Sports Lovers: Friendship Chronicles, #7

Sports Lovers

Friendship Chronicles 7

Shelley Munro

Munro Press

Sports Lovers

Copyright © 2023 by Shelley Munro

Print ISBN: 978-1-99-106338-0

Digital ISBN: 978-0-9951395-9-6

Editor: Evil Eye Editing

Cover: Kim Killion, The Killion Group, Inc.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of a brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Munro Press, New Zealand.

First Munro Press electronic publication October 2021

First Munro Press print publication August 2023

Dedication

For Paul, my partner in crime and fellow adventurer.

I travel because I’d rather look back at my life, saying ‘I can’t believe I did that’ instead of ‘if only I had’.

– Florine Bos

Contents

Introduction

Note to Readers

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

About Author

Other Books by Shelley

Introduction

Ambition trumps love and romance, doesn’t it?

Holly sucks when it comes to choosing the perfect man, and at three duds for three, she’s turning her back on the dating game. Instead, she’ll embrace ambition, concentrate on her favored sport and her promise to her deceased mother—she’ll do her utmost to earn a place in New Zealand’s netball team, the Silver Ferns.

Burned by a rough divorce, rugby player Angus isn’t interested in anything but casual relationships. That’s until he meets Holly. With common mindsets, they’re perfect together, but Holly is running scared and refuses to see their potential.

Given his public persona, wooing isn’t something Angus usually needs to practice. With Holly, he’s willing to work for each passionate kiss. If only the real world and their romantic histories didn’t keep creating roadblocks…

You’ll love this sports romance because it contains a talented but man-shy heroine, an alpha hero with a playboy reputation, their tentative friendship, and enough exes coming out of the woodwork to create their own sports team. Go, Holly! Go, Angus!

Note to Readers

The sport of netball has a special place in my heart since I played the game during my school years and until my husband and I went overseas when I was in my early twenties. Games took place on Saturdays during the winter, while training occurred after school. I loved the game and played on the defensive end of the court since I was always taller than my friends. Both of my knees bear scars from falls because the surface we played on was unforgiving.

While netball might not be familiar to those in the United States, it has its roots in 1891 Springfield, Massachusetts, and basketball. The game arrived in the United Kingdom in 1895 and spread to countries like Australia, New Zealand, and the West Indies.

These days, netball is one of the sports played during the Commonwealth Games. It’s a popular sport, and young girls still play netball on winter Saturday mornings as I did.

For those interested in learning more about the game and its rules, visit NZ Netball. (www.netballnz.co.nz)

1

Her Sister’s Date

Holly Blackwood straightened from her slouch on the faded but comfy green chair. She nailed her older half-sister with a scowl. No way are you fixing me up with a blind date. Besides, I have training tomorrow morning. I want to rest tonight.

Brooke screwed up her pixy nose. She paced back and forth in front of the TV, her current fruity perfume reminding Holly of fresh pears wafting in the air. Are you sure?

Yes. Holly waved the TV remote in emphasis. Positive.

But Angus has friends—an entire rugby team of them.

Holly scowled harder and fervently wished she hadn’t answered the apartment door when her sister had shrieked that she’d left her key at work. It was just after six, and she was knackered, her muscles throbbing from fatigue. Their coach had pushed them at this afternoon’s netball training, and she was still recovering from the taxing session.

What? Brooke prodded when Holly remained silent. She released her blonde hair from its braid and finger-combed the long locks while regarding Holly with expectation. I’m sure Angus wouldn’t mind setting you up with one of his friends.

No! I’m done with rugby players. Bother, all she’d wanted was to watch a reality show and chill. "All right. All right. I’ll go to your party, but I don’t need to hang off a man’s arm while I’m there. I can stand on my own. Holly waggled a foot in her sister’s direction, offering positive size eleven proof of her ability to remain upright without aid. I have plenty of grip on the ground."

They took a moment to stare at Holly’s foot. It was long and narrow and sported a red-and-white striped sock. Her big toe stuck through a hole, showcasing her aquamarine nail. She tried to recall when she’d applied the polish. A month ago or longer?

Brooke sniffed in obvious disapproval. I’ll give you a pedicure tomorrow.

Maybe I’ll stay at home, Holly said quickly. To redo my nails. She should resent her older sister, a petite and shapely blonde with her bubbly manner. Brooke never had trouble making friends—the stereotypical social butterfly.

No, Brooke said, emphatic. "You’re turning into a hermit. Work and netball training. That’s all you do. Every day of the week. Please socialize, or I’ll have to field questions about your passing. You need to get over your trust issues. Not everyone is like that arsehole Craig."

Well, heck, that hadn’t worked. Not that she’d expected Brooke to cave. I’ve said I’d attend the party, and I will, but I’m not going on a date with anyone. My energy levels aren’t up to handling pawing hands or coping with a man who expects sex in exchange for his company. The social chitchat and getting-to-know-you stuff are stressful enough. Holly gave a theatrical shudder, which was only half pretense. Social occasions and all that sexual maneuvering brought her out in hives. She preferred straight talk and honesty every time.

You’d mellow if you got some, Brooke shot back.

That’s working out well for you. Aw, crap. She regretted the unthinking words the instant they left her mouth. I’m sorry, Brooke. I didn’t mean—

Brooke held up her hand, her expression no longer transparent and teasing. Sebastian and I are over, and I refuse to discuss him. Tonight, I intend to enjoy Angus’s company, and if we get on okay, a little recreational sex is just the thing to dropkick Seb to the past.

Holly kept her comments behind sealed lips. Brooke and Sebastian regularly called it quits, a scene replayed since their first date at high school. She’d given up trying to understand the dynamics of their relationship.

What should I wear? she asked in an about-face.

It was the perfect distraction. Brooke worked part-time on the makeup counter of an Auckland department store while completing her beauty therapy studies. During the rugby season, she was on the cheerleading squad for the Auckland Dragons. Her sister adored fashion.

Let’s check your wardrobe.

Holly heaved herself off the chair with a groan and limped after Brooke as her sister headed to the double bedroom they shared in their Newmarket apartment. Brooke flung open the wardrobe door. Holly’s half was sparse, with an emphasis on casual and comfortable. Sportswear.

Brooke rifled through Holly’s clothes. No. No. No. You’ll have to borrow something of mine.

What? Holly’s brows lifted. Although they were close in size, Holly had six inches on her sister at just under six feet. While the height gave her an advantage on the netball court, it didn’t make borrowing Brooke’s clothing easy.

Brooke frowned, then the lines magically cleared. I have just the thing. I’ll need to iron it first. You make dinner, and I’ll sort us out in the clothes department.

Holly sighed and limped to the kitchen. She opened the fridge to study the contents before pulling out vegetables to make a stir-fry. Hopefully, the outfit her sister had in mind was at least decent and didn’t show half her butt or expose most of her boobs. How soon could she escape this party? Sleep was what she craved, not a man or passionate sex.

How long was socially polite?

Music blared, a bouncy pop tune filling every corner of the private room at the pub. Shouts and laughter carried to where Angus O’Neil sat at a secluded table with his date, the lighting low and intimate. The perfect setting.

But instead of getting to know Brooke during this first date, Angus couldn’t keep his eyes off Brooke’s sister, Holly Blackwood. The woman in her figure-hugging black camisole top and matching black mini skirt danced with abandon, her body moving to the beat. The blonde was tall with Vegas showgirl legs, her moves on the dancefloor attracting more than his attention.

Angus forced himself to glance away and take a sip of his beer, but his single-track mind kept yammering about her naked, those sexy limbs twined around his hips while he fucked her.

Then there was his second favorite fantasy. Holly on her knees with that decadent red-painted mouth stretched around his cock, her blue eyes trained on his face. Oh yeah, it had been a busy night in Fantasy Land.

A problem since he was here at the party with Holly’s older sister.

But hell, the way Holly grooved on the dance floor gave a guy ideas.

His breath gusted out, and he shifted to ease the fit of his black trousers. While Brooke was a knockout, it had been Holly with her extra height who drew him. She’d grabbed his attention from their introduction with her incredible blue eyes and long honey-blonde hair. That hair he’d love to wrap around his fingers to control her mouth—

Mind out of the gutter, O’Neil.

He was here on a date with Holly’s sister—half-sister according to Brooke. Other guys might consider ditching a woman and pursuing another—he’d seen them in action—but he wasn’t that man.

Angus grabbed a bottle of beer and focused on the conversation around him. Sports-related since ninety-nine percent of the party attendees were part of the rugby scene—either player or cheerleader.

Brooke leaned closer. Her perfume was full of Oriental spices and reminded him of his grandmother’s apple pie—a sophisticated version, of course. Her breath warmed his ear, and that pushed his mind toward satin sheets. To his shame, the petite and curvy blonde wasn’t the woman spread-eagle and naked on the middle of the mattress in his daydream vision.

I’m off to the restroom, Brooke told him.

She drew back, flashed him a flirtatious smile, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

As a newcomer to the Auckland Dragons, he found the crowd welcoming, and with sports in common, conversation flowed easily. Joking and laughter rang out from throats lubricated with drinks. The sense of a job well done permeated the room since the Dragons had beaten the top-ranked Crows in front of a home crowd earlier in the day.

Great try, dude, a man he recognized as a prominent rugby league player said.

Thanks. He’d dotted down after intercepting the ball and running almost the length of the field. We had an excellent result today. It was a team effort.

Holly appeared flushed and attractive after dancing, her shiny blonde hair tousled and leading his thoughts straight to sex again. Was that how she’d look after lovemaking?

There was an empty seat beside him—Brooke’s seat.

Where’s Brooke? Holly visibly hesitated, studying him as if he might take a bite.

God, he’d love to suck her succulent flesh and leave a lover’s mark. Heat rushed through him, leaving him almost dizzy after the redirection of blood to his groin. He shook himself back to the party. Damn, his mind sailed in one direction tonight. He had it bad. She’s gone to the restrooms. Take her seat. I’m sure she won’t mind. Here’s your drink. I’ve kept an eye on it for you.

After wavering for another beat, she dropped onto the wooden chair. Her weight shifted until she perched like a bird prepared to take off at the first hint of danger. Angus wanted to smile but worried he’d resemble the predator that stalked through his mind.

If anyone had informed him this morning he’d have an urgent and instant reaction to a woman, he would’ve called bullshit.

No denying it now. Her scent washed over him—an old-fashioned lavender with a hint of orange. Another interesting contrast between the sisters since Brooke’s perfume reeked of sophistication.

Aware of his understated—okay, not so subtle observation—she swallowed and fanned her face. Without taking his attention from her, he handed over her wine. She took a healthy swig, knocking back the remains.

Her gaze darted to him, and she gave a breathless laugh. It’s hot on the dance floor.

Her chuckle, husky and low, rocked him and had his body reacting yet again. This time he was the one to swallow. Want some of my beer?

Yuck, disgusting. Beer is only good for bread. My mother makes fantastic beer bread. She paused, took a quick breath, and Angus couldn’t fail to notice the rise and fall of her breasts. Ah…I hear the Dragons had a win today.

Yeah. She was aware of him too. Interesting. It’s great to have a win on the board after our last loss in Australia. He didn’t want to talk rugby, not when his curiosity centered on learning more about Holly Blackwood. Are you a cheerleader like your sister?

Me? Astonishment, chased swiftly by amusement, sparkled in her blue eyes. A dimple flashed at the right corner of her mouth, charming him. No way.

So, what do you do?

I work for a bank, and in my spare time, I play netball for the Blue Dynamos.

Her words made him scrutinize her with even greater interest. Everything he uncovered about her fascinated him more. How long have you been playing for them?

This is my first season. She flashed him a proud grin, passion for her sport shining in her features. Still can’t believe I made the squad. I have to keep pinching myself.

What position do you play?

Defense—goal keep and goal defense mainly, but I’ve played on the wing too.

He noted she relaxed once she talked about netball. Are you in the starting team?

I was last week. Her dimple blinked into prominence again.

He nodded, understanding the thrill of making the top team. My sister used to play netball before she had kids. She played at the attack end of the court—on the wing.

You know netball? Holly glanced at the table and pointed at the jug of margarita mix and the half-full glass. Is that Brooke’s?

Yup. I don’t know what’s happened to her.

Not that he was worried about his date’s absence. He was positive Brooke recognized the lack of spark between them too. While he liked Brooke and her open manner, they’d make much better friends than lovers.

Angus smiled at Holly and took pleasure in the slight widening of her blue eyes. I used to watch my sister train. My rugby practice finished earlier than her netball, so I’d end up waiting. Let me see. He pretended to ponder when he knew the game backward. Knowledge of netball and attending a game or two worked great for a guy wanting to meet the opposite sex. All those short uniforms and long legs didn’t hurt either. There are seven players per team. The court is divided into thirds, and the object is to score the most goals. A goal is worth one point. Each player position is only allowed in part of the court, and the ball is thrown from player to player to travel the court. There—how’d I do?

Holly sipped her sister’s drink. You do know more than the average person.

That’s what I’ve been telling you. When is your next game?

We have a game on Monday night. The coach picks on form every week. Hopefully, I’ve done enough to make the team.

A note of apprehension slipped into her expression, a feeling he understood all too well. No player showcased their skill by watching from the sideline. How much training do you do?

I run every morning, and we have— She glanced over his shoulder, her faint smile fading abruptly.

He followed her gaze and couldn’t see anything to promote her reaction. What’s wrong?

Brooke is dancing with Sebastian.

Who’s Sebastian?

Brooke’s ex. They broke up last week.

Angus twisted on his chair to face the dance floor. His brows rose. They’re not together anymore?