Page 7

Ellie

I am never drinking again.

That’s the first thought I have when I stir awake the following morning and all I can register is a dull, painful ache throbbing in my temples and forehead. Groaning softly, I turn my face further into the incredibly comfortable pillow beneath my head. It smells so good; like sandalwood and something fresh; like citrus and somehow, despite the muggy fog lingering in my brain from the hangover, it suddenly crosses my mind that I don’t recall my bed ever smelling like this.

My eyes pop open, wide and fully awake now.

Where on earth am I?

Gingerly, I prop myself up on my elbow, squinting as I take in my unfamiliar surroundings.

The room itself is around the same size as mine, maybe a little bigger, but unlike my room, it’s simply furnished. Aside from the massive, king-sized bed which I’m currently lying on there’s a desk and chair positioned in front of the windows on my left while some cupboards take up space against the wall ahead of me. To my right sits a leather armchair and beside it stands a huge, fully stacked bookcase overflowing with paperbacks. The floors are covered with dark hardwood and the walls appear to be painted a light grey, though it’s hard to tell given that the curtains are still drawn and they’re plastered with several rugby posters. I notice some framed pictures sitting on the desk, but before I can even think about getting closer to examine them, the bedroom door clicks open.

I’m not exactly sure who I expected to appear, but when Colin steps into view, shirtless and carrying a large glass of water, my eyes grow as wide as plates.

Oh my God…

What did I do last night?

I glance down immediately, beyond relieved when I discover I’m still fully clothed beneath the blanket.

Thank goodness.

At least we didn’t do…That.

“Morning,” Colin says, drawing my attention back to him and to the fact that, apart from the black lounge pants he has on, he’s completely naked.

I swallow thickly. “Um…Hi.”

My eyes hurriedly sweep over his body. He’s built like an athlete. Tall, broad-shouldered, with toned arms, a well-defined torso and a tapered waist. He looks strong, but not freakishly so either. It’s something I’ve always appreciated about rugby, or most sports really. The guys are usually nice to look at when they don’t have a shirt on. Colin is definitely no exception when it comes to that.

Wearing a relaxed smile, he sits down on the edge of the bed and turns so he’s facing me, holding out the glass of water. I take it from him, practically downing the whole thing in just a few big gulps, the ice-cold liquid doing wonders for my pounding head and parched throat. The sound of his soft chuckle reaches my ears and I force my last sip down hard, seeing the slightly amused expression on his face .

“Sorry,” I smile bashfully, handing the empty glass back to him, “Thanks. I really needed that.”

Colin merely nods, his eyes scanning over me carefully.

“How’s your head feel?”

Honestly? “Like a train ran over it.”

He hums, a smirk curling his lips. “Drinking has a tendency to do that, Simpkins.”

I give him a withering look, not appreciating the teasing remark, which only makes him smile wider.

My headache chooses that exact moment to pulse sharply as if emphasising his point and I wince, massaging the skin above my right temple where the pain is concentrated the most. When it finally subsides back into a dull throb, I peek at Colin again. He’s still watching me, but his eyes are filled with concern rather than amusement now. The hand he has resting on the dark blue comforter moves just an inch in my direction like he wants to reach out and touch me, but he clears his throat quietly instead and stands, setting the glass down and sinking both hands into the pockets of his pants.

“If you want to take a shower or freshen up, the bathroom is out the door and just off to your left. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh um, thank you.” I don’t add anything else, too tongue-tied and confused by – well – everything, to form a logical question or thought.

After he leaves, I sit upright and pat my pockets for any sign of my phone until I remember that I left it in my desk drawer back at home.

Shit.

Nat and Liv are going to kill me .

I snatch my boots off the floor and slip them on, making my way towards where Colin said the bathroom was. Luckily, when I step out of his room and onto the narrow landing, there’s only one door to my left and I feel marginally better once I’ve slipped beyond it and locked myself inside the bathroom. With a sigh, I lean back against the wooden door and shut my eyes for a minute, trying to centre myself. I feel drained. I could sleep for a week even though I just woke up (I probably will once I eventually make it home), but more than that I’m completely and utterly lost.

First the article and now this?

For years I’ve successfully managed to avoid getting into any awkward or ridiculous situations; now in the space of a week I’ve managed to get caught up in not just one, but two and with Colin Hunt no less.

I’m not this person. I don’t get drunk and wake up in strange places with a man I hardly know, no matter how hot he is. What concerns me more though, is that I have no recollection of how I got here . I remember going out with Liv and Nat and I remember dancing and drinking a lot more than I initially intended to, but when I try to recall the rest of the evening, everything becomes a bit hazy after that. Obviously, I wound up in Colin’s bed somehow which I can’t even begin to explain. I must’ve bumped into him last night or drunk-dialled him by mistake maybe.

Did something happen?

Clearly, nothing sexual happened between us, but we must’ve had some kind of interaction for me to end up here. Mortification courses through me at the thought. On the rare occasion that I’ve gotten drunk, both of my friends have pointed out how alcohol tends to affect me. ‘Shy’ and ‘rational’ aren ’t words they’ve ever used to describe my behaviour. If anything, it’s the exact opposite. God, I probably made a massive fool out of myself in front of him and now I have to go downstairs and eat breakfast with him and act like everything is normal. I press the balls of my palms into my eyes.

Worst morning ever.

I don’t end up taking a shower, because that would be…weird and I’ve reached my ‘weird’ quota for the day already, but I do splash some cold water on my face and wash off the remnants of my makeup and any sleep lingering in my eyes. I pull my fingers through my mussed-up hair, trying to neaten it, but it’s a feeble attempt. I eye the hairbrush sitting on the edge of the sink, tempted to use it.

Nope.

Too weird.

At least when I look at myself in the mirror again though, I don’t look entirely awful. I wish I had my hat though.

I grab the door handle again, drawing in a few steadying breaths before I click the lock and open it, leaving the bathroom. I head towards the top of the stairs, the familiar sound and smell of bacon and sausages sizzling in a pan wafting over me.

My mouth starts to water.

God, I’m starving.

The cottage's ground floor – If you could even call this place a ‘cottage’ – is large and open-planned, allowing the spacious living room, dining room and kitchen to flow into each other, creating the impression of there being a lot more space than there is. It’s cosy though, with a comfortable-looking lounge suite defining where the living room is, soft rugs covering the dark wooden floors and other pieces of rustically designed furniture placed around each room. For a moment, my eyes linger on the pillows and blanket still strewn across the largest sofa.

He must’ve slept down here last night.

I find Colin in the kitchen, in the middle of cooking our breakfast, and a mild twinge of disappointment surfaces when I see he’s wearing washed jeans and a thick dark grey henley now. He hears me approaching and turns his head to look back, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

“Excellent timing.” He says, dishing up the bacon and sausages onto two plates already loaded with a steaming pile of scrambled eggs and a piece of freshly buttered toast.

My stomach growls.

Wow, that looks good.

He sets mine down on the table in the centre of the kitchen, along with a glass of orange juice and two headache tablets. I smile gratefully and take a seat, immediately digging into the delicious meal without thought or hesitation. It’s way too much and I doubt I’ll finish it all, but you can bet I’ll try my best. Seconds pass in silence and I’m so focused on eating that I don’t realise Colin is watching me until I feel his stare burning a hole into me. When I glance up, he’s leaning against the counter, his head tilted to one side, smiling crookedly.

I flush all over again, swallowing my mouthful of hot eggs and sausage. “Sorry, my manners seemed to have gone out the window this morning. I should have waited for you.”

“If you’d waited it would’ve gone cold.”

“Yours is getting cold.” I feel the need to point out.

He shrugs, unphased. “Just waiting for the tea to finish brewing, unless you’d prefer coffee?” He reaches up, rubbing the back of his ne ck sheepishly, “I uh…Probably should’ve asked you that first.”

“Tea’s fine, thanks.” It’s more than fine actually, but I don’t want to seem awe-struck by what was probably a lucky guess.

He has no idea that I detest coffee.

A minute later, Colin sets a piping hot mug down in front of me before dropping into the seat beside me at the table. Silence descends upon us again as we eat and, for some inexplicable reason, I find myself peering up at him again. I watch as his lips close around a piece of bacon before he drags the fork back out of his mouth again, noticing the way his strong jaw bunches as he chews and the smooth, bobbing motion of his throat when he swallows.

How can someone make something as ordinary as eating look so attractive?

His eyes shift, his staggering blue orbs meeting mine and my immediate response is to look away, but the reaction is delayed, long enough for him to realise I was staring. He smirks, having caught me, and heat crawls over every inch of my skin. I quickly finish eating the rest of my eggs and demolish another piece of bacon, before taking the headache tablets with a healthy sip of the orange juice. I chew on my lower lip for a few seconds, knowing full well I can’t put off asking the question I should’ve asked him ages ago any longer.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night or do I have to guess?”

Perhaps he could explain how I ended up here for instance.

“You don’t remember?”

I shake my head. “I don’t remember much of anything to be honest. ”

I try to push past the fog again, but it doesn’t let up. I just want to know what happened so I can face whatever it is and hopefully not feel terribly ashamed of myself afterwards.

“So, I take it you don’t remember our kiss then?” Colin says calmly.

Our… What?

“Excuse me?” I breathe, hoping that I misheard him, but the steady look in his eyes doesn’t waver.

He’s being dead serious.

“We kissed last night, or more accurately, you kissed me in the pub in front of everyone.” He smiles, traces of heat melding with the icy depths of his eyes the longer he stares at me. “I was more than happy to reciprocate though.”

My thoughts stagnate.

I kissed Colin Hunt.

I kissed my ex-boyfriend's biggest rival.

We kissed.

Oh my god.

Within seconds the fog rolls back and I’m suddenly bombarded with memories of seeing Marco and Nicole together. Of how upset I was, of how Colin was suddenly there, and that the last thing on my mind was anything close to sensible before I acted completely out of character and mauled him with my lips like a total lunatic.

“Still don’t remember anything, Simpkins?” He asks out of nowhere and I startle, the low, husky sound of his voice yanking me from my thoughts.

Oh, I remember.

The feel of his hot mouth against mine. His strong body, his intoxicating smell and warmth. The way he tasted. The way his calloused hands felt on my lower back. How soft his hair was slipping betwe en my fingers. The way he groaned when I scratched his skin and how hearing him make that sound caused heat to swirl low in my stomach. The same way it is now.

“I remember,” I remember everything . Avoiding his scrutinising gaze, I take a big sip of my tea, swallowing it forcibly. “Wh-what happened after that?”

“You asked me to get you out of there, so I took you to St Bryant Park. We talked for a while. You told me about your break up and how you saw Andersen with another girl, which obviously upset you.”

Oh great.

So, I told him everything .

Brilliant.

“Then you passed out on me and I couldn’t wake you up to find out where you lived, so I brought you back here for the night.”

Oh well, I guess that explains everything.

I set my mug down and rub circles into my temples, my headache suddenly intensifying despite the tablets I’ve taken.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, brimming with self-consciousness again. Apparently, that’s all I can feel this morning.

“What are you apologising for exactly?”

“I don’t know, for everything, I guess. For off-loading all of that,” I wave a hand at my figurative mess of a personal life, “Onto you.”

Colin laughs, a quizzical look on his face.

“It didn’t bother me.”

“Really?”

He shrugs, completely at ease. “Why would it, Ellie? ”

The sound of my name rolling off his tongue so naturally like he says it that way all the time makes my insides squeeze. I’ve hardly heard him say it since we started talking, but I have to admit, it’s dangerously addictive hearing it.

“What would bother me though,” He adds when I stay silent, “Is finding out that you regret what happened.”

My stomach clenches, not missing the emphasis he places on the word ‘you’ or how that makes its significance grow.

He’s worried I think it was a mistake.

Should we have kissed?

Probably not.

Do I regret it?

I probably should.

I was drunk. Upset and not thinking clearly. All plausible reasons to second guess my actions and regret them, but looking at him now and seeing the vulnerability he’s not even trying to hide, I can’t seem to bring myself to feel that way or to lie and pretend that I do.

“I don’t regret it,” I admit softly, “But Colin we – ”

I’m cut off mid-sentence when the front door suddenly bangs open and a tall, Asian guy with messy charcoal black hair barges in.

“Colin, you fucking asshole! Get your ass down here right now!” He yells at the top of his lungs, only to stop short when his dark brown eyes land on the two of us sitting at the kitchen table together. They widen, filling with embarrassment. “Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t realise you were down here already or that we had company.”

Next to me, Colin sighs as he stands, muttering something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘perfect fucking timing’ .

“Ellie this is one of my best mates Kai. Kai this is Ellie.” He doesn’t explain who I am to him and I’m not sure how I should feel about that, but I do my best not to react.

His friend, Kai, smiles widely. His handsome, angular face is open and friendly as he walks over to me, holding out a hand. “Lovely to meet you, Ellie. I’m Kai Hara.”

He’s American, but unlike Nicole’s nasally accent, his voice is strong and clear and a lot more pleasant.

“I just told her who you are, you moron.”

I bite back a smile at Colin’s exasperated tone, especially when Kai doesn’t seem to care or even notice it. I get to my feet as well, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it.

“Nice to meet you as well, Kai.”

His dark eyes give me a quick once over and I suddenly regret not taking the opportunity to shower earlier. I probably look terrible.

“So, you’re the lucky girl who has to write that article on my boy over here?”

My eyebrows lift with surprise.

So, he does know who I am and about the article as well.

I glance at Colin, but I can’t get a clear look at his face as he moves around the kitchen, clearing up the pans, plates and cutlery we used. I honestly didn’t think he would’ve mentioned it to anyone until I officially agreed to do it or not.

“Well, technically I am, but I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to do it yet.”

I probably should decide soon though.

Kai hums, nodding like he understands. “I get it. If you end up spending more than five minutes around Hunt, you quickly realise he’s a grouchy motherfucker who despises the idea of sharing anything about his personal life. ”

“Really?” That’s news to me. In Professor Garrick’s office, Colin didn’t seem unhappy or even annoyed about being chosen as the subject of the article.

If anything, he seemed excited.

Intrigued.

“Oh absolutely!” A knowing smile spreads across Kai’s lips as he trails his eyes over me again, but more slowly, “Now I understand why he’s willing to make an exception though.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Colin snaps, appearing at my side suddenly, “Don’t you have literally anything else to do right now, Hara?”

“Nope.”

Colin’s already prominent scowl deepens and he folds his arms across his chest stiffly, glaring at his best friend.

“Leave. Now.”

“Okay fine,” Kai holds up his hands, grinning and retreating backwards towards the stairs, “Message received, loud and clear. Three’s a crowd and all that. Best of luck with this one, Ellie. You’ll need it.”

And then he’s gone, taking the stairs up two at a time and disappearing around the corner.

Colin closes his eyes afterwards, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that entire interaction gave him a headache to rival my own. I smile up at him softly. Despite what he may think, I actually didn’t dislike meeting his friend and it’s sweet that he’s a little embarrassed, though he has no reason to be.

“I should probably get home,” I tell him.

Colin looks at me and nods, his eyes unreadable for once. “Yeah, come on. I’ll take you.”

He grabs a set of keys hanging off a hook near the door and leads me outside. That’s when I discover we’re not actually in Craigavon, but som ewhere on its outskirts, surrounded by browning fields, wooden paddock fences and ancient, waist-high stone walls lining narrow, country-side roads. It’s cold this morning and ominous grey clouds loom above our heads, threatening to rain at any moment. A chilly gust hits me and I wrap my arms around my torso to keep warm, eyeing Colin’s relatively thin layers disbelievingly as we walk down a footpath.

How isn’t he freezing to death right now?

There are two vehicles parked in the driveway when we arrive; a gleaming, silver Porsche Boxster and a black BMW motorcycle. When Colin heads towards the latter, my steps falter.

“Wait. We’re not going on that are we?”

He gives me a sideways look, humour seeping back into his expression. “We are. Is that a problem?”

I eye the monstrous bike timidly.

I’ve never been on a motorcycle before in my life. I’ve never even known someone who owns one. The whole extent of my experience with them has been watching videos on YouTube of people either falling off them or crashing on them.

Not the best first impression.

Colin must notice my discomfort because he smiles as he grabs the helmet hanging off the handlebars. When he hands it to me, his eyes are deep and reassuring. They don’t leave mine.

“You’ll be safe, Simpkins.” He promises softly.

For whatever reason, I choose to believe him.

A fter telling Colin my address, it takes us around twenty minutes to get home.

Twenty of the scariest minutes of my life.

For the record, I didn’t plan on hugging him so tightly or shielding myself against his back whenever we started to move. Honestly, I didn’t! But the thought of spilling off the back of his bike whenever it shot off like a bullet from a gun, overruled any sensible thought I had before I climbed on the damn thing. By the time Colin parks in front of my house, he’s practically convulsing with laughter.

“And to think I wasn’t even going that fast.” He teases.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” I say, glaring up at him when he stands and helps me off this suicidal death machine of his.

“What if I told you that going too slowly is actually more dangerous than going as fast as we were?”

“Then I’d tell you should get a car instead a of bike.”

Colin chuckles at my witty response, taking the helmet from me once I’ve finally managed to undo the stupid strap and yank it off my head.

We stand on the pavement awkwardly, neither of us sure what to say or do now. In the space of three weeks so much has happened and changed between us, it’s hard to know where the line is any more or where it should be now. Personally, I never imagined I’d find myself here, tangled up in Colin Hunt’s life like I am now. Strangely though, it doesn’t seem to unnerve me nearly as much as I thought it would. Which is great in a way, but also mildly troubling.

“I just realised never said thank you,” I speak first, “For everything you did last night and this morning as well. Most people wouldn’t have done that. Especially for someone who’s practically a stranger.”

Colin nods, a hint of a smile present. “You’re welcome, Ellie. Though I’m not sure we’re strangers anymore after last night.”

I grin as well, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He’s talking about our kiss again. My lips tingle and my stomach warms at the reminder. “No, I guess we aren’t.”

I consider whether I should wish him ‘good luck’ for his games tonight or simply say ‘goodbye’ and head inside, but he speaks again before I can decide.

“I’ve been thinking about our little predicament regarding this whole article thing and I’ve decided I’m going to make you a deal; if you don’t want to do it, especially after last night, then I’ll understand completely. No hard feelings.” He pauses then, smirking roguishly, and I can literally see the challenge taking shape in his eyes, “But if you do decide to do it, then you’ll come to my game tonight.”

It’s an ultimatum, I realise. Not a deal.

It’s his way of making me face a decision I should’ve made already.

I stare up at him mutely, desperately racking my brain for an appropriate response. I’ve never liked being backed into a corner, but instead of feeling annoyed or scared, I feel surprised. After how persistent he’s been on the subject, I can’t believe he’d willingly gift me the opportunity to just walk away, right now if that’s what I wanted, while also simultaneously telling me that it won’t affect how he views me. It should make the choice easier, but all it’s done is blur the line between why I thought I couldn’t do this and why a part of me kind of wants to now .

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“So, we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.”

He holds out his hand and I fix my gaze on it, remembering the spark of electricity that zipped through me the first time we touched. When I eventually close my palm around his, I feel it all over again. Even more when he tugs me in unexpectedly and leans down, whispering in my ear.

“See you tonight, Simpkins.”

My mouth pops open and heat blooms under my skin. He says it so confidently like he already knows that’s what I’ll decide to do in the end. He releases my hand and pulls away before I can respond, strapping on his helmet and straddling his bike again. The powerful machine roars to life beneath him and he speeds off. Within seconds he’s gone, along with any chance I ever had of telling him ‘No’.