Chapter 1
Bellamy Cox
"Oh, hell no!" I grumble under my breath.
"Gentlemen, meet the newest member of our Physiotherapist Team, Macie Daniels. That's right, you heard me Macie Daniels, she is my sister and you will treat her with the respect she deserves." Coach Harry Daniels, my best friend and also ex-team mate, informs us all.
Coach Daniels—Harry to me—and I grew up together. He also used to be my team mate when we both played for West Ham United. Harry had a career ending injury and became one of the youngest coaches in the Premier League instead.
He has since become the coach for Woodbridge United and has lead the team to back to back promotions through to League one. He's aiming for a back to back to back streak to get to the Championship and with the right financial backing he wants to take the team all the way to the Premier League which would be almost unheard of.
And that is why I am on loan to Woodbridge from West Ham. I wasn't getting much match time. Truth be told it’s due to a slight weakness in my ankle from an injury I sustained in school and I perhaps wasn't on top of the recovery as much as I should have been. I didn’t always have the strength to push through compared to some of my European counterparts.
Who can blame the team managers and coaches, they will always pick the best players to start. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss me off or frustrate the hell out of me as I know I can play just as well as them, I play smart.
Harry sees my skill, drive and experience though and wants me to help lead this team, so I get match time, whole matches, it's a win win.
It's my dream to play in Europe though, especially Paris Saint-Germain FC (PSG FC), but I need to prove myself first and to do that I need to be on the pitch playing every match and working my way up to match time in the Premier League again.
I won’t let anything—anyone stand in my way.
Now? Now though, I have a distraction.
Macie Daniels.
I can't stand her. Ever since the incident. Or should I say series of incidents.
Why does she have to work here?
Why does she have to be so close to her brother? It's been bliss while she's been away at university the last three years.
I haven't had to think of her once ... apart from every time I didn't get match time, or when Harry kept harping on about her, "She's doing so well," "Top of her class," "I knew she'd smash it at uni," it was endless.
Yeah, so all the fucking time, there's been no escape.
Coach continues to talk but I don’t pay attention to what he’s saying I’m too fixated on her. My interest piques when I hear him say that all the players will have an assessment with her. He explains how we are one big family and need to get to know each other, to work together, to achieve our goals, literally, with that she gives him a little side eye with a wry smile. He tells us that she too has a love for the game and knows it well but doesn’t elaborate more than that.
She has yet to see me as I’m partially hidden towards the back of the locker room. I don’t know if she knows I’m on loan here, since it’s so recent. I find myself glaring at her, watching her.
She’s petite and trim. Although she is athletic in appearance she’s filled out into a woman’s body compared to her earlier years when she was a little scrawny. I can’t help but notice the perfect hand sized proportion of her tits hidden beneath her uniform polo shirt which is stretched across them.
I swallow hard at the thought of getting my hands on them, before I adjust my stance and remember why I dislike her so much. She always was attractive in that understated way and that’s a problem, that was always the problem.
As Coach continues on with god knows what, she bites her bottom lip. She looks unsure of herself. A little timid even, and shy, her cheeks are rosy, blushing maybe, and she shuffles from foot to foot.
A nervous habit that comes across as uncomfortableness. She wasn’t always this socially awkward, it seems that quirk increased in her teenage years. Never one for being centre of attention, made it easier for me to wind her up.
She won’t last long if she's going to be shy around these players, they'll eat her alive. I growl internally, they better not eat her. My eyes widen in shock at my reaction, where did that come from?
You know where. I mentally chastise myself reminding myself to focus on my future.
As she looks at all the players in turn, her long softly curled blond hair that’s pulled into a tight mid-height ponytail sways gently. A few tendrils of her naturally almost platinum blond strands have escape their restraint and wispily frame her face. Her high cheek bones, large eyes and slender chin add to her pixie like stature.
Where credits due she might be tiny at about five foot one, that all important additional inch, but she’s definitely not weak, she’s tiny but mighty!
Waiting patiently my smirk is at the ready when her eyes finally land on mine.
You wouldn’t know it if you didn’t know her, she hides it - her shock - well. A grin, akin to the Joker in Batman, splits my face in devilish satisfaction that I’ve got one over on her, well sort of. That ever so subtle widening of her eyes and the slight twitch of her cupid bow upper lip. But then her nostrils flare and the annoyance is shown.
When her eyes lock on mine she regains her composure till she fixes her face with one of her famous sneers, an actual sneer, all stoicism and professionalism forgotten. I match hers with one of my own.
It’s like two dogs facing off with one another, we just need snarling and growling and we’d be in the pits.
Good. I’ve got under her skin.
When I quirk an eyebrow challenging her it seems to break our spell. And as if she suddenly remembers where she is and what she’s doing her face becomes blank and she carries on looking individually at all my team mates.
Jake Webb, otherwise known as Spider, I know real original, nudges me. “What was that look for? You got some history with her?” He knows that Coach and I have been best mates since we were kids so it won’t take long for him to realise that I must know his sister well too.
“Nothing,” I mumble so as not to interrupt Coach.
“Didn’t look like nothing. Watch yourself you don’t need the distraction this season.”
Doesn’t he think I know that already, “I know … it’s nothing.”
“Uh-huh, tell both your faces that!”
Gazing at my feet as Coach continues, my frustration builds. How am I going to focus on my future with her here. She found her way beneath my skin and has festered there ever since like some bad rash that I can’t stop scratching.
I can’t leave it alone.
I can’t leave her alone.
She needs to pay for what she did.
The more I think about this situation the more pissed off I become. Coach knows how important this season is for me to prove myself. Harry, my so-called best mate knows how much his sister and I don’t get on, he knows this will be a distraction for me.
Fuck! Just when things were starting to fall into place.
One by one players are called in to meet her - I don’t even want to think her name - and get assessed. While the rest of us do a light weights work out or chat to our coaches, personal trainers or nutritionists.
Why the fuck didn’t Harry tell me, the bastard.
He could have told me as a friend, given me the heads up, even if as a coach he couldn’t divulge. I wouldn’t have said anything.
He knows how much we hate each other. He doesn’t know the why but he knows it’s enough to have us at each others throats.
I hope to fuck she’s not assigned to me.
If she is … I might just have to kick up a fuss and pull some I’m-a-Premier-League-player bullshit.
I don’t want her here and she’s going to find out the hard way how much.
It’s only been a couple of hours and I’m already off my game and distracted. The Assistant Coach, Jordan Murphy, had to resort to clicking his fingers in front of my face on more than one occasion. Not exactly the best impression.
“Might I remind you, you may be on loan from the Premier League but that doesn’t mean you get to switch off and coast your way through training sessions no matter how light they are. We still expect you to put in the work just like everyone else. Even if you are best friends with the Head Coach I’ll still pull you from starting if you don’t pull your weight.”
Well, shit!
“Sorry Coach, lot on my mind.”
“Get your head in the game, Cox.”
“I will, it is.”
“It better be, you’re meant to help lead this team to promotion. Now get out there and run that drill again until it’s perfect.”
“Yes, Coach.”
It’s half hour later when I’m guzzling my energy drink to replenish my electrolytes, that my name is called.
“You’re up, Cox, go see Daniels … uh, Macie Daniels.” I roll my eyes to myself, as if that needed clarifying.
I saunter towards the treatment rooms, taking my sweet time, this will be on my terms not hers.
Game on.
