Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Game On
    Game On
    Game On
    Ebook113 pages1 hour

    Game On

    By Nicola Marsh

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook


    One thing I need to decide for myself … am I playing to win, or playing for keeps? 

    Angelica Bryant

    Football is my passion. Right now, I have a chance to make my dream of being the best midfielder in the Women's Aussie Rules competition a reality. And soon I'll finish my studies and succeed in a role in sports management. For now, working in my dad's bar pays the bills. Even if he used to be a world–famous soccer legend and can't care less about Aussie Rules.
    I won't let anything get in my way. Not even the hot–as–hot one–night stand who, oh yes, just turned out to be Jaxon Flint, one of Australia's most successful sports agents … and he's offered me a job. We've agreed we have to forget about our attraction to both stay on the track we've laid out for ourselves. So why does the idea of being with Jaxon make me want to take the biggest risk of my life? It's game on. 

    Jaxon Flint

    I told her my name was Jack. She told me her name was Angel. But an angel she wasn't when I took her home for the most amazing night of my life. I  picked her up in a sports bar … but I never expected her to turn out to be the rising star of the new Women's Aussie Rules football competition. Or a natural at handling ego–fuelled sports superstars.  I knew Angie was someone I had to hire … and a star I would be lucky to represent. Those are both good reasons to stay away from her. And after the way I failed my sister, I know I should stay away from someone so driven to excel. So why can't I get it out of my head that I want to be everything to my Angel? 

    Other books available in The Women of W.A.R. series:
    Long Game by Catherine Evans
    Fair Game by Amy Andrews

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins Publishers Australia
    Release dateFeb 1, 2018
    ISBN9781489255167
    Game On
    Author

    Nicola Marsh

    ERROR

    Read more from Nicola Marsh

    Related to Game On

    Titles in the series (4)

    View More
    View More

    Related ebooks

    Contemporary Romance For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Couple Goals

      Nov 29, 2019

      Couple Goals
      5 min read

    • Article

      App-ily Never After

      Sep 4, 2019

      App-ily Never After
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Art Of Conversation

      Nov 1, 2023

      The Art Of Conversation
      4 min read

    • Article

      Perfection

      Jun 9, 2020

      For years I could barely write a page. I thought I was becoming a virtuoso of smallness while the grief, which is wordless, occupied an ever-greater volume. My friend lived in the estates on the bad side of town. Let’s go to the forest, she said when

      9 min read

    • Article

      Book Extract

      Jan 20, 2020

      My year off was also interesting, in that I didn’t feel any less loved, or cherished, or wanted. Why? Because my life is already rich with soulmates, and I got the chance to behold that. You don’t have to shag someone for them to be a soulmate. We do

      7 min read

    • Article

      Love, Lust, and More

      Feb 12, 2020

      Fleetwood Mac was singing She is dancing away from you now, and I squirmed in my seat. Kabir was rubbing my thigh as he drove, a gesture I once thought was reserved for me. Bah! I also used to think he only took naked selfies in bed with me, but then

      11 min read

    • Article

      First Man Standing

      Jul 3, 2022

      First Man Standing
      13 min read

    • Article

      Why I can finally STOP WORRYING

      Apr 1, 2021

      Last summer, I bought some dungarees. This is hardly news in itself. They were everywhere. Cute, comfortable, comforting in the chaos of a pandemic. But I had a big – biiiig – birthday coming up in a few months. Could I carry them off? And then came

      3 min read

    • Article

      I Used to Give Men Mercy

      Feb 12, 2018

      I Used to Give Men Mercy
      12 min read

    • Article

      Love. Loss. Weakness. Shame.

      Feb 9, 2023

      Love. Loss. Weakness. Shame.
      7 min read

    • Article

      Face Time With Terry McMillan

      Mar 27, 2020

      Face Time With Terry McMillan
      5 min read

    • Article

      LIV & LEARN

      Jun 22, 2022

      LIV & LEARN
      2 min read

    • Article

      LIV & LEARN

      Jun 22, 2022

      LIV & LEARN
      2 min read

    • Article

      A Brand-new ending

      Jan 29, 2022

      A Brand-new ending
      7 min read

    • Article

      Celestial Being

      Jan 11, 2023

      Celestial Being
      7 min read

    • Article

      Honey & Spice

      Aug 8, 2022

      So, he was good with kids; had a softness to him. The most dangerous thing about that was clearly it wasn’t performed: there was no way he could fake the adoration with which he looked at that angel. With that obnoxious display of genuine cuteness, h

      5 min read

    • Article

      Breaking the Rules

      Aug 15, 2018

      LENORE MYKA is the author of King of the Gypsies: Stories (BkMk Press, 2015). She is a recipient of a 2016 National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship, and her writing has appeared in a variety of publications, including the New England Rev

      10 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Game On

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Game On - Nicola Marsh

      Chapter 1

      ANGIE

      I liked working in a bar. Serving drinks, listening to life stories, dishing out advice, chuckling with the drunks. I could handle it all and frequently did at my dad’s sports bar, The Scissor Kick, Melbourne’s newest hotspot.

      Arse-kicking Angie, they called me, and I liked it. I didn’t take crap from anyone.

      So what the hell was I doing here, perched on a stool at a rival bar, doing some reconnaissance work for Dad but putting up with unwelcome advances from a bunch of Neanderthal pricks all in the name of research?

      I braced as a group of four cute-enough guys approached, jostling and elbowing as I’d witnessed many times before, usually when I wasn’t the object of their intent.

      ‘Hey, are you Cinderella?’ Tall, Dark and Dickhead led the pack. ‘Because I can see that dress coming off at midnight.’

      I bit back a groan, not summoning the energy to point out I wore a denim mini and a black tank top. Idiot.

      When I didn’t respond, the second guy tried his luck. ‘You must be a hell of a thief, because you stole my heart from across the room.’ He clutched his chest to emphasise it and gazed at me hopefully.

      I refrained from saying, ‘I may have vomited in my mouth a little.’ Just.

      The third squared his shoulders, exuding cockiness. ‘Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?’

      That did it. No more. I pointed over their shoulders. ‘Boys, there’s a door over there for a reason. Use it.’

      ‘Bitch,’ the first one muttered under his breath, as they collectively glared at me before swaggering away in search of their next victim.

      ‘Arseholes,’ I muttered, determined to be more protective toward unaccompanied females at The Scissor Kick in future.

      Was this the type of crap women had to put up with on a night out? I wouldn’t know. I didn’t date. I didn’t socialise. I didn’t do much of anything but work nights at Dad’s bar and study days at uni. Though with a degree in sports management finally under my belt, I hoped to change all that.

      I’d given Dad enough of my soul. He could find some other skivvy to tolerate his excessive demands.

      ‘That was painful.’ A laconic drawl from the stool on my left drew my attention. ‘Men are jerks.’

      I rolled my eyes. I’d seen this ploy too, where guys berated their own sex in the hope of cosying up to a woman. Pathetic.

      However, when I half swivelled on my stool and saw my next victim of a potential tongue-lashing, any putdowns fled.

      This guy didn’t have The Look. The naughty glint in the eyes, the sleazy smirk, the roving stare. Uh-uh, this guy had the potential to command The Look from me.

      Dark wavy hair. Dark soulful eyes. Dark designer suit. He didn’t need The Look because one glance from those eyes and women’s panties would drop all by themselves.

      Lucky I was immune.

      Though for a fleeting moment, as I remembered the last time I’d had sex an unmemorable eleven months earlier, maybe I should amend that to unlucky.

      ‘You’re a man. Doesn’t that make you a card-carrying member of Jerks United too?’

      ‘That depends.’

      ‘On?’

      ‘How foolish the woman.’

      Against my better judgement, he had me intrigued. ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘It means that I’m upfront when I like a woman. I don’t resort to all that bullshit corny line crap. I tell her I want her and not to expect more than what I’m willing to give. If she reads more into it …’ he shrugged. ‘More fool her.’

      My ovaries twanged. I may have met the male version of me.

      ‘Interesting perspective.’ I fiddled with the label on my boutique beer, an annoying habit I’d tried to conquer for years and failed. ‘Yet one question remains.’

      An eyebrow arched. ‘What’s that?’

      ‘How foolish do you think I am?’

      He laughed, a rich, deep sound that rumbled all the way through me, arrowing straight between those damn ovaries. ‘From the way you handled those dickheads, I may have just fallen in love a little.’

      ‘Be still my beating heart,’ I deadpanned, enjoying our dry banter all too much.

      How long since I’d done this? Swapped witty one-liners with a pro? Try never. The guys I’d dated occasionally in uni had been fellow sports-freaks who viewed sex the same way I did: as a form of exercise. No muss, no fuss fun.

      I’d hooked up with exactly three guys, one a year, during my studies. None of them had made me sit up and take notice like this guy.

      ‘Just so you know, I don’t do love, so I paid you a massive compliment.’ He raised his beer in a silent cheer.

      ‘Just so you know, I don’t talk to strangers, so the fact I’m sitting here listening to your BS is a massive compliment.’ I clinked my beer bottle against his, unable to stop a burgeoning smile.

      Because staring into those mesmerising dark eyes filled with humour made me want to laugh out loud for the hell of it.

      ‘In that case, I’ll drink to that.’ He took a slug from his beer, the smooth convulsive action of his throat making my fingers itch to reach out and touch. ‘At the risk of reverting to trite jerk status, what do you do when you’re not emasculating misguided men?’

      ‘I work at a bar not unlike this one.’

      I must’ve inadvertently screwed up my nose because he laughed again.

      ‘And not loving it, obviously.’

      I shrugged, not willing to divulge my reasons for sticking around at my father’s bar when he obviously didn’t give a crap one way or the other. ‘It’s a stopgap until I get where I want to be.’

      ‘Where’s that?’

      The truth hovered on the tip of my tongue but most guys didn’t understand a woman wanting to make it big in Aussie Rules; why would this one be any different?

      ‘Anywhere but here.’ I placed my bottle on the bar and gestured around. ‘Seen one mirror-lined, liquor-stocked, den of inequity filled with memorabilia from washed-up sports stars, seen them all.’

      ‘Sounds like you really love your job. Cheers to that.’ He took another slug of his beer as I bit back a grin.

      I liked sarcasm. Go figure.

      ‘Let me guess. You’re one of those annoyingly chipper people who live for work.’

      He held up his left hand. No ring. Not that it meant anything to some guys. ‘Guilty as charged.’

      ‘Workaholics are good.’ I cast him a sly sideways glance. ‘They end up alcoholics who keep me in a job.’

      ‘I thought you were only playing bar wench as a stopgap?’

      ‘And I thought you were just leaving?’

      As much as I was enjoying our banter, I should go. I had an early start on the training track tomorrow and another double shift starting at midday.

      ‘Is that an invitation?’ He eyeballed me, bold and challenging. Damned if I didn’t like it. ‘Would you like to leave with me?’

      No innuendo. No sly jibes. A blatant invitation that tempted me more than it should.

      If I had a bucket list, sex with a stranger wouldn’t be on it. That was before.

      Before him.

      ‘Just so we’re clear, we’re not leaving here to have ice-cream, right?’

      ‘There can be ice, and cream, involved.’ He leaned closer, a waft of something crisp and expensive washing over me, befuddling me more than his words. ‘If you’re lucky.’

      I didn’t pick up men in bars.

      I didn’t do one-night stands.

      But the longer I stared into his dark, hypnotic eyes, I knew without a doubt I was in danger of doing both.

      Chapter 2

      JAXON

      How long since I’d felt this kind of pull with a woman? Months, years, aeons?

      I

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1