“Oh.” Beth followed me inside, closing the door behind us. “I didn’t realize there was more than one tournament.”
It seemed incredible to me that anyone could be ignorant to how football worked because it was my whole life, but I also enjoyed explaining it. “There are three cup tournaments, more if you count junior and amateur. Then you’ve got the divisions within that. There’s the Scottish Professional Football League”—I gestured to myself—“then the Champion Title, Division One, and Division Two. Teams are constantly trying to move up through those three divisions so they can compete in the Professional League.”
“So, you’re telling me, all I have to do to get you to say more than one sentence is ask you to explain Scottish football?”
Amusement flickered through me at her sarcasm, but I ignored the comment. “Want a drink? Coffee?”
“Oh my God, yes, please.” Beth crossed the room into my living space. She glanced down at the infamous sofa everyone hated. “I have to try it and see what all the fuss is about.” She moved to sit but then hesitated. She shot me a look. “You haven’t had sex on here, have you?”
I snorted. “I thought you said I’d never get laid with a sofa like that?”
“Well, that was until I saw the women coming out of your flat.”
“The only sex that’s been had on that sofa was with my right hand.”
Beth gaped at me. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
I turned to make her coffee. “Of course, I’m joking. That so-called ugly sofa cost a fucking fortune. Milk? Sugar?”
“Both, please. And it’s not so-called. There is no opinion here, Captain. The sofa is ugly.”
A glance over my shoulder told me Beth had sat down on the couch. Her dress camouflaged her against it. Turning away with a smirk, I made us both a coffee with my fancy, expensive Italian coffee maker.
My guest didn’t say another word until I approached her with a cup. “That smells like heaven.”
“It is,” I promised her, reluctantly taking a seat on an armchair opposite my favorite sofa.
I watched as she sipped at the hot drink, her eyelashes fluttering as she licked foam off her lips. Beth had naturally full lips, the kind women I’d previously slept with paid good money for. I couldn’t remember how any of theirs felt, but I could still remember how soft Beth’s lips had felt against mine.
When she moaned, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“This is amazing coffee.”
I nodded, swallowing hard as she took a sip and followed it with another moan.
Bloody hell, was she trying to kill me?
“So … what do you think of the sofa?” I tried to distract her from making sexy sounds.
Beth grinned, a flash of a mischievous, glamorous smile that made my heart pound faster. “You’re right. It’s very comfortable.”
“Told you.”
She shook her head. “It’s still the ugliest sofa ever.”
“Says the woman whose dress matches it.”
Beth glanced down at herself and frowned. “This fabric looks better on me.”
Since it was true, I didn’t argue. “Right. So … about this ultimatum …”
“It’s not an ultimatum.” Beth took another sip of coffee and again licked the foam off her lips. It was fucking distracting. “It’s a ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ proposal.”
The womanwaskilling me.
Ignoring the image that popped into my head at her words, I shrugged nonchalantly, “Tomahto, tomato.”
Beth narrowed her eyes. “Does that mean you’re not interested?”
