Page 5 of Play On

“As someone knowledgeable. The way you answered revealed a lot about how you feel.”

I suck in a breath. How did he catch on to that? Will he see that my own fears are keeping me floundering around Dorset, too?

And would a successful, driven man like Noah Darby find me unexciting after discovering that fact?

I decide to be braver than I feel and put it out there.

“Nicholas calls me a butterfly,” I say slowly. “Flittering from one activity to the next. But the truth is, I have a fear of failing, and when I think I might fail, I move on. There. I said it. I won’t blame you if you want to run back to the house and say we’ll be excellent friends.”

“Christ, why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“I have been privileged because I figured out I was very good at football when I was a little boy. It’s been my life, and I love it. I know I want to work in it long after I hang up my boots, too. But do you realise how muchluckplayed into that? What if my dad had signed me up for swimming? Rugby? I’d be like any other person our age trying to sort it out.”

Comfort. Pure comfort surges through me from hearing Noah’s perspective. Maybe my fears are part of me figuring out what I’m supposed to do. That it doesn’t have to be a bad thing, but something I need to go through to sort myself out.

“Nobody has ever presented it like that to me before,” I say. “Thank you.”

We both fall silent for a moment, shifting our gaze to Cupid and letting the frogs and water fountain provide the background noise as we reflect on our conversation.

“This is why I would chase after you, Noah Darby,” I say, breaking the silence. “To have a conversation like this with you. But there’s more.”

I turn to face him, only to find he’s already staring at me. “It’s physical, too. I would be a liar if I said it wasn’t. When you touched me on the beach—” I break off, growing hot from the memory, and Lord, never have I been so up front with a man in my life. “When you touched me, when your hand was on my back rubbing in that sun cream, the way your fingers grazed the straps of my bikini—I felt it. Thatitfactor I’ve always heard about, that chemistry and butterflies and all those things, simply because your hand touched my skin. Your hand. Nobody else’s.”

My heart is now pounding in my ears. Noah stares at me, his full lips slightly parted in surprise.

“See? I talk too much.”

“No.”

His hand slowly lifts off his leg, and to my complete shock, it moves to the back of my T-shirt. Noah carefully slides his hand underneath it, using the same caressing motions he did earlier, but without the sun cream. I shiver wildly in response to his warm hand against my bare skin, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.

“I liked touching you, too,” he murmurs.

Oh. Dear. God.

I lick my lips, giving him an invitation to kiss me.

But he doesn’t. His fingertips travel up around my bra straps, lightly edging underneath them and setting every nerve I have on fire.

“I have to go back to Surrey tomorrow,” he says, his voice low.

“I know,” I manage to respond as he continues this sensual exploration of my skin.

“I want to see you again.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I want that, too.”

He dips his head closer. I swear to God, I’ve never been so desperate for a kiss in all my life.

“I’m not going to kiss you tonight, because I have a feeling if I do, I won’t stop,” he says huskily.

MY GOD THIS MAN.

“Violet, I don’t play games, but I don’t think you do, either. So I’m asking you right now if you will see me again. Go out on a date.”

Noah Darby has no idea how hot he is right now. None.

---