Page 7 of Sweet Rucking Temptation
Maybe he's right. Maybe I could stand to loosen up a bit. The thought both thrills and terrifies me, but as I look around at the vibrant energy of the bar, I feel something inside me start to shift. Just a little.
I'm about to take another sip of my beer when a burst of laughter catches my attention. My eyes are drawn across the dimly lit room, and suddenly, I forget how to breathe.
She's radiant. Dark, wavy hair frames her face, and her smile... God, her smile could outshine the sun. She's chatting animatedly with a group of friends, her hands moving expressively as she speaks. Even from here, I can see the way her warm brown eyes sparkle with mirth.
"Earth to Elliott." Oscar's voice breaks through my trance. "You still with us, bro?"
I blink, realizing I've been staring. "Yeah, sorry. I was just..."
Oscar follows my gaze, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. "Ah, I see. Looks like the Iceman's about to melt."
"Shut up," I mutter, feeling heat creep up my neck. "I was just... admiring the decor."
"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" Oscar chuckles. He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You know, we could go say hello. I happen to know her name's Liv. Runs that new Italian bakery down the street."
I hesitate, torn between curiosity and my usual caution. "I don't know, Oscar. She's probably just trying to enjoy her night out."
"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Oscar grins, already steering me towards her group. "Trust me, I've got a good feeling about this one."
As we approach, I silently pray I don't make a complete fool of myself. Rugby, I can handle. But this? This is a whole different ball game.
"Liv!" Oscar calls out cheerfully, effortlessly inserting us into the conversation. "Fancy seeing you here! Have you met my brother, Elliott?"
I try to channel my on-field composure as Liv turns, her radiant smile now directed at us. My heart does a little stutter-step.
"I don't believe I have," she says, her voice warm and slightly accented. "It's a pleasure."
I extend my hand, hoping it's not as clammy as it feels. "Likewise," I manage, surprised at how steady my voice sounds.
As we shake hands, I notice a smudge of flour on her wrist. It's oddly endearing.
"Elliott just led our team to a big victory," Oscar announces proudly. "Thought he deserved a night out."
Liv's eyes light up with recognition. "Oh! You're *that* Elliott Snow. The rugby star."
I feel my cheeks warm. "I wouldn't say star..."
"Don't let his modesty fool you," Oscar interjects. "He's being scouted for the national team."
Liv raises an eyebrow, impressed. "That's quite an achievement. Your family must be thrilled."
I hesitate, thinking of my father's measured reaction. "They're... supportive," I say carefully. "But it's a far cry from the family farm."
Something flickers in Liv's expression. "I understand that feeling," she says softly. "When I told my mom I was opening a bakery instead of going to law school... let's just say it wasn't all congratulations and champagne."
I lean in, intrigued. "But you did it anyway?"
Liv nods, a determined glint in her eye. "Some dreams are worth fighting for, even if it means disappointing a few people along the way."
Her words resonate deeply, and I find myself nodding. "I couldn't agree more. It's not always easy, though."
"No," she agrees, her smile turning wistful. "But the best things in life rarely are."
As we continue talking, I'm struck by how easily the conversation flows. Oscar fades into the background, and it's just Liv and me, sharing stories of family expectations and the courage it takes to forge our own paths.
I can't remember the last time I felt this... seen. This understood. And as Liv laughs at one of my terrible attempts at a joke, I realize I'm in serious danger of falling for her faster than I've ever tackled an opponent on the field.
I catch myself staring at Liv's smile, my usual icy composure melting like butter in the oven. Her warm brown eyes meet mine, and I feel a flutter in my chest that has nothing to do with post-game adrenaline. I try to mask it with a sip of my drink, but my hand trembles slightly as I set the glass down.
