Sports in the Parker - yes, I'm a girl who still plays sports

The confrontation

My alarm went off at 9 o'clock, the closest I ever got to a Sunday morning lie in. But I was already awake, and didn't know what to do.

Dylan was still in my bed. Having him round last night seemed like a great idea, and, don't get me wrong, it was very enjoyable, but it was a massive mistake. This categorically was the wrong way to do things. I still wanted things to be civil between me and Shane, especially as I was his captain... We could hardly be on the same team if things were going to be massively uncomfortable.

And if Shane found out about what had happened between Dylan and I, civil is one thing I could guarantee it would not be.

Dylan began to stir because of my alarm.

"What is that going off for?" he muttered.

"I have training in two hours."

He looked and me and squinted, then his eyes opened wide, clearly remembering last night.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

We sat in silence for a while.

"I had a good time last night." he said, moving closer towards me.

"It can't happen again. It was a good night but that's all it can be."

"Fine. I've still got your number, you've got mine. Maybe when you finally get over that douchebag we can have some more fun."

"Maybe. You can see yourself out. Don't tell Jeremy, I don't need Jen on my back."

He nodded, pulled his clothes back on and left, carefully shutting my door behind him.

Shane. Bloody Shane. Even when we weren't together, even when I had no reason to consider him and his feelings, he still controlled me. Realistically, Shane and I hadn't been properly together since America. We hadn't spent a night together in Oxford like Dylan and I had. I didn't even really care what Shane thought about it, because it was none of his business. But I knew Shane's temper, and if he found out, as good as I might feel in the moment watch him be crushed, it would only come back to bite me in the arse.

It was absolutely none of his business. What I did now had nothing to do with him, and the fact that he still had this hold over me was really grating. I wasn't his. I didn't want to be his. He didn't really want me to be his. But still I considered his reaction before doing anything, and it pissed me off.

And even though he wasn't there I wished there was some way for me to prove that I was my own person.

There was a knock on my bedroom door, just when I moved out of my bed to get in the shower.

I opened it, and Dylan barged back in.

"Fuck him. Don't worry about him. Let's go for round two."

His smirk drove me over the edge.

"Let's go. But be quick, I've got better things to do."

"Oh Kelly," he said, pulling his top over his head. "You know that's not true."

We fell back into bed, and relieved what we'd done the night before.

By the time we finished, I had 20 minutes to get ready and get onto the pitch.

I jumped out of bed, leaving Dylan to his own devices, and had the fastest shower of my life. By the time I emerged 10 minutes later, I was dressed and ready to go.

"Do you have to leave?"

Dylan was still in my bed, and showed no signs of moving any time soon.