Chapter Thirty-Three

C hapter Thirty-Three

A rna

Arna: Marls! I'm calling you this afternoon. I need to see your face and I miss you. x

T hrowing my phone into my draw, I opened the latest manuscript I was editing and reached for my highlighter. Why did people feel the need to use so many different fonts in a piece on gardening? It wasn't as if it was a floral arrangement on the page – Times New Roman would suffice and prevent me from biting the end off this texta in pure frustration.

It was already arduous trying to concentrate when all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed, on top of a six-foot hunk of man meat, and ride the guy until tomorrow. It was safe to say I was not only slightly obsessed, but happy . I had never felt so whole in any other relationship, not that there was much to compare it to, but Andy brought out the very best in me, challenging me to be bolder, stronger and livelier.

Sighing, I dropped the marker and propped my chin in my hand, elbow on the desk. Snippets of Andy exiting the bathroom, a white towel slung low around his hips crowded my mind and I crossed my legs to alleviate the itch I would not be able to scratch until I saw him tonight. It was a wonder we left the apartment at all. He made it difficult to do anything other than rip that towel from his waist and suc –

My laptop pinging halted my deliciously inappropriate daydream, given I was at the office, however upon seeing Andy's name I avariciously grabbed the mouse to open the email.

Doing my best to camouflage the broad smile threatening to form, I hit reply.

I didn't even bother trying to edit, knowing I would be too focused on devouring Andy's next words. Instead, I took the opportunity to use the bathroom and was delighted when I returned to two new emails. I felt like a child on Christmas with how excited I got every time I saw his name on my screen. At this point, I almost wanted to slap my lovesick self and I hadn't even told him how I felt yet.

Fuck. I was frozen, my cursor hovering over the button to reply but my finger unable to compute.

This was big.

Huge.

This was obviously what Jay was talking to Andy about when I returned from the bathroom.

Would Andy have done it if I wasn't there? Did he do it? Surely not. I could sense his frustration after he spoke to Jay. He was annoyed and now it made sense.

I was stuck blankly staring at his email pondering my own intrusive thoughts when Darren barked my name scaring the absolute crap out of me.

"Arna, here now!" The office silenced, all eyes on me as I stood at my desk and speedily replied to Andy, my taps on the keyboard aggressive as I put my frustration at Dickhead's rudeness into my actions.

Hitting send on what I knew was the truth, despite my ridiculous thoughts, I raced towards Darren's office and was about to close the door when I froze in my tracks.

Fudge. Undo. Backspace. Delete.

I just told him I loved him.

Shit .

I told him I loved him – in an email.

An email .

Leaning against the wall for support I took a few deep breaths to quell the nausea rising up my throat.

"I can understand why you look pale. I would too if my boyfriend was about to make headlines for all the wrong reasons."

Brushing the loose hair from my forehead I looked up at Darren's smug face. There was no way he knew why I was in such a panic, but wait – "Huh? What about Andy?"

"Close the door, Arna."

"Manners are free, you know." I mumbled as I closed the door and sat down.

"Arna, Pulse needs the inside scoop." He lifted his feet up onto the desk in his default prickish pose, lounging like a man who had discovered the upcoming lottery numbers.

"Inside scoop of what?" I was beyond confused at this point and with my brain functioning at half-strength, I needed clarity.

His legs flew from the desk as he shot to his feet. "Arna, don't toy with me. The press is buzzing. The Hearts are embroiled in allegations of drug use. This scandal will be the story of the fucking year. And you're going to write and publish it."

"No!" My eyes went wide, my hand flying to my chest. This was not happening.

Shit. I needed to see him, calm him, reassure him, and love him. Not write a fucking bullshit article about him.

"Darren, I don't know what you're talking about but I need to go. I - argh - I have a migraine. I'm sorry."

I stood and pulled the door open with more force than was necessary and raced to my desk to grab my bag, phone and jacket.

"Arna!" Darren's voice silenced the office once more and I turned towards him, his face blurry through my tears which were threatening to spill. "You will write this and send it to me tonight. Because you're a professional and this is what a senior editor does."

I glared at him. So many thoughts racing through my mind ready to erupt from my mouth. This mother fucker knew exactly what he was doing and right then I hated him more than ever before.

For a second I imagined myself punching him in the face as I resigned, but I knew I couldn't be impulsive at a time like this. For starters, I would be forced to move home or ask Paul to cover the rent and that was a low I was not ready for in this life or the next. But more than that, I needed to make sure Darren didn't just write it anyway with no regard for the man at the centre of the story.

"I will see you tomorrow, Darren." I gritted through clenched teeth before I practically ran down the stairs and into the first taxi I saw, giving the driver the address of the clubhouse.

As requested, I waited outside the area reserved for family and friends when suddenly the door opened and I was yanked through. Andy hadn't been kidding. There were paparazzi lined up outside the ground, television reporters filming the nightly bulletin and as I shuffled past, grateful for my winter jacket which I used as a shield to avoid being recognised, I heard phrases like, " accountability " , " credibility " and " transparency. "

Less than seventy-two hours ago the Hearts won what was an incredible match. Now, they were managing a multifaceted scandal which could have terrible consequences for many. Andy included.

Once I heard the click of the closing door behind me, I pulled the hood from my head and was met with a very stressed face mirroring my own feelings.

"Kieran, hi." His tie was dishevelled and his shirt was untucked, something I had never seen from the normally put together agent. Things were clearly worse than I anticipated.

"Arna, I'm glad you're here. Andy hasn't spoken a word to anyone for the last two hours after a tense meeting with the coaching staff and it's an absolute shit storm. The press are pushing for a statement and I'm doing my best to cover their fucking arses but they don't make it bloody easy. I'm getting too old for –"

"Where is he?" I interjected softly, placing a calming hand on his forearm. The fallout was far and wide and Kieran was on the frontline.

"Sitting in the stands." He sighed before adding much quieter, "He needs you."

The air was crisp in the stadium as the sun sat low in the sky. Kieran held the door open for me but didn't move to exit and I took that as a cue that I was on my own.

"Thanks, Kieran."

"If anyone can bring him back, it's you. Good luck." His belief in the impact I had with Andy was comforting as he smiled resignedly, closing the door, most likely off to manage another player. He was going to need a vacation after this mess was cleared.

Andy sat high in the stands, his elbows rested on his knees, shoulders hunched and his head held in his hands. He was nothing like the man I spent long nights entwined with and that alone caused tears to well in my eyes again.

I sat down in the railed seat next to him, careful to pull the bottom down entirely before I put my weight onto it. When he didn't move, I rubbed big circles on his back and grabbed his bicep with my other hand. Leaning my cheek against his shoulder blade, I took a deep breath of my favourite man and made certain my own emotions were at bay before I spoke.

"Hey, baby."

Initially, he didn't reply, didn't even acknowledge that he noticed my arrival until he sighed long and deep and turned to me. His face was lined with a fathomless exhaustion which was starkly different to the man I knew. Lifting an arm and draping it around me he pulled me into his side and rested his cheek on top of my head.

"What are you doing here?"

Oh. I hadn't told him I was coming. I was so caught up with what Darren wanted me to do that I forgot that I told him I loved him or that I was on my way. I turned up at his workplace without warning. I didn't even check if he replied. Christ. There were names for people like me and s tage five clinger was one of them.

"Ummm, yeah – sorry. I should have called, or emailed seeing you love that so much." I huffed a breath at my own joke but he didn't even flinch. "Wrong time. I called Kieran as I thought you might be busy." I mumbled.

"Come here." He nudged me to sit on his lap and because I was not one to say no to him, and enjoyed being as close as possible, I straddled him doing my best not to press a little deeper, the warmth of his body so familiar.

Running my nails down the coarse hair lining his jaw, I lifted his face to mine and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Rough day, huh?"

"The worst." He exhaled again. "Someone saw one of, some of, or who the fuck knows how many of the boys snorting cocaine yesterday. It's going to hit the news tonight and Hearts are releasing a press statement at the same time, but it's a fucking mess."

I kissed both his cheeks before placing another on each of his closed eyes.

"Okay, so not ideal. It's not performance enhancing though so why is it this bad?"

"Hearts have a strict policy against drugs, Arns. All drugs. All teams do. Someone is losing their position on the team over this and I haven't even been able to speak to Jack or Jay."

"Oh my god, Andy. I'm so sorry." I ran my hands through his hair realising the severity of the situation. "Is that what you and Jay were talking about last night?"

He looked up at me impassively before he nodded. "Yeah. Jay told me Jack and Dyl were in the bathrooms and someone gave it to them. He wanted me to go talk to them but I didn't think Jack would actually do it, you know. And Dyl…" He trailed off, his words dripping with unspoken self-admonishment.

"You can't blame yourself." I said, shaking my head. "You're their captain on the field, but he is an adult too."

"He's so young, Arns. He has his whole career ahead of him. Why would he be so stupid?"

I squeezed his biceps, ignoring what they did to me and did my best to reassure him.

"Are they sure he did it? Are you sure? What if they are mistaken?"

"The evidence is not concrete but they have a few people who were there last night who are happy to make a quick buck saying it happened. It's not good."

"My arsehole boss asked me to write an article on it all. People are savages. I'm ashamed to say I work for this industry today."

Andy glanced out at the field in a cogitative silence, his eyes flickering as he processed what I said.

"I won't do it. You know I wouldn't, right?" I sat up straighter on his lap, my hands falling to my thighs. I was suddenly desperate for him to believe me, to know he would always come before money or glory.

"Of course. I know you, but – you argh, you should." He vacillated, shaking his head. "At least if you do it the players will be given a sense of justice. Integrity."

"Andy, I can't. It's a conflict of interest. Not to mention –"

"Arns," He cut in, "They already know my brother is involved. Mum and Dad are beside themselves. Please. Please. If anyone can work this, it's you. I don't trust anyone else." His resolve conveyed his trust in me to make this better, a small twinkle in his eye as if I was the only way out.

"Babe." The uncertainty lodged itself in my chest like relentless heartburn. There were so many reasons why this wasn't a good idea. Why this could backfire and ruin what had only just started between us, but he looked so desolate that I knew I would do anything to help him. His tenuous relationship with the media had caused him and his family such pain already that I felt it was kismet that we met. In my position, I could possibly be the mediator. The one to heal some of the past wounds with more than just a bandaid response and save his brother the same fate his mum suffered.

But if I was doing this, I was doing it my way and not to please Darren or even the Hearts. I was doing this for Andy and him alone. I pushed myself off his lap and stood before him, the hunger to fix this for him tingling in my fingers.

"Right, then. I need to speak to your PR team, your coaches, Jack, Jay and Dylan. I want transparency so it is abundantly obvious there's no dubiety. Let's go!"

It was 4:30 am when I sent my article through to Darren's inbox, finally closing my laptop. Andy had only messaged me an hour earlier to say he was home from the clubhouse, two hours after I left with everything I needed to write the press release Urban Pulse was going to drop in a couple of hours.

Even as I typed, I was ruminating between telling Andy I didn't want to do this and thinking it was best coming from someone who actually cared about and knew these people as he had said.

Instead, I focused on facts over emotions. I told Andy I would be honest and sincere, and that's exactly what I did. But he wasn't there when I spoke to the boys and there were things which were going to come as a surprise. It didn't sit well for him to not know what the outcome was but he insisted that he wanted to stay out of it all and trusted me to do the right thing. He needed to focus on the rest of the team so he eventually left me with the PR personnel to manage perception while he went into another meeting with the coaching staff.

I made sure that every person involved agreed to the narrative and how I would pitch it because I wasn't going to be another disappointment to this team and most especially, the man I loved. Before I hit send, I had Kieran give his tick of approval to ensure it was a realistic, yet authentic portrayal. It wasn't going to encourage bullshit lies and gossip, which I knew would be mildly disappointing to Darren. However, it was the truth, and the truth didn't always need to stampede over the lives of innocent people to increase the bank accounts of a few.

If Marlee answered my call, I would have joked about being a Hearts' hype girl now and the media's very own version of Robin Hood. Instead, I settled for Dad harrumphing his approval into the phone and Queeny screaming from the background about how " society these days was too soft for their own good " and that " the players should be allowed to have fun regardless of legalities ". She had a point but she was a law unto herself, my nan.

Andy was struggling with being the captain whose role it was to lead and constantly feeling he let the team down. His self-reproach routine was like a shadow, walking alongside him, but this wasn't something he could carry and I had done everything I could to reassure him of this. I wished I was laying beside him right now, the world below too far to reach us, but this was the best way I could help.

With my words fortifying the strength and ferocity of the club and him as their leader.

I reached for the small orange container holding my preventative pills and shook two into the palm of my hand. Between the stress and lack of sleep, I could feel my eyes twitching with the beginning of a migraine. I needed to rest but set my alarm to sound in just four hours because today was going to be big and I needed to be present for Andy through it all.