Page 12

Ellie

M eeting Colin’s father was the reality check I needed.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen when we inevitably had to meet, but I didn’t think he would treat me like a walking plague victim. I mean, surely, he knew that I’d been chosen to write the article, right? But seeing as Colin had to explain it to him and the disdain on his face only seemed to grow every time he looked at me, it’s painfully obvious he didn’t. It made me uncomfortable; I won’t lie or pretend otherwise, which is exactly why I practically sprinted out of there as soon as the practice was over, but as harsh and unpleasant as it was, it was also necessary in a way. I was entertaining careless thoughts about Colin I shouldn’t have entertained in the first place. I was letting myself slip and I needed something to remind me why I’m doing this and what my main goal is. I just hope Kenneth Hunt won’t feel the need to ‘remind’ me every time we’re within proximity to each other or the next couple of months are going to be a tad awkward.

Aside from that one glaring hiccup though, the rest of the practice went off without any problems and despite the lengthy two hours, I found I actually enjoyed myself. With every observation I jotted down and picture I snapped of Colin training with his teammates, I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly they all move and play together. I saw it on Friday during the game as well, but while that was serious and driven, a light-hearted comradery seemed to hang in the air now and by the time they walked off the field together, sweaty and exhausted (and shirtless by the way), but smiling from ear to ear, that connection only seemed stronger than it was before. I must’ve seen and heard Colin laugh at least a dozen times.

What was even more surprising, however, was discovering how strained things are between him and his father.

At first, I was convinced I was the reason for it, but quickly realised I was wrong (or partially wrong at least) after I saw the conversation they had once I’d scampered away to the safety of the stands like a scolded puppy. I was too far away so I couldn’t hear what they said to each other, but whatever it was, it wasn’t friendly. The tension between them was unexpected, especially since the impression I’d got while doing some research on Colin was that Kenneth Hunt was something of an idol to his three sons, which made sense. He had a stellar club rugby career, still holds the record for scoring one of the fastest tries for the British and Irish Lions and he was part of England’s 2003 squad who won the Rugby World Cup. He played with Jonny Wilkinson, one of the greatest fly-half’s to ever exist, for crying out loud! So naturally, he’d be a huge inspiration, not only to his children but to dozens of kids who love playing rugby, but whenever I saw aggravation or self-doubt flash on Colin’s face, it seemed to be as a direct result of something his dad said or did mere seconds beforehand.

He thinks you’re going to distract me.

Is that what they were fighting about?

Is that why his dad doesn’t like me ?

I didn’t want to overthink it, but I can’t for the life of me believe that his dad believes I’d wedge myself into Colin’s life and steer him away from his career as a professional rugby player.

Normally I’d be flattered, but in this case, I find the idea almost laughable.

I mean, I know I’m pretty, but compared to some of the girls I’ve seen Colin and his teammates pictured with, I look about as threatening to his future as a kitten. One girl in particular, Kiera Blake, makes me look like I come from an entirely different species of ‘female’ with her luscious caramel hair, creamy skin, sultry brown eyes, perfect heart-shaped face and slim, model-like body. When I saw a photo of her glued to Colin’s side, smacking a kiss against his cheek with her arms looped around his neck, I had to swallow back the unexpected wave of possessive jealousy that flared up, only to end up berating myself because, for the hundredth bloody time, he isn’t my boyfriend. At least the photo looked old given that Colin’s hair was styled differently so, I guess that’s a silver lining of sorts. Still, nothing works as a more effective reality check than seeing someone’s ‘type’ and realising you’re not part of that category. No matter how hard it is to digest .

I’m nothing like Keira Blake.

I never will be.

I’m not what he wants.

As things currently stand, Colin and I are bordering on being friends and I’m not delusional enough to think he wouldn’t have a plethora of girls drooling and tripping all over him. The man’s a rugby god and a walking doppelganger of Paul Walker.

Literally .

Yes, he may feel some level of attraction towards me, but when he has girls like Keira Blake hanging around, I’m one hundred per cent sure I won’t end up being the ‘distraction’ his dad is so concerned about. Not that that’s stopped me from glancing at our last conversation, or more specifically, at one message.

I think you know why, Simpkins.

My stomach tightens and I sink my teeth into my lower lip as I read those five words again. They’re ambiguous enough that they could mean anything, but coming from him they likely mean; He thinks you’re going to distract me because I like you and you like me. The fact that I’m even thinking like that is exactly why, despite his constant attempts to try and see me, I’ve been avoiding Colin since Monday, hiding behind the lame excuse of having a heavy assignment workload, but I can’t keep that up forever.

Do I even want to?

I’m still pondering that very question when a handful of popcorn suddenly hits me on the nose and all over my face. I blink out of my thoughts at once, aiming a startled look towards the opposite end of the sofa where Liv is sitting.

Crap.

“Was just checking to make sure you’re still with us over there.”

I narrow my eyes slightly, brushing the pieces of popcorn off my lap and popping a few into my mouth. “And where else would I be exactly?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Liv’s brown eyes glint with humour, “I’ve had the movie paused during your favourite scene for like the last ten minutes and you haven’t even noticed. ”

My gaze jerks over to the TV where it is indeed paused during my favourite scene from the 2015 adaptation of Far from The Madding Crowd. The one where Bathsheba helps Gabriel protect the harvest during a thunderstorm.

“Oh, uh…sorry,” I murmur, rubbing the one side of my face, “I was just…thinking about something.”

Or someone, actually.

“Understatement of the century, obviously.” Despite her teasing tone, Liv straightens, concern knitting her eyebrows together a second later, “Is everything okay though?”

I nod, offering her a smile which isn’t nearly as forced as I was worried it would be. “I’m fine. Just have a lot on my plate with assignments and the article.”

“I know silly, that’s why I suggested you should take a break and watch a movie with me, remember?”

I breathe out a light chuckle. “Right. Sorry.”

It’s Thursday night which means it’s just the two of us with Natalie working a double shift at the fancy restaurant in Craigavon where she’s doing her internship and while I may have chalked it up as a lame excuse earlier, I actually have been buried up to my neck in assignments and research for the article just lately. I planned on doing more work tonight, but Liv cornered me and convinced me, with very little effort I might add, to take a break which is exactly how I ended up on the sofa in my yoga pants and my favourite oversized Snow Patrol pullover, swooning with her over Matthias Schoenaerts’ portrayal of Gabriel Oak.

Until I started thinking about Colin again.

“Wait,” Liv says, “This wouldn’t have something to do with that dishy rugby player of yours, would it?”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek .

I swear she’s psychic sometimes.

“Well, actually –”

“– Oh my god! it does, doesn’t it?”

I want to deny it, but I know Liv and more importantly, she knows me. Lying to her is a pointless exercise. One way or another she always manages to read me like an open book and extract the truth. So, I meet her eyes and nod, already bracing myself for the loud squeal that erupts from her a second later.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Beaming happily, she bounces onto her knees, crowding even closer to me on the sofa, “So what happened? Did you kiss again? Did you shag? Because, oh my god, if you shagged, I’m going to need all the –”

“Whoa, whoa slow down!” I cut her off with a laugh. “We haven’t kissed again and we definitely haven’t shagged,” I tell her, fighting hard not to giggle again when her face immediately falls with disappointment. I gnaw on the corner of my lip, twisting my fingers together, “I kind of want to though.”

“Well duh, you’d have to be blind or a lesbian not to want to climb that man like a tree. You obviously aren’t blind and you definitely aren’t a lesbian, so why are you hesitating?”

Why?

God, there are so many reasons why and, unfortunately, none of them have been terribly convincing so far.

“Well, wouldn’t it be unprofessional as a start?”

Liv waves that excuse off with a simple flick of her wrist. “Who cares about being professional? We’re in university, Ellie! You’re both young. You’re both single and attractive, shagging each other’s brains out is just a natural reaction to that. You can worry abou t being professional later when you’re older and a published author.”

I level her with a look.

“First of all, I’m not ‘shagging’ anyone’s brains out or do I need to remind you that I’m not exactly the most experienced person out there when it comes to that, and secondly, apart from it being unprofessional I just…” I trail off, burying my face into my hands when I struggle to think of what to say.

For someone who wants to be a writer one day, I suck at articulating myself sometimes.

It’s not that I have a problem admitting that I like Colin. I think it’s fairly obvious that I do at this point, but I am scared of what admitting it might lead to.

What if he doesn’t like me back?

Okay, that’s stupid.

I already know he does. I’d have to be massively in denial to think otherwise, but what if he only wants a quick one-night stand or something purely casual? Even if I was interested in something like that (which, just for the record, I definitely am not) I’m certain Colin would be disappointed to discover I have about as much experience in the sex department as a rock.

But what if he does want something more?

That’s the outcome I’d be most comfortable with, to be honest, but after everything with Marco…

God, Marco.

Yet another problem glaring me in the face and another reason for me to question how I’m feeling right now. I’ve been putting on a brave face since our break-up, but I still haven’t healed from it yet. Especially after that absurd argument outside the stadium the other night and the fact that he’s been trying to call me lately. God, only knows why .

When I don’t say anything, Liv touches my back.

“You just what?” She asks gently.

I release a defeated sigh, about to voice all of that to her when a knock on the front door sounds out of nowhere. Liv and I both jump in our seats, our heads snapping up at the same time.

“Did you order food or something?” I ask quietly.

Liv shakes her head. “Nat made us dinner before she left for work so we wouldn’t have to.”

We look at each other, frowning with suspicion and mild alarm.

If no one ordered food then who’s knocking on our door?

“You didn’t invite a guy over again, did you?” I whisper, “Because so help me if I’m about to be subjected to another surprise nude show –”

“– Oh my God, that happened once and I already said I was sorry,” Liv hisses back, “And just so we’re clear, I didn’t invite that idiot over. I had no idea he was even coming so I was just as shocked as you were, okay!”

I snicker under my breath, recalling the time when one of her ‘boyfriends’ showed up out of the blue wearing a trench coat with nothing on underneath. Liv was so mortified when she found him standing in front of Natalie and me, completely butt-naked, that she just about chewed his head off before proceeding to push him out the front door without bothering to give him his coat back. That happened almost a year ago now, but Nat and I still love to tease her about it.

Another knock reverberates through the house, recapturing my attention.

I gulp .

“Maybe if we stay quiet whoever it is will go away.” I eye the general direction of the front door nervously, but Liv lets out a hefty sigh, climbing off the sofa. I shoot forward quickly, grabbing her by the arm.

“Wait! What if it’s a serial killer or something?”

“A serial killer? Not likely. It could be Santa Clause, though he is a tad early.” I toss her an unamused look, not appreciating her sarcasm, but she just smirks, rolling her eyes in response. “It’s probably someone who’s lost or has the wrong address, but if it does turn out to be a serial killer I promise I’ll kick them in the balls, alright?”

Despite my reservations, a smile curls on my mouth.

I suppose she has a point. The chances of it being a serial killer are incredibly slim and she can take care of herself, though I haven’t seen her kick anyone in the balls just yet.

“Fine.” I relent, letting her go.

As soon as she disappears around the corner, I stand and make my way into the kitchen, taking out the various Tupperware’s of food from the fridge which Nat left for us containing everything we need to make homemade quesadillas. I’ve just finished warming the pieces of chicken and fajita vegetables, when Liv appears in the entranceway to the kitchen, completely unharmed.

Thank God.

“Guessing it wasn’t a serial killer then?”

“Nope,” She grins widely, “But I think you’ll like who it was instead.”

My eyes narrow at her impish tone, but I don’t get a chance to question her any further before Colin steps into view behind her, lips quirked with his signature smile. My jaw drops, practically cluttering t o the floor along with the wooden spoon I’m holding in my hands.

Oh my God.

He’s here…In my house.

What the hell?

I blink and without even realising what I’m doing at first, I cross the distance between us with purposeful strides and latch onto one of his corded forearms, tugging him upstairs behind me. Far away from Liv and her teasing, ecstatic gaze.

“Remember, no love without a glove you two!” She yells after us.

I close my eyes, my cheeks flooding with warmth.

God Olivia. I’m going to kill her.

Hopefully, Colin can’t see my burning, tomato-red face right now, but I can sense his amusement and feel his gaze lingering on me until we finally reach my bedroom. I pull him inside and close the door behind us, rounding on him quickly.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

He chuckles, bright blue eyes twinkling with pure delight. “Lovely to see you as well, Simpkins.”

My gaze narrows.

Okay, maybe I’m being a bit rude, but in my defence, the last thing I expected to happen tonight was Colin Hunt showing up at my door unannounced. I fold my arms across my chest, suddenly self-conscious of my comfy, but decidedly unattractive outfit.

“That’s not an answer,” I tell him.

The corner of his mouth lifts and he slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans, taking in the confines of my bedroom, including my discarded clothes strewn across the floor, my messy desk and my haphaz ardly made bed. My cheeks flush. I should’ve tidied up like I planned on doing earlier.

I would’ve if I’d known he was coming.

Eventually, he turns towards me again and leans against the edge of my desk, folding his arms across his chest as well. His captivating eyes snare mine easily and, suddenly, I can’t remember why I was annoyed a minute ago much less how to breathe properly. I’d never imagined what it would be like having Colin in my room. It never occurred to me that could happen, but I’m certain whatever fantasy I could’ve concocted wouldn’t live up to this. He's acting like he belongs here, and in many terrific and terrifying ways, I can’t deny that he looks like he does.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Ellie?”

“I–I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Really?” He quirks an eyebrow at me, no trace of anger in his voice or expression, “Because I’ve barely heard a thing from you since Monday morning unless it was to tell me you’re busy.”

“Yeah well,” I lift a shoulder, “That’s because I’ve been busy.”

Okay yes, I’ve been busy trying to avoid him, but I’m not darft enough to admit that.

“Uh-huh and what’s the real reason?”

I swallow, turning my eyes towards the ground. My knee-jerk reaction is to lie again. I can already feel the words forming in the back of my throat, but when I open my mouth, they stay lodged there and I can’t bring myself to force them out. Now that he’s here, lying to him feels monumental. Impossible.

But what other choice do I have ?

Telling him the truth would be worse, wouldn’t it?

I hear Colin push off my desk then, his footsteps drawing closer as he approaches. My breathing shallows and when he stops right in front of me, he’s closer than I expect him to be, the new proximity allowing his warmth and that intoxicating citrus, woodsy scent to soak into every inch of my room. I’m desperate to look up but manage to keep my eyes averted.

“Well?” He asks.

I don’t say anything. I physically can’t, and my erratic heart rate only kicks up a notch further when Colin pinches my chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting my face up to his.

“What’s the real reason, Ellie?” He questions softly.

“I,” Swallow, “Because I like you.”

His eyebrows lift slightly and he lowers his hand, his fingers lightly brushing down the column of my neck. “You like me?”

I nod.

“Are we talking platonically or…”

“N-not platonically.” I murmur, “I like, like you. As in I’m attracted to you and I’m…Well, I think you feel the same way about me.”

I’ve never considered myself as someone who can be bold. It’s never been one of my strengths, but when Colin stares down at me silently, his beautiful eyes darkening into fathomless pools, I feel more emboldened than I ever have before.

“Don’t you?” I whisper.

He crowds an inch closer, all but eliminating the space between us. His hand wraps around my throat lightly, his thumb slowly sweeping over my hammering pulse point .

“Do you really need me to answer that?” He whispers back.

“I think I –”

The rest of the sentence, whatever it was going to be, dies when he pulls me into him without warning, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. I gasp almost immediately and Colin wastes no time using my stunned, parted lips to his advantage, deepening the kiss with the same expertise I remember him using that night at The Arms. Alarm bells sound in my head, urging me to stop this and push him away, but when his skilled tongue tangles with mine and his body envelopes me like a massive, comfy blanket I melt against him, sinking into the kiss and reaching up so I can drag my fingers through his incredibly soft hair. He walks us backwards until he has me pressed against a hard surface (my bedroom door, I think) and shoves a knee between my parted legs, the hard ridges of his body acting as the only thing keeping me from sliding to the floor before his hands glide down and wrap around the backs of my thighs, hoisting me up. An audible whimper escapes, my legs slipping around his narrow waist and then his hands are everywhere. Skimming over the curves of my body and grazing against the side of my breasts. His mouth moves hungrily over mine like he hasn’t kissed anyone in months. It feels so good. So right that I struggle to form a coherent thought. I’m delirious and lightheaded. Drunk on him and completely at his mercy. He rolls his hips into mine and I feel the obvious bulge straining against his jeans rub against my core. I gasp and like a hammer falling against a pane of glass, reality comes crashing back in. Somehow, I manage to wrench my mouth from his, sucking in deep, lungfuls of air.

“Colin…” I breathe .

But he dives into the length of my throat, placing hot, open-mouth kisses there and sucking on my overly sensitive skin. I yank on his short strands of hair, trying to get his attention, but he scrapes his teeth, adding pressure and I can’t help but moan.

God, that feels good. So good in fact, that I almost forget I’m trying to stop him.

Almost.

“Colin, w-wait…Stop. We…We need to stop.”

I push at his shoulders and he finally relents, breathing just as heavily as I am when he pulls back. His eyes are blown wide with heat and lust, for me. That alone nearly makes me throw caution to the wind and pull him back in again.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks confused and I can’t say I blame him.

I just confessed I liked him, basically called him out on liking me and now, like some certifiable nutcase, I’ve stopped us from acting on those feelings while we’re in the middle of acting on them, but I have a good reason.

I hope.

“I just…I don’t know if doing this –” I place my hand on his heaving chest before touching mine in the same spot, gesturing between us, “– Is such a good idea.”

Colin’s face falls, but only for a split second. He composes himself remarkably quickly, plastering on a tight smile.

“Oh right. Yeah, no problem. I completely understand.”

He masks it well, but I can see it. He’s gutted. He hurriedly looks away and sets me back down on the floor, but when he moves to put some distance between us , my heart lurches and I react immediately, grabbing his hand and holding him in place .

“Right now.” I blurt out.

“What?” He faces me again, eyebrows locked together.

“What I meant was; I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do this right now. Not that I never want to do it.”

He still looks lost and I fiddle with his fingers wondering how I should approach this or where I should even start. I know what I need to say and that I need to say it now before I lose my nerve entirely.

“I think we should just be friends…For now anyway.”

“Friends?” He echoes the single word warily.

I nod, working my suddenly desert-dry throat.

“I’m not interested in one-night stands or causal relationships. I never have been and I never will be, so if something happens between us, it would have to be serious. It would have to mean something to both of us and that will only complicate things right now. Apart from the fact that I’m writing this article on you, we hardly know each other and I just broke up with someone and, while your dad needs to work on how to get his point across, he does have one. This season is really important for your future and being in a relationship isn’t a distraction you need.” Colin opens his mouth like he’s about to interject, but I rush on before he can, building off my newfound courage, “I meant what I said though; I do like you; I just think it would be, I don’t know…Safer? Better? If we waited for a while.”

Colin twists his lips, clearly not a fan of the idea at all, and with every second of silence that passes I worry he’ll snap and tell me off for messing him around (again, I wouldn’t blame him), but he just stands there, thinking.

“How long is ‘a while’?” He eventually asks .

“Um,” I draw out the word, stalling for an answer, “I-I don’t know. Maybe we could wait until the end of the season? That way the article will be over, you would’ve secured your future and I would’ve had some breathing room after my break-up. We…We can talk about this again. That’s if you haven’t changed your mind by then.”

Of all the times I wish I could’ve sounded more confident that would’ve been it. Instead, I stumbled my way through that like I’d never spoken to a boy before in my life.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I stare up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, making sure I heard him correctly, but he remains steadfast, not betraying any hint of doubt or misunderstanding.

“I’ll wait.” He says, “But let me make one thing clear, Simpkins.”

He steps back into me again, planting both hands on the door on either side of my head this time and I find myself back where I was only moments ago, pressed between the door and his solid frame. Our chests brush as we breathe, his heat seeping into me until I feel like I’m standing on the surface of the sun. As much as I love my Snow Patrol jumper, I wish I wasn’t wearing it anymore. My hands settle loosely on his hips and I have to remind myself to keep breathing when he brings his lips down to my neck again, his touch barely perceptible as he traces a path along my throat. My eyes close involuntarily and millions of goosebumps pebble over my skin. He reaches the hinge of my jaw, slowly working his way up further until he pauses just below my ear, breathing me in.

I must be mad, because I turn my face into the crook of his neck and shiver, relishing in the promise his next words hold.

“I’m not going to change my mind.”