Against The Run Of Play

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AGAINST THE RUN OF PLAY (Viva City FC Books #2)

Soccer player and reformed bad boy, Asher Uzodimma, is struggling through a challenging season. Due to a string of injuries, he finds himself relegated to the bench during crucial games as his team battles for promotion into the league’s top division. Frustrated, he falls back on some old habits and escapes to find solace where he encounters the vibrant Vivi. She has zero interest in celebrities. Yet, spending only two days with her brings a sense of calm and stability back into his life. She possesses all the qualities he never realised he desired in a woman, and his yearning to be in her presence grows stronger with each passing day. Nevertheless, when he finally learns her full identity, she quickly becomes the last woman anyone wants for him.

Vivacious and fun-loving Vivi Osondu is currently in seclusion after the highly publicised end to her turbulent relationship. She needs a break to reevaluate her life and dedicate time to self-reflection. Meeting Asher brings back her laughter, which had been missing for months, and each time she lays eyes on him, her stomach fills with a delightful sense of excitement. However, he’s part of the famous crowd, and she’s made a conscious decision to steer clear of that world, so she chooses to walk away. But Asher is determined to turn the game around both on and off the pitch, against the run of play.

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EXCERPT:

I see a flash of colour—fuchsia—and turn instinctively towards it. But I lose it in the crowd.

My heart is racing, my skin hot. Could it be her? Vivi. Is she here?

“Mum, I think I spotted someone I need to speak to. Do you mind?”

“No. It’s okay. I need to use the ladies, anyway. I’ll meet you back at the table.”

“Okay.”

I direct her towards the signs for the ladies and keep glancing around. But I can’t see anyone wearing the bright purple/red colour I spotted earlier. Then I head down the corridor leading to the foyer, thinking she might have gone outside.

My heart stops as I halt. Then it slams into my chest.

A woman stands in the foyer talking on her phone. Her back is to me, but I recognise her figure, her voice.

Vivi is here. I don’t know how it’s possible. I mean, I know she lives in London and she works as a sportswriter. But to be here at this very moment feels like serendipity. Like destiny.

My senses heighten, and my vision clarifies. I was buzzing when I arrived. But now, it feels like I’ve been struck by lightning and energy surges through me. It transports me to that first night I saw her in the sports bar. I zoom in on her.

She’s in an off-shoulder, ruffle collar, boho maxi dress that shows off the glowing brown skin of her shoulders and arms and skims her curves. It’s sexy without being vulgar. Her strappy stilettoes match her purse tucked under her arm.

Her hair is different. In Zanzibar, her hair had loose curls and streaks of colour. This looks too dark, long and straight and almost to her butt. Perhaps a wig or weave, just like my sisters wear sometimes.

Her voice is a melody that draws me closer, and I can’t resist the pull. I walk past the people around me as if they are obstacles and challenges I must conquer to reach my goal—Vivi. Adrenaline charges over me. I’m on the field in a crucial match, and I’m running toward the goal line to score before the final whistle.

As if she senses me, she swivels, and I know I’m not dreaming because her face lights up with a beautiful smile. Warmth and ecstasy spread through me. I want to touch her smooth skin, to kiss her full lips a shade darker than her dress. Her irises are a mesmerising bronze. There are layers of colours on her eyelids and cheeks, contouring her face. It’s more makeup than she had on the island.

But I recognise the woman underneath. I remember the natural tone of her skin first thing in the morning. The softness of her curves against me. Every cell in my body wants to be connected to her.

“My Lady in Fuchsia,” I whisper huskily as if I’ve just sprinted to her, remembering the note I wrote her over a month ago.

“I have to go now,” she says to whoever is on the line and lowers her phone. “Asher.”

The sound of my name from her lips is breathy and inviting. I almost forget where I am as I step closer.

“It’s good to see you.” She doesn’t know how much. I can barely control my joy at seeing her. I know I’m grinning like a fool. “You look amazing.”

I can’t hide the awe in my voice. I don’t want to hide it. I want her to know exactly how she makes me feel.