Page 9 of Catch Me

I hop out like a rabbit who’s been caged with a leopard for the last ten minutes, gravitating to Molly’s side as quickly as possible. I link my arm through her’s and she beams at me, pecking my temple and pulling me into the bar with her. Her confidence has always been amazing to me, I'm constantly in awe of her whole vibe, the way she carries herself, the way she lights up a room in the most beautiful way. I’m lucky to call Molly Crawford a friend.

The guys follow in behind us, muttering to themselves whilst Molly and I order our drinks and find a booth in the corner. Live jazz music fills the smoky air around us, ironically you’re not allowed to smoke in here but a layer of thin grey cloud lingers just under the high ceiling. The music is piercing, heavenly in my ears. I’ve always loved jazz music, old rhythms and legends like Elvis Presley have always been a source of comfort and joy for me. This is one of my favourite bars in Camden, when I do come here it’s mainly for the music and relaxed atmosphere, the place exudes the best of Londoners.

Nick plonks himself down next to me, Kyle on the other side of Molly. I try not to shift closer to my friend but it’s fucking hard not to automatically create space between Nick and I. He purposefully places a palm down on the soft, turquoise coloured velvet between our thighs, his little finger ghosting over my goose pimpled skin. It’s not cold in here, actually quite theopposite, it’s sweaty and the air is heavy but I'm still covered in the tiny pimples that rise when I'm nervous.

“So, were you girls impressed by my skill tonight? I mean I practically won the game for us while the rest of the team were taking a nap.” Nick says, leaning back against the velvet seat and folding his arms in that arrogant way he does. Molly scoffs and I keep my lips clamped shut.

“Fuck off, Lew scored more goals that you tonight and he’s supposedly injured.” Kyle chuckles, lifting his frosty beer to his lips and gulping hard.

I twist to look at Nick for a beat, his shit eating grin making my thighs slippery, but I don’t show it. My face is a blank canvas and I can see him assessing me.

“Whatever you say man,” Nick shrugs, eyes landing back on Kyle. “You’re just upset because your girl was watching me all night instead of you.”

Kyle’s blue eyes widen and for a second I think he’s going to raise a fist to Nick’s jaw, but when Nick’s grin splits even wider I see Kyle’s shoulders relax.

“Wipe that cocky grin off your face before I come over there and slap it off.” Ky grumbles, hauling Molly closer to him by the small of her waist. She's finding this whole thing hysterical, two men play flighting over her. I on the other hand am feeling the heat radiating off Nick’s thigh as he inches even closer to me. It’s like he’s enjoying this, making me sweaty and uncomfortable being this close to him. Or maybe he’s trying to get my attention, I don’t fucking know. All I know is that I need a breather and when the next words come out of his mouth, I'm up and out of there quicker than a nun in a whore house.

“Ooo feisty,” Nick’s brown eyes sparkle with delight. “I turn you on don’t I? I know I do.” His words are directed at Kyle, but immediately Molly’s permeating gaze falls to me and that’s when I almost knock Nick off the soft blue seat to dash past him. Myfeet lead me out of the door and into the dark of the night, my pulse hammering in my throat. I can’t do this, I thought I could spend the evening with him but I can’t fucking stand being in such close proximity to him and not knowing what the hell this game is that he’s playing. I don’t want to be his new toy, the girl he pretends to be interested in and then tomorrow forgets I exist again.

I won’t do it, I won’t bethatgirl.

The street is still busy, even for this time of night. London never sleeps, the bars are hopping, drunken men stagger across the pavement in front of me before one of them falls flat on his face. I lean my head back against the brickwork, inhaling a lungful of oxygen. The air has a bite of frost to it, the winter already creeping it's way in now we’re nearing the end of October. We barely get a summer in this country at the best of times, our autumns and winters tend to stretch out for all eternity, before half the population is riddled with seasonal depression.

I hear the door swing open behind me but I don’t open my eyes to see who it is, I dont need to. I know it’s Molly from the strong aroma of honey dipped pineapple that suddenly burns my throat.

Her icy hand lands on my bare shoulder. “Hey, you ok? What the fuck happened?”

I heave a sigh, one that makes my lungs ache. “I don’t know, I just can’t…I can’t be in there with him.”

“You wanna go home? I’ll come with you.”

I shake my head, finally peeling my eyes open to look at her. “No, it's ok, you stay here with Ky, I'm going to order an Uber.”

Molly flicks a thick wave of blonde over her shoulder and downs the rest of her drink, planting the empty glass on a wooden post. “Absolutely not,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “Wait here one sec, I just need to piss and then we’ll go home.” She heads back inside like a gust of wind, taking the tropicalsmell with her and I drop down into a chair by the doors of The Good Mixer. The solid metal is like an iceberg against my bare skin and I shift uncomfortably, before relaxing into the icy burn and raking my thick curls up into a sloppy ponytail. Everything is overstimulating me right now, the bright sound of the saxophone from inside the bar, the chill in the air that tickles my skin and the fucking sound of that door squeaking every time someone—

“Lois,” his deep voice makes my heart strum harder than ever and I jump up out of my chair, nearly crashing into his chest. He catches me by the waist, the heat of his hands on me, thawing my frozen muscles.

“What’s wrong? Molly just said you guys are leaving and you ran out of there like an escaped banshee.”

I take a step back, releasing myself from his heavenly grasp. “I don’t feel well, I need to go home.” My voice is so meek, so quiet I'm surprised he can even hear me. My eyes are downcast the whole time, I refuse to look at his face, the chiselled jaw line and scruff of stubble that make me weak in the knees.

His thumb finds my chin and he lifts it gently, forcing me to lock eyes with him. “Have I upset you? I didn’t mean to, honestly I—”

“No,” I cut him off, “you haven’t upset me, I just…I need to go.”

Molly barrels through the doors and almost collides with Nick and I, his thumb instantly dropping from my chin like it burnt him.

“Nicky, get inside before I chop your dick off.” She growls and Nick flashes her a cheeky wink, heading back inside without another look at me. Thank god because that face has me almost throwing myself down onto the concrete and telling him he can do whatever he wants to me, even if that includes treating me like shit afterwards.

“What did he say to you?” Molly grabs my shoulders in a motherly grip, which is funny because she’s only two years olderthan me. “I swear I will shove something very sharp and very long up his arse if he upset you.”

I smile through the bubbling of tears in my throat. “As much as I appreciate that offer and would love to watch it play out, he didn’t do anything.”

She gives a satisfied nod, wrapping a slender arm around my waist and pulling out her phone to order an Uber that will take me home to my bed. The bed where I can dream about Nick Andersen miraculously turning his playboy image around and actually wanting something real with me. But who the hell am I kidding? The man probably didn’t even know my name three days ago and I'm not inclined to automatically believe every word he says, even though I'm a very trusting person. The authenticity I felt from him tonight when we were alone made me feel a little weird if I'm honest, I’ve never seen that side of him before. I only ever get a glimpse of the cocky, overly confident hockey player who has some sort of model hanging off his arm at every given party or event. If I didn’t have a thing for Nick before, I definitely do now and I'm afraid it’s spiralling out of control. I have no idea how I'm going to get him out of my head, but by god I'm going to try.

CHAPTER 6

NICK

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