Rookie (Playing The Field Book 2)

  Rookie

  Playing The Field #2

  Copyright © 2021 by Rebecca Barber. All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: June 2021

  Cover Designed: KatDeezigns 2021

  Formatting: DL Gallie

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  1. Claire

  2. Seth

  3. Claire

  4. Seth

  5. Claire

  6. Seth

  7. Claire

  8. Seth

  9. Claire

  10. Seth

  11. Claire

  12. Seth

  13. Claire

  14. Seth

  15. Claire

  16. Seth

  17. Claire

  18. Seth

  19. Claire

  20. Seth

  21. Claire

  22. Seth

  23. Claire

  24. Seth

  25. Claire

  26. Seth

  27. Claire

  28. Seth

  29. Claire

  30. Seth

  31. Claire

  32. Seth

  33. Claire

  34. Seth

  35. Claire

  36. Seth

  37. Claire

  38. Seth

  39. Claire

  40. Seth

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Can’t get enough?

  Also by Rebecca

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Stay Connected with Rebecca

  For my dad.

  You were my person.

  You believed in me. Encouraged me. And always had my back.

  You might be gone but you’re never forgotten.

  1

  Claire

  With Foo Fighters, ‘Monkey Wrench’ blasting in my ears, I ran down the beach watching the sun rise over the water. At least that was the politically correct line. The truth was, I was watching the surfers bounce around on the waves like shark bait.

  Pushing the hair from my face, I reached back and tightened my ponytail as I focused on my breathing.

  There was one surfer, at least he was trying to be a surfer drifting away from the others that caught my eye. Maybe it was the fact he was alone out there. Or maybe it was because, unlike the others, he wasn’t wearing the standard black wetsuit and instead wore lime green board shorts hanging low on his narrow hips. More than likely though, it was the way he wobbled about on his board, unstable and off-balance – obviously a beginner.

  The song ended, and I picked up my pace. ‘Eye of the Tiger’ was pumping, and I pushed myself harder. I needed to get to the end of the beach, turn around, and back to the car in the next half hour and I was already pushing it for time. I couldn’t afford to be late again today. My boss, the hard-arse bitch, hadn’t been too happy last time I’d been late, I wasn’t about to risk it again. I don’t know what her problem was, it wasn’t like people needed their hair done at eight on a Wednesday morning, but since I was just the apprentice, what the hell would I know.

  Looking up, I saw a wave rolling in and watched as the crowd of surfers turned and started paddling. It fascinated me. One minute they were sitting there calm and serene then next thing, as the set rolled in, they were lying down and preparing to take on the wave. Green shorts surfer boy saw what they were doing and copied. When the wave picked him up and started to carry him to the shore, he leapt to his feet, arms spread wide, trying to hold his balance. My steps faltered, as I watched him my steps came to a grinding halt.

  Seven seconds.

  I counted.

  Seven seconds he’d managed to stay on his feet before he wobbled again and the whitewash of the breaker swallowed him.

  With my hands on my knees, I sucked in a deep breath and held it, praying his head would pop up. It’s why I didn’t surf, much to my brother’s disgust. Isaac was probably one of the idiots out there right now showing off. He was most mornings.

  When Surfer Boy popped up, he shook his hair like a dog before tucking his board under his arm and headed back out again. It wasn’t until he was knee-deep that I felt like I could breathe again.

  Reaching the end of the beach, I spun around and stretched out the tightness in my shoulders, adjusted the sports bra that was creeping up under my tank top, and plucked my wedgie out of my butt, hoping no one had seen.

  Resetting my playlist, I waited until the beat started and headed for home. If I moved my arse, I’d have time to stop at the coffee shop on my way and grab breakfast before I headed to the salon.

  I’d been running for two minutes when Surfer Boy caught a wave that I knew, even as a non-surfer, was way too intense for a novice to be attempting. Especially on this beach. While looking stunning, this beach was notorious for rip tides that dragged swimmers towards the jagged rocks that wrapped around the headland.

  I watched him stand up.

  I watched him wipe out.

  I didn’t watch him bounce back up.

  Tugging the earbuds out of my ears, I bent down resting my hands on my knees, and started sucking in the deep breaths. My eyes didn’t leave his board that was being tossed and turned in the waves as they rolled through, but still he didn’t surface.

  “He hasn’t come back up,” someone stated obviously beside me.

  Turning, I saw another woman, probably double my age standing there looking like she’d just stepped off the set of a photoshoot. She had bright pink lipstick stained on her lips and her teeth, her hair was curled and pulled back in a wide-toothed silver clip, and she wore the shortest shorts I’d ever seen, with a top that had less material than a napkin.

  Yanking my phone from my pocket, I toed off my shoes and dropped them to the sand. There was still no sight of Surfer Boy, and I wasn’t going anywhere until he reappeared. Leaving my stuff where I was, I jogged towards the water, wading in until I was up to my knees.

  Spotting him bobbing on the waves, I pushed further into the water, my eyes unblinking. Why wasn’t he standing up? When his board was flung back and knocked against him, but he didn’t flinch, I realised just how much trouble he was in. He wasn’t moving and that wasn’t a good sign. Actually, it was a really fucking bad sign.

  Turning back to the shore, I yelled at Beach Barbie to call for help as I duck-dived under the breakers determined to get to him. The water wasn’t warm. Sure, it might’ve been February in Sydney, but it wasn’t exactly warm out there. With adrenaline pumping in my veins, I swam as hard as I could towards where he was floating.

  When he was close enough to reach, I was relieved to find he was at least floating on his back, but he was out cold. When his board bounced and smacked me in the elbow, sending shooting pain through my arm, I ignored it and pressed on. Nothing was going to stop me from helping him right now. Reaching out, I went to grab his arm but a wave crashed over us, causing him to drift away from me.

  “Come on.” I fought against the current this time, managing to grab hold of him.

  He’d been cute from where I’d been ogling him from the beach, but he was even better up close. His jaw was covered in stubble, which could’ve been the beginnings of a beard that he didn
’t look old enough to grow. His chocolate brown hair was too long and covered his eyes. His arms, the one I had hold of had some of the best arm porn I’d ever seen. But now wasn’t the time to be drooling over the poor guy. He was knocked out cold, floating on the Pacific Ocean about to get dumped by the set of waves rolling in.

  Using his board, I draped him over it, wrapped my arm around his waist ignoring the electricity that crackled between us, and tried to guide us towards the shore.

  It wasn’t easy. And I was definitely not a lifeguard, but by the time a couple of guys caught up, I’d managed to drag him out of danger and into the shallows. While they picked him up, slinging his arms over their shoulders, I quickly untied the rope keeping him anchored to his board and carried it in.

  Following them up the beach, I could hear sirens in the distance and Beach Barbie gossiping on her phone. Ignoring everything, I moved to where they’d laid him on the wet sand and were giving him mouth to mouth. He had to be okay, he just had to.

  “Come on, mate,” one of the guys said as he pushed his hands into the centre of his chest.

  “Anything?”

  Before he could answer there was a cough. A cough, followed by a splutter followed by a spew. They rolled him onto his side and just in time for him to purge all the saltwater he’d swallowed.

  With one of the guys patting his back, I slumped down on the sand, relieved. He was going to be fine. He might not be joining the pro surfing tour any time soon, but he was going to live. Thank Christ.

  Even while he was spluttering and squinting as he looked around, confused, I admired his body. He was lean and tanned and had abs I wanted to lick the water off. He was everything I’d never wanted in a guy, but damn…shame I had to meet him while he was unconscious. Did that even count? Was it even a meeting if he wasn’t able to say hi?

  With a shake of my head, I turned and headed back to where I’d left my stuff. The excitement was over. I needed to get moving or I was going to be in a whole load of trouble I wasn’t in the mood to deal with.

  Stuffing my feet in my wet shoes, I ignored the squelching. Wearing wet clothes wasn’t my idea of fun, especially when I still had two-thirds of a beach to run before I made it back to my car, but it is what it is. It wasn’t like I could change it. I wouldn’t.

  “Wait up!” A raspy, strained voice called out to me as I turned and headed home.

  Spinning around, I saw Surfer Boy coming towards me. Seeing him up and walking made my heart soar. If he was up and chasing after me, not that I understood why, it meant he wasn’t too badly damaged. Judging by the red in his cheeks, probably more embarrassed than anything.

  “You’re okay.” I smiled as he came to a halt in front of me.

  “I am. Thanks to you.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I replied. Now I was the one feeling embarrassed.

  “Yeah, nice try. Those guys…”

  “They’re the ones who carried you out and did CPR.”

  “And you’re the one who saw me and got me to the shore. The lady over there told me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Look, I don’t want to harass you, I just wanted to say thanks. You saved my life.”

  “You’re welcome.” I wasn’t used to accepting praise. I rarely got compliments, so they made me uncomfortable, but by the determined look in his jade green eyes, he wasn’t going to let it go.

  For a moment he stood there looking awkward and instead of making him look like a tool, it just made him even more adorable. Like a puppy I wanted to take home.

  “I’m really glad you’re okay, but I have to go. I’ve gotta get to work, and I probably need a shower first,” I blabbed. Why couldn’t I be normal and just say thanks and see you later? Oh wait, that was what normal people did. People who actually understood how human interactions worked.

  “Yeah, no worries. Will I see you here tomorrow?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

  “Possibly,” I answered evasively when the truth was, if you’re here then I’m more than happy to keep running along the beach staring at your abs all day.

  “Well, hopefully I’ll see you then.”

  “Maybe.”

  Needing to get out of there before I made an even bigger fool of myself, I turned in the sand and headed towards my car. Breakfast wasn’t an option anymore, but I needed a shower and a change of clothes as soon as possible. The last thing I wanted to do was walk around in soggy underwear all day.

  “Hey!” he called again.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m Seth, by the way.”

  “Claire,” I replied, unable to stop myself from smiling.

  “Nice to meet you, Claire. Catch you tomorrow.” With a wink he turned and walked away, leaving me with my heart racing and my brain whirling. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to arrive.

  2

  Seth

  Watching her walk away was hard. Like really, really hard. Hard enough that I couldn’t hide the way my boardies were tenting in the front as my eyes stayed glued to her arse in those skin-tight, water-soaked tights. I’d always considered myself a boob man, but watching her peach-shaped arse bounce as she jogged down the beach had me reconsidering everything I knew.

  As much as I wanted to watch her for as long as I could, people were already staring. The last thing I needed was them thinking I was some kind of creeper. Heading back to where my board had been left on the sand, I tucked it under my arm, grabbed my stuff, and headed for home. I’d had enough excitement for one day. I wasn’t sure I’d survive much more.

  Sliding my feet into my thongs, I walked through the car park staring at the ground beneath my feet. Almost drowning hadn’t been fun. In fact, it’d been downright terrifying. Especially since everything happened so quickly. One second I was standing up, for the first time I was standing to my full height, then next thing I know I was caught in the wash, being tossed around like I was in a washing machine. I remember kicking my legs, trying to get to the surface as my lungs screamed for air. I remember swallowing the water. So much saltwater, then my board had bounced around and bashed me on the head. Everything after that became a little hazy.

  The next thing I knew there was a guy I’d never seen before hovering over me, his mouth wide as he ducked his head coming towards me. Once I’d coughed up all the sand and water I’d swallowed, I managed to ask what happened. That’s when they explained that the chick with the best arse I’d seen in years had swum out and saved me. I almost choked again, this time on my own tongue.

  “Which chick?” I asked as I sat up, my head spinning.

  “That one.” One of the guys who’d helped me pointed out a girl who looked like she was still in her clothes, soaked head to toe and a little cold.

  Scrambling to my feet, I shook their hand, thanked them again and took off after her. If she was responsible for saving my life then I needed to say thank you. It was who I was. Who my mum raised me to be. She’d kick my arse all the way back to Melbourne if she knew I didn’t use my manners. Actually, she’d probably kick my arse anyway if she found out I’d almost drowned trying to learn to surf.

  “Wait up!” I’d called out.

  My throat was scratchy and sore, probably from the amount of saltwater I’d gargled in the last twenty minutes.

  When she stopped and turned towards me, I gulped deeply. While her arse was pure perfection, from the front she was just as good. Her long blonde hair hung limply over her shoulders stopping just above her tits, and I’d never been more thankful. Nothing should ever block them from view. They were the perfect, perky handful and my hands itched to touch them. The way her tank top clung to her like a second skin had my cock coming back to life. But it was her ice blue eyes that did me in. They were the most incredible shade of electric blue and filled with something I didn’t quite understand, but damn did I want to.

  Every word that stumbled out of my mouth was clumsy and dumb. I don’t think it was actually possible to make myself look much more like a loser if I�
�d tried.

  A horn blasted behind me, and I moved further onto the shoulder of the road. I don’t know if it was the surfing, the almost drowning or running into the future Mrs Masters on the beach, but I was beyond exhausted, and I hadn’t even had breakfast yet.

  Turning into the driveway, I leant my board up against the house and headed around the back. All I could think about was a hot shower, some food, and a quick nap before I headed to training. But when Elise waved at me through the kitchen window my plans were shot to shit.

  “Join us for breakfast?” she sung out chirpily.

  “Let me just grab a quick shower, and I’ll be in,” I replied.

  “No worries. But Luca’s cooking bacon, eggs, and waffles so…”

  “So, I better get my arse moving before you eat the lot?” I finished for her, earning me a giant grin as I stepped into the laundry and headed up the back steps to my bathroom.

  Luca Conti was my coach, and Elise his fiancée. When I’d been recruited for the Sydney-based team, I signed on the dotted line before I even thought about what it would mean. I knew exactly two people in Sydney. My brother and his girlfriend. But they lived over an hour away from my new club base and navigating Sydney’s traffic each day was the last thing I wanted to do. Thankfully, Coach must’ve felt sorry for me and offered me his spare room until I found my feet. That was four weeks ago, and I never wanted to move out.