Page 6

Colin

W hen Mace strong-armed me into going out with the team for our traditional pre-season celebration, I’ll admit, it’s the last thing I wanted to do.

But fuck, I’m really glad I came now.

Each swipe of Ellie’s tongue against mine gets my blood boiling like lava and sends it roaring through my veins. My senses are completely fucked already, drowning in her taste, in her soft jasmine scent and the delicate feel of her smooth skin beneath my fingertips. Fuck, she’s perfect. When she moans into my mouth and presses her soft little body against mine, slipping her fingers into my hair and seeking more contact, my cock starts to harden. I groan, tilting my head to sink into her even more, imagining all the things I want to do so I can keep hearing her make those little whimpers. Eventually, we pull apart and I breathe heavily. My body practically hums with desire as I stare down at her curiously, wondering where the hell this suddenly came from.

During every encounter we’ve shared before, whether in person or over text, Ellie has been restrained and careful, constantly drawing lines in the sand between us to keep me at bay and, most likely to keep her attraction towards me in check, seeing as she has (or hopefully had ) a boyfriend. For her to suddenly make such a bold move is both unexpected and intriguing, which begs the question ;

What’s changed?

It’s only then that I register the unmistakable taste of hops lingering in my mouth. Given that I haven’t had a drop to drink tonight, it must be from her. Those gorgeous, hazel-green eyes lift to look at me and I take a moment to search them properly this time. They look pliant, a little glazed over, traces of heat and something indistinguishable still swirling in them from the aftermath of our kiss. When she sways ever so slightly on the spot, it all but confirms what I’m already thinking.

She’s been drinking.

“Can you get me out of here, please?”

It’s the softness in her voice and the increasingly vulnerable look on her face that pulls an immediate reaction out of me, especially when I realise, we’re standing in the middle of The Arms, surrounded by a room full of people openly gawking at us. I’m used to being watched, but I highly doubt Ellie is. Keeping one arm firmly around her waist, I lead her away from all the unwanted attention, tugging her even closer to my side when I notice several phone cameras aimed our way. Once we’re outside, I keep walking her away from the pub, ignoring the low whispers and blatant stares that seem to follow us. That feeling doesn’t let up until we’re halfway down the street and far enough that no one can see us anymore. It’s only then that Ellie slows our hurried pace. I half expect her to pull away and put some distance between us now that she doesn’t need my protection, but to my surprise, she stays glued to my hip, with her arms folded across her chest and a far-off look in her eyes. I study her again, noticing a dimness lurking in them. Almost as if something or someone snuffed out the light that was there before.

“Are you okay?” I ask cautiously .

She glances at me, like she’d forgotten I was here, but masks the expression with a nod and a meek smile. She doesn’t say anything though and it’s not convincing in the slightest. Clearly, she’s upset, but I won’t press her to talk about whatever happened until she’s ready to tell me. We walk in silence and I consider removing my arm from around her body, but given that she’s been drinking and hasn’t attempted to move away on her own, I hesitate. When she almost trips over her own feet – twice – I firmly decide to keep it there.

It’s still ‘early’ for a Friday night and Craigavon is bright and wide awake. Students from Armitage and Bancroft crowd the streets, indulging in the city's trendy nightlife and restaurant scene. Most of them do double-takes when they see Ellie and me, gaping at us as we pass them on the pavement, or should I say, gaping at me . Being one of the best players in the university league and a future rising star in the world of rugby means that getting noticed comes with the territory and I’m under no illusions that won’t change when I start my professional career either. If anything, it’ll get worse. It’s why the whole team goes out the night before the season-opening match; so, we can boost morale or whatever.

It’s also why I was chosen to be the subject of the Armitage Spotlight.

Public image and recognition are everything in this industry after all.

Like so many things in my life, I’ve gotten used to it. I’m so desensitised to all the attention by now that I don’t even notice it anymore. I can simply flip a switch and tune it out whenever I need to. With Ellie here though, I feel a foreign, bothersome discomfort creep under my skin, especially when I see the nosey and even pointed looks some people cast her way when they see her with me. If she notices though, she doesn’t make it known. When a group of girls practically glare knives at her, I decide it straight up pisses me off, so when I see the park approaching in the distance, I quickly steer us in that direction. Ellie still doesn’t speak. She merely stays at my side, her distracted eyes fixed on the horizon as we pass through the massive, wrought iron gates at its entrance.

During the day, St Bryant Park is a stunning landscape of wide, grassy glades, with shady trees and finely manicured gardens. At night its winding, stone-paved walkways are lit by the old oil lamps burning alongside them. It’s tranquil, especially in the early hours of the morning, making it one of my favourite places to run. It’s quiet tonight and void of any people, and I instantly feel better now that I’m not being scrutinised like some godly specimen or that Ellie isn’t being judged either.

“He was there,” She murmurs suddenly, “My boyfriend –” She pauses, her jaw clenching tightly, “My ex-boyfriend, I mean. With another girl.”

My eyes narrow at her pained expression.

“Did he cheat on you?” I ask, doing a piss poor job of masking my growing anger.

“Yes…No... I mean,” Ellie frowns, the corner of her mouth pinching with uncertainty before she heaves out a despondent sigh, “I don’t know if he did, but we haven’t even been broken up for a week and he’s already…” She trails off, finding whatever she wanted to say next too difficult to confess.

My eyebrows dig in deeper.

A week?

That means the break-up happened around the same time she was asked to do the article .

Is that why she’s been so cagey about it?

“He’s…” She tries, swallowing when she struggles, like there’s a rock lodged in her windpipe.

“…A wanker?” I supply.

It’s meant to be a joke. Something to try and lighten the mood, but the serious undertone in my voice makes it clear that’s what I think.

“That’s a good way of putting it, actually.” Ellie finally smiles and while it may be soft and muted, it’s still genuine.

We walk for a short while without saying anything else and I find myself glancing down at her, so focused on trying to think of a way to dispel the sadness from her eyes for good that I don’t see the man walking his Jack Russell until he passes right by us. Ellie’s gaze immediately snags on the dog and my mouth parts, something tugging in my chest when the widest, most beautiful smile she’s worn to date stretches across her lips.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

I shake my head disbelievingly.

How Andersen could willingly cheat on and end things with a girl like this is beyond me. He really is a fucking wanker.

I have no clue what she’s thinking. If I can do anything to help or if I have helped already. We hardly know each other, but something about seeing her like this puts me on edge. People like her shouldn’t be treated like this. No one should.

She’s still looking at the dog when Ellie trips again without warning. The hand I have on her hip tightens instinctively, my fingers digging into her skin as I quickly manage to yank her upright and keep her steady. She staggers into me as a result, her face and hand smacking into my chest with a soft ‘oomph’ while the rest of her body collides with mine.

“You okay?” I ask gently.

It takes a few seconds, but Ellie responds, barely moving her head when she tilts it back to look at me. She nods, her green eyes swimming with something indiscernible. I stare down at her just as vaguely, not giving my next action much thought, as I tuck a piece of hair that’s fallen out of place back behind her ear.

That seems to snap her back to reality.

Clearing her throat quietly, she drops her eyes, hues of red staining her flushed cheeks even further as she gingerly moves back to my side.

A crooked grin splits my lips.

She’s fucking adorable when she blushes.

“Exactly how much did you have to drink tonight, Simpkins?”

“A lot more than I realised apparently.” She admits with a shy laugh.

“Or maybe you’re just a lightweight.” I tease.

She giggles again, bumping into me playfully. “Shut up.”

We reach the middle of the park where garden lights illuminate the flowers around the path's edge and water flows steadily over the ornately designed tiers of a massive white marble fountain. For the first time since we left The Arms, Ellie moves away from me, approaching the impressive circular basin at the bottom. I fold my arms across my chest and watch, half captivated, half fretful, as she perches herself on the edge of it and leans down, dipping her hand into the water. A gust of wind hits me and I shiver slightly, exposed now without her warmth .

“So, what was it?” I ask curiously.

“What?”

“His shitty reason for ending it with you?”

Ellie continues to glide the tips of her fingers through the water, lifting and dropping her shoulder like it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t look at me when she speaks either.

“He told me our relationship would be a distraction. That he needed to focus on his rugby and his future, but I think what he really wanted was a free pass to fuck any girl he wants without the added commitment of having to date her.”

She spits the last sentence out bitterly and my jaw ticks.

Did I say wanker?

I meant he’s a fucking twat.

Anyone who breaks up with their girlfriend or boyfriend and then flaunts someone new around not even a week later in a public place where they know they’ll be seen (probably by their ex) is a piece of shit. Part of me wants to march back to The Arms, find that fuckhead and deck him until he can’t see straight. Another part of me, the more rational part, knows that won’t help.

It would be fucking cathartic though.

“So, he did cheat on you then?”

I take a seat beside her on the cool stone, stretching my legs out and crossing them at the ankles.

“I think so,” Ellie whispers, still actively avoiding my gaze, “Or at least it seems like he did. The girl I saw him with tonight is one of his friends supposedly, but she’s obviously a lot more than that and has been for a while now.” She stops, curling her shoulders despondently. “I’m so stupid and this is my fault. I should’ve – ”

“Stop.” I shake my head, disgusted by the idea that she somehow thinks she’s responsible for this, “He’s the one who chose to lie and cheat, not you. None of that is your fault, Ellie.”

There’s only one piece of shit in this situation and it definitely isn’t her.

When I can see she doesn’t believe me, I place my fingers under her chin, gently tilting her face up until those stunning eyes are focused on me.

“Anyone who failed to see your worth when they had it, never deserved it in the first place. Is that clear?”

Ellie blinks and her mouth parts with surprise, those words and their significance managing to sink in despite her inebriated state. “Okay.”

Her eyes drop to my mouth and she swallows thickly. I can see her pupils dilatating and when she slides an inch closer to me, I freeze, holding my breath. Her slim fingers toy with the material of my jumper, fisting it and pulling me towards her. I follow willingly, my eyes closing as I lower my hand, gently stroking the delicate skin on her throat with my thumb.

“What are you doing, love?” I murmur.

“Kissing you.” She breathes. “Again.”

Her lips just brush against mine and I exhale sharply, feeling lightheaded, but also conflicted. We shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t…but fuck me …It’s bloody tempting. On any other night and under different circumstances, picking up from where we left off at the pub wouldn’t even be a question for me, but I can’t take advantage of her like this, especially when I know she’s upset and has been drinking.

“Ellie. ”

I start to pull back, but she lets out a groan and pitches forward suddenly, the full weight of her body collapsing against mine and causing both of us to almost tip backwards into the fountain. I panic, wrapping my arms around her quickly.

What the…

I sit there for a second, completely baffled, but also concerned, until I realise her breathing has softened and evened out.

She’s fallen asleep.

Of course.

I chuckle, carefully brushing the curtain of hair from her face. “Come on Simpkins, let’s get you home.”

There’s just one problem; I have no clue where the fuck that is.

W ith Ellie’s head resting on my shoulder and her arms and legs around my body, she doesn’t stir as I unlock the cottage's front door. Getting her here was both awkward and cumbersome and I lost count of how many reassuring smiles I had to plaster on my face just to placate all the bewildered people I passed while carrying her over to a taxi.

Not that I’m complaining.

Even if I had known the evening would end with her passed out and wrapped around me like a koala bear hugging a tree, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Thank fuck, Kai and Mace aren’t home though, because I have no idea how I would even begin to explain any of this to them. Keeping my one arm braced under Ellie like a steel rod, I carry her inside, kicking the front door shu t behind us with more force than I intended to use. I flinch at the loud noise, afraid that it’ll wake her, but she merely mumbles something in her sleep and presses her face deeper into the crook of my neck. I smile, slipping my arm back in place alongside the other.

I don’t know why I was even worried. After she passed out, I made several attempts to try and wake her so I could find out where she lives , but the girl is like a fucking corpse when she sleeps. Completely dead to the world around her. When that didn’t work, I tried looking for her phone, but couldn’t find one on her. I thought about carrying her back to the pub and seeing if she had any friends there, but after all that attention we received earlier, I decided against that was a shit idea. So, I gave up, deciding to bring her back here instead.

Not the most ideal situation obviously, but it’s not like I had much of a choice either.

Her warm breath tickles my ear as I carry her upstairs to my room, gently nudging the door open with my shoulder when we arrive. I head over to the bed and, after a little grappling and careful manoeuvring, I manage to untangle Ellie from around my body without dropping her. I lay her down on the mattress and a crooked grin tugs at my lips when she groans softly, burrowing into my pillow and immediately making herself comfortable. I pull off her boots and grab the thick blanket I always have folded at the end of my bed, covering her body with it. I straighten up slowly once I’m done. I know I should leave and let her sleep, but I find myself rooted to the spot; watching her for a moment.

I’ve never had a girl in my bed before.

Usually, I end up in theirs .

Unlike Mace, the idea of bringing someone back here always bothered the shit out of me. This cottage. This room, it’s my space. Somewhere where I can exist without the outside world bearing down on me all the time. With Ellie here though, it’s remarkable how naturally she seems to fit into it. Almost as if she belongs here.

I shake my head.

Apparently, kissing a girl after starving yourself of female company for months on end leads to idiotic and delusional thoughts that shouldn’t be entertained.

Noted.

It was one hell of a kiss though.

Anyone else would’ve lost their head over it as well.

I quickly grab some lounge pants out of my cupboard and shut the bedroom door behind me as I leave, pulling some spare pillows and an extra comforter out of the linen cupboard before I head downstairs, change my clothes and settle down on one of the sofas for the evening. I lie there for what feels like hours, staring up at the dark rafters above me while an endless parade of thoughts trickle through my head. I didn’t expect to see Ellie again tonight. I didn’t expect her to kiss me or to tell me she and Andersen had broken up, and I certainly didn’t expect the evening to end with her sleeping in my bed.

Two weeks ago, I probably wouldn’t have done anything close to this for a girl I hardly know. I certainly wouldn’t have allowed her to invade my personal space, but something about Ellie makes it hard for me to think straight.

I like her.

I like spending time with her.

I want to spend more time with her .

Hopefully, our little misadventure tonight hasn’t ruined my chances of changing her mind about doing the article, because my interest in her – in whatever this is between us – hasn’t dwindled in the slightest. If anything, it’s grown, significantly, and that’s both scary and intriguing because my fascination with a girl has never gone beyond something superficial like sex and I have no clue where to start or how to even begin navigating this.

I smirk at the challenge though, because I’m curious to find out.

The consequences, whatever they may be, be damned.