It's A Game, But Who's Keeping Score?

The next morning, as I turned to roll onto my side I rolled into something warm and hard. I smiled and snuggled into Lukas’ side.

“Morning liebling.”

“Morning Lukas.”

“I assume I don’t have to tell you what happened last night, like the last time?”

I giggled and pressed a kiss to his chest, “No, but I’d still like that.”

“Well, it went something like this,” Lukas said before attacking me with kisses.

We went on like this for the rest of the week, spending almost every minute together except for when I had practice or Lukas had business to attend. As much as I loved having someone always beside me, holding my hand, kissing me softly, everything that makes up a relationship…

I felt guilty.

I felt like I was stringing Lukas along and that I was promising him something that I couldn’t deliver; a relationship. I left the talk with him too long and before I knew it both he, Pepe and Xabi were leaving for their International Duty.

I quickly threw my hair up in a messy bun and walked out to the bedroom where Lukas was practically tearing it apart.

“Is there something that you’re looking for in particular?” I asked innocently, tugging at the white dress shirt I was currently wearing as a dress.

“You!” Lukas bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at me. “I’ve spent the last 10 minutes looking for that.”

I let my eyes trail down Lukas’ perfectly sculpted chest as I walked towards him; I added a little sway in my hips. Trailing a finger down his chest I whispered, “You look better without it.” And with that I left the room in a hurry so I would get a head-start on Lukas.

I let out a yelp as I raced down the stairs into the kitchen, where I lost my footing and I crashed into someone. I could feel a warm pair of hands on my thigh and hip; the dress shirt riding up to expose my underwear.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine-” I stopped as I realized it was Fernando I had run into. “What are you doing here?” I seethed.

Fernando stiffened, pushing me off and stood up, “I’m here to give Xabi and Pepe a ride to the airport.”

“Whatever,” I spat and turned, only to run into another body.

“Got you!” Lukas laughed, picking me up. “I looked all over the house for you.”

“Lukas,” Fernando said between clenched teeth.

Lukas brought me down beside me, wrapping a protective arm around me, “Fernando, nice to see you again.”

Fernando nodded grimly and turned to me, switching to Spanish, “Lo que está haciendo aquí?” (What is he doing here?)

“Él está aquí para verme, no es de su negocio,” I spat. (He’s here to see me, it’s none of your business.)

“Tiene todo que ver con mi empresa,” Fernando boomed, his hands forming fists. (It has everything to do with my business.)

Lukas jumped in, “Okay, so I don’t know what you’re saying, but I think you should leave Fernando.”

“Bastardo,” Fernando spat, before pushing past both of us and heading out to his car before slamming the front door.

Pepe came barrelling down the stairs, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I choked out. “Good luck in Turkey.”

“Thanks, wish you would come with us,” he said, giving me a short hug. “And good luck in Wales, Lukas,” Pepe added, shaking Lukas’ hand.

Lukas was momentarily stunned before responding, “Thanks, you too.”

I tugged on Lukas’ hand, pulling him up the stairs, in the direction of my room. As we walked in, I sat down on my bed, my head in my hands. I felt the bed sink down beside me, signalling that Lukas was beside me.

“Lukas, we need to –”

I was cut off by Lukas’ lips; everything I had planned to say was out the window. Along with the shirt that Lukas had already slipped off. As he pushed me lightly, we fell back onto the bed. We continued for another 15 minutes, before I finally mustered up the guts to pull away.

“Lukas,” I whispered. “We can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” he replied bluntly.

“Wait, what?”

“I knew that by coming here, I wasn’t going to come away with a girlfriend. I just can’t seem to keep my hands off of you,” Lukas said with a smile.

“Then why did you come in the first place?”

“I heard what a dick that Fernando was being towards you, so I thought I would brighten up your life for a bit.”

“I still don’t know why you didn’t try harder to make me your girlfriend.”

“Hey now, don’t think of yourself too highly,” Lukas said, which earned a punch from me. “I can’t make you my girlfriend because you can only be with one person.”

“Don’t even say it,” I moaned, covering my ears.

Lukas easily pulled away one hand and whispered, “Fernando,” before kissing me right below my right ear.

“I told you not to say that,” I growled, pulling away abruptly.

“I’m just telling you the truth. Just know that if you ever need a warm body to fill you bed, I’m just a phone call away,” he said, pulling on his dress shirt that I had just been wearing.

“But-”

“My number is already in your phone,” Lukas said before blowing me a kiss and walking out of my bedroom and leaving for Wales.

I sighed, falling back onto my bed, “I have one messed up life.”

The following Wednesday, I flipped between watching the Spain-Turkey game and the Germany-Wales game on the TV. I was curled up on the couch in a sweater that Lukas had left me and my Spanish National Team track pants; to be fair to both sides. Thankfully, both teams won their games and the boys would be back the next day.

We were heading to Fulham to try and win our fifth game in a row. We could easily beat them; we just needed to get our own mistakes down. The whole ride to the hotel, I was texting Lukas and even with his cute messages, I knew we were better off as friends…with benefits.

That night, even with a room to myself I slept horribly. My mind kept going back to that day with the screaming match with Fernando in the kitchen. In the morning, I could barely keep my eyes open, which wasn’t a good thing as I was starting the match.

To say that I played decent was a complete understatement. I was missing nearly every chance and every pass I gave seemed to be at least ten feet off. Finally, in the 70th minute Rafa took me off, a sad look on his face and mumbled that we needed to talk back home. Unfortunately, my mistakes seemed too big to fix and we lost the game 1-0.

We silently made our way into the dressing room, no one really saying anything. Then Fernando came in, who was normally the quietest of us all.

“This is all your fault,” he boomed, throwing his cleats off and jabbing a finger at me.

“How is this my fault? We’re a team!”

“If you didn’t have your head in the clouds, thinking about your boyfriend, then maybe we could have won.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I seethed, my fists clenching at my sides.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Usually you go out with people you fuck,” he spat.

I could feel my blood boiling; that was a low blow. I almost reminded him that we had slept together in Vienna even though we weren’t going out. He was pushing my buttons and he knew it, judging by the smirk on his face.

“Don’t drag Lukas into this,” I growled, taking a step closer to Fernando.

“Or did he leave because you weren’t good enough?”

That set me off and I punched Fernando square in the jaw. He stumbled back, bringing a hand up to his mouth where a trickle of blood streamed down. He glared at me before saying, “Go back home, the Premiership isn’t for little girls who can’t control their tempers.”

I exhaled loudly, attempting to calm myself down. “Well, the Premiership isn’t for pretty boys who think they can have two girls wrapped around their fingers.”