.
Rather than email a blog she’d just hunt Jake down herself and mount him.

After an hour, by which time it had climbed to nearly three hundred emails, I decide that I need a break. A caramel latte. My mouth salivates just thinking about it.

I haven’t been back to my usual place since the incident, but I’ve found a substitute a few streets over.  Their coffee is just as good and the staff are all female, so there’s no chance of a repeat. I groan, my face heating up just thinking about it. I screwed up any chance I had with him when I coated him in my secondhand coffee. Not that I think I ever had one in the first place. Guys like him don't go for girls like me. I’d have better luck with Jake Tanner.

Grabbing my jacket, I run down the stairs of my block of flats and turn left down the hill towards the shops. Sighing, my mind wanders back to my new interest. Who would’ve known that so many women were feeling the same way and have been treated the same by these so-called pillars of society. The worst thing is, if they weren’t so focused on themselves, they could be doing amazing things for the confidence of young kids who didn’t have anyone to look up to.

I shiver, the cold brisk air hitting me as I zip up my coat. I pull my faux fur collar up around my neck and chin, cosying myself into its warmth. My favourite piece of clothing I own, I forked out the two hundred pounds for this jacket last winter, then told my mother that my account had been hacked, rather than admit the truth. I knew she’d top up my account, and later that evening there it was.

Arriving at Lil’s Café, I get into the queue which is almost out the door. My ears prick up to the conversation behind me, and I can’t help but smile.

“Oh, you have to see the article; she shot him down for all the world to see, Dana.”

“How do you know it’s a her?” Dana asks.

“Come on, as if a dude would call Asher out like that.”

“Well, it’s about time someone called out that jerk,” Dana replies. “I can’t believe I wasted my time on that dick.”

“Yeah, I know,” her friend says, her tone oozing sympathy. “I hate him for what he did to you. I never would’ve slept with him if I’d known—honestly.”

“Yes you would, you bitch,” Dana laughs. “It probably would’ve spurred you on more. But you can have Asher. After seeing that full spread of Jake, I’ll be all over that, thanks.”

“Full spread is right,” her friend cracks.

Casually, I turn around, trying to hold in my amusement while pretending to look at the cake counter. I spy on the two girls behind me joking and laughing about their indiscretions, until I’m interrupted by the waitress trying to serve me.
Talk about bad timing.

“A large caramel latte to go please,” I say quickly. By the time I turn back around, the girls are gone. Disappointed, I wait by the end of the counter for my coffee. 

Taking my coffee, I grip it firmly, warming my freezing hands. I walk outside back into the cold morning, my head lost in thought as I turn the corner. Somehow, I manage to drop the new phone that I’ve been monitoring The Playbook emails on.

“Crap,” I mutter, annoyed at myself. I quickly duck to pick it up, praying to myself that it’s not broken. As I stand up, my heel somehow catches in a crack in the footpath. I stumble and fall forwards but somehow manage to correct my footing until my heel finds another crack, sending me lurching forward.

“
Shit
, watch it, will you?” a familiar male voice growls. Looking up, my heart sinks.

“Adam,” I exclaim weakly. No fucking way. I stare at him helplessly, holding my now nearly empty cup limply in my hand as I watch the remnants of my drink drip down his shirt. How is it even possible that I’ve managed to do it again?

“Abbey,” he chuckles, his mouth breaking into a grin. He wipes his arms, then lifts up the bottom of his shirt—the only dry area—to mop up the coffee dripping down his neck. My stomach twists as I sneak a peek at his bare chest. My desire for him triples, if that’s even possible.
Oh God.

“Man, you like pouring your coffee over me, don’t you?” He laughs, extending his arm to help me up. “Admit it, you like seeing me wet.”

Wet?
My legs buckle at the thought. I can’t respond, because if I open my mouth, I’m going to embarrass myself—as if I haven’t done enough of that already.

“Where the hell have you been, anyway?” he asks, moving the conversation on. “You go from a daily customer to nothing?” He grabs the empty cup and examines it.

“So, you’re cheating on me, huh?” He raises one eyebrow and smiles, making me melt on the spot. “I thought I meant more to you than this, Abbey. I thought we had something.”

He’s teasing me, but I’m dying inside. If he had any idea of how badly I wanted him…I force a laugh and try not to sound like an idiot.

“I figured your safety was at risk with me around.” I look from him to my empty cup. “But it looks like you’re at risk anywhere. Nobody is safe with me on the streets,” I joke.

His beautiful eyes sparkle as he smiles at me, which sends my insides crazy. I fight the urge to just kiss him, something I’ve been wanting to do for months. It’s what Mel would do if she were me. She’d take charge and just go for it and deal with the consequences later.
But I’m not her
. And unfortunately, I have fear of rejection; the same fear that will make sure Adam never knows how I feel about him.

Stupid brain thinking it can protect itself from getting hurt.

Ugh. I’m such a mess.

I'm snapped out of my own thoughts by his voice.

“So, where are you heading in such a hurry anyway?” he asks casually.

Awkwardly, I brush my hair off my face and tuck it behind my ear, wishing I’d taken the time to at least comb it before leaving the house. I fall into step beside him and walk—in the opposite direction I was heading; but, oh well.

“Oh, just back home,” I say. “I just needed a caffeine hit. I have an article to write on a new type of orthopedic shoes,” I add. That’s a lie. What I really have to do is pour over a bunch of emails to find my next story.

“Tough at the top, hey?” he asks with a sly smile creeping onto his face. “You’re a great writer, Abbey. I know you’ll get where you want to be someday.”

I glance at him, surprised. He’s read my work? For a second I wonder if he knows about The Playbook.
No, that’s impossible.
He knows I write for
Over Eighties
, so he must be talking about that.

“Thanks,” I reply, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles, which makes me blush and tingle all at the same time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and don’t quite know how to handle it.

“Can I at least buy you another coffee?” he asks. “Since I’m wearing your last one and all.”

“Sure,” I say. It’s not like things can get any worse.

An hour later I trudge home, feeling deflated. As I let myself inside, I sigh. All the excitement of my new project has been overshadowed by running into Adam. Getting over my stupid little crush is going to be much harder than I thought. Seeing him today…I groan and throw myself onto the couch.

Going out for coffee with him was all sorts of wonderful, but it also highlighted how far out of my league he is. Through our whole “date” the waitress was clearly trying to hit on him—right in front of me.
She probably thought I was his sister or something.
Because a guy that hot couldn’t be interested in me, right? 

I reach for my phone and text Mel.

Me: Kill me now. Please.

Mel: What’s up? You okay?

Me: I managed to coat Adam in coffee again today. Yeah, I’m just great.

Mel: Dude. You’re hilarious. I’m shocked you had the balls to go back there. Kudos to you.