Eyebrows raised, Lia scrutinised her face in the darkness. “Are you propositioning me?”
“What?” Erin frowned, then understanding dawned. Her cheeks warmed. “God, no! I told you I don’t date teammates.”
“Dating and fucking aren’t the same thing.”
“I don’t fuck my teammates, either.” The potential drama that could elicit made her shudder. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.” What was she doing, trying to extend an olive branch? Trying to assuage her guilt, despite doing nothing wrong? Annoyed, Erin turned away.
“No, wait.” Lia reached for her wrist.
Her fingers slid beneath the cuff of Erin’s coat, warm on her bare skin despite the chilly October air. Erin was quick to shake her off.
“I’m sorry. What did you mean? Blowing off steam does sound like a good idea.”
Erin regarded Lia for one long moment. “It’ll be easier if I show you.” She took a step back toward the city centre. In the distance, the lights of their approaching tram glittered. “You coming?”
* * *
Lia walked a half-step behind Erin, wondering if following her through Manchester with no idea of their final destination was wise. She was intrigued by what Erin counted as “blowing off steam”, though. Clearly not the same thing that sprang to Lia’s mind.
The adorable look of wide-eyed confusion on Erin’s face had made Lia smile, then shake her head. Adorable was not a word she should be associating with Erin Finch. Irritating and egotistical? Sure. Even hot—despite having been mad at her in the escape room, Lia couldn’t deny that seeing Erin charge around the place like she owned it, brimming with cocky confidence, had sent a shiver through her. She had eyes. Erin was gorgeous.
But not adorable.
And certainly not available.
They walked for a long time in silence until Erin paused outside a row of warehouses with graffiti scrawled across the walls and doors.
“This way.” Erin pulled open a door and ushered Lia inside.
Had this been a good idea? No one knew where she was and who she was with. She didn’t think Erin would try and lure her into danger, but the woman was unpredictable.
Inside, an unassuming reception awaited them. Behind the desk, a woman smiled as they stepped inside. “Erin! You don’t have a session booked, do you?”
A session? A session for what?
“I don’t. But I’m hoping you can squeeze us in.”
The woman’s eyes travelled to Lia, then widened. “Lia Ashcroft! I’m a huge fan—so glad you signed for Albion. How are you settling in?”
Swallowing her confusion, Lia smiled. “Great so far.”
“Awesome.” The receptionist’s attention flicked to her laptop screen. “I think we can fit you in if you can spare ten minutes for me to get a room ready?”
“No problem at all.” Erin dropped into one of the chairs.
After the receptionist had disappeared through a nondescript door at the back of the room, Lia sat next to Erin. “Okay, what the hell is this place? Where have you brought me?”
Erin turned to face her, looking unamused. “I told you—this is where I come to blow off steam.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Destroying stuff. This is a rage room.”
Lia had heard of them—places filled with breakable things that you could destroy to your heart’s content. “I’ve never been to one of these before, either. But it sounds fun.”
“It is.”
When Erin didn’t seem inclined to say much more, Lia tapped her foot as she waited impatiently for the receptionist to return. When she did, she took them through to the back. They were given some protective equipment to wear—overalls that reminded Lia of a biohazard suit, protective goggles, and a face shield.
