Page 33 of Playing the Field
For a moment I can’t even think straight and I look at him in bewilderment. I had no idea my body could feel this way.
‘Are you okay there?’ he asks, with a devilish grin.
I shake my head. ‘I’m not sure. I think you might have broken me.’
He leaps athletically to his feet. ‘I’ll get you some water.’
I still haven’t moved when he comes back with two filled glasses.
He hands me one and I finally prop myself upright as he sits back down next to me. Neither of us can stop smiling. I still can’t believe how good he made that feel.
‘Looks like it got pretty late,’ he says eventually, nodding at the dusky sky outside the window.
‘Time really does fly when you’re having fun,’ I agree.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. I enjoyed watching you come.’
‘Even my screwed-up come face?’
This makes him laugh. ‘I thought it was sexy. And you haven’t got a look at mine yet.’
‘I’ve nearly recovered,’ I tell him.
He smiles. ‘That wasn’t a hint. It’ll keep till next time. I don’t want to rush any of this. So I was wondering, rather than another short evening together on Thursday after training, how would you feel about spending the whole day with me on Friday? I know you’ve got more exams next week so I understand if you can’t. I just thought it might be nice to have more time together, but that’s me being selfish.’
‘I’d love to,’ I say quickly before he talks himself back out of it. ‘I’ll need a day to regroup after the back-to-back exams on Thursday. I very much doubt I’ll be productive if I throw myself straight back into it.’
‘Then how about we meet mid-morning and head out somewhere? I’ll think of something good, to give you a proper break from all the stress.’
I tell him that sounds lovely. A whole day with Ben! The thought of six hours in a stuffy exam hall suddenly seems a lot more tolerable now I’ve got that to look forward to at the end of it.
17
I really have to fight with myself not to get to Ben’s too early ahead of our grand day out. While he will have been busy in his gym since the crack of dawn, I’ve shaved my legs, painted my nails, plucked my eyebrows, styled my hair, worked my way through multiple outfits before settling on jeans and still had time to pace round my room for over an hour. I can’t wait to get round there.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten his questionable pitchside behaviour or the fact that he’s only in Hamcott temporarily, but I’ve decided not to dwell on it and just enjoy it for what it is, happy now in the knowledge that the attraction is mutual and that, although I might be the latest addition to his list, from what he’s said that list is nowhere near as long as everyone imagines it to be.
Yesterday’s exams– effective leadership and managing change in the morning, data analytics and financial decision-making in the afternoon– were predictably tough, and afterwards Phoebs and I went back to the Mexican, having decided it should be our wind-down routine on all our exam days.
While we were waiting for our tacos I admitted I was worried about my grades, but she was full of reassurance. ‘I know you want to get a first, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t score a hundred per cent– a degree’s a degree.’
Then she confessed she hadn’t been studying quite as hard as I thought she had either– after she dropped me at Ben’s on Tuesday she decided to invite herself to Craig’s. ‘Then I kind of didn’t leave till the morning,’ she said, grinning as she told me she’d already planned his next post-training warm-down.
I might not be Craig’s number-one fan, but if this makes her even half as happy as I feel about seeing Ben then I can keep my opinions to myself.
Ben is fresh out of the shower and bouncing with energy when I get to his, only seven minutes ahead of our agreed meeting time. He still smells of soap as he pulls me towards him for a kiss.
‘Do you fancy going for a drive today?’ he asks.
‘Sure, where to?’
‘Down to the coast? I’ve not had a chance to take my little roadster out for a spin yet this year, and I reckon we could get away with putting the top down today, if you don’t mind a bit of wind and noise, that is.’
‘I think I can manage.’
‘Great.’ He pulls a bulging bag from the fridge and admits he’s already made a picnic. ‘I’ll find a jumper you can borrow too. Your legs will be warm enough in those jeans, but your T-shirt probably won’t cut it.’
He digs out a pair of socks too, in case I want to slip them on instead of the gold strappy sandals I’m wearing.
