Free Rooster: A Secret Baby Sports Romance by Abbey Foxx Page A

more.”
    “What a weird fucking coincidence”, I say.
    “You played well, especially for your first game”, she says.
    “Oh, you saw that?”
    Izzy holds up her entrance ticket. “Imagine my surprise when I found out who was on the roster. I thought it might be rude if I didn’t say hello.”
    “And here you are.”
    “And here I am”, she says. “Turns out you really are famous.”
    I smile.
    “I told you I was worth it”, I say.
    A moment passes while we take each other in, two former lovers who bumped hard in the night a year ago, now crossing the same orbit for the second time around. I thought this night couldn’t get any better, but here we are, a guaranteed fuck with my number one fan thrown into the bargain.
    “We need to talk”, Izzy says.
    I raise my eyebrows and smile. Even easier than it was last time. “I thought you’d never ask”, I say, already thinking about where the nearest alleyway might be.
     
    Four.
     
    Izzy
    Same intense stare, same solid arms, same cheeky smile. Oscar has that smile, and here it is again, the original version beaming down at me in all its glory.
    “I can’t believe you are here”, he says, arms in the air to draw out my form.
    “I live here”, I say. “If anything, I’m the one that should be surprised.”
    “You look good.”
    “I can’t believe you actually remember me”, I say.
    “Are you serious? No-one has ever made me feel like that, before or since. Plus, I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
    “Oh.”
    “There’s not much else to do in jail but think”, he says.
    “That’s very flattering, thank you.”
    Rory gulps at his pint but doesn’t keep his eyes off me.
    “So, have you come back for round two?” he asks.
    “You mean you haven’t found anyone else yet?” I ask.
    Rory shakes his head. “Real girls are thin on the ground.”
    “You might have to get used to that if you’ve signed a contract for a year”, I point out.
    “Don’t tell me you’ve moved on without me”, he says.
    “It has been a year.”
    “You were the one that ran away.”
    I shrug. “Holiday romance.”
    “Except I’m back now”, he says.
    “You don’t look like the type that likes to get serious”, I point out.
    “And you don’t look like the type that likes to fuck in back alleyways.”
    “Was it that good or are you that desperate?” I ask.
    “Like I said, I’ve been thinking about you a lot since I last saw you.”
    “Round two?”
    “For a start”, he says.
    I sip my beer, careful not to take my eyes off him. This is the first proper conversation I’ve ever had with the father of my child - which, by the way, is one of the strangest sentences I think I’ll ever say - and I don’t know where it’s going or where I want it to end up. Did I come here to tell Rory about his son? To get money? Because I’m lonely and the last time we bumped into each other it was good enough to make me come so hard the bricks on the wall behind me began to crumble?
    “You said you wanted to talk”, he says.
    “We didn’t really get a chance last time.”
    “Did you want to last time?”
    I shake my head. “No.”
    “But you do now?” he asks.
    “You do talk as well as fuck, right? I mean, that is part of your repertoire?”
    Rory leans back into his chair, a smile as wide as the crescent moon. For a man that plays a sport that actively encourages fighting, he has somehow maintained a perfect row of teeth.
    “I knew you were a real girl the moment I saw you”, he says, a bar mat in his hand to demonstrate his point.
    “How do you figure that?” I ask.
    “You’re not into all this theater and bullshit, you say it like it is.”
    My eyes drop to the table for a moment, while I think about the secret I’m hiding from him. I know the action will look humble, but I still feel bad about what I’m not saying and should. The thing is, I do have to play this the right way, or I’m going to risk everything and get nothing. Round two thrown