Me: Stop being dramatic. I expect these levels of drama from Jude, not you.
Nate: Have you seen your tits? Do you understand the affect they have on me?
Me: I get to see my tits whenever I want. In fact, I’m looking at them right now.
Which was true, because I was now in my bedroom, thong on, everything else off while I finished adding some cream to my decolletage that was meant to give me a radiant glow. I’d already trialled it in case it gave me hives instead – it hadn’t. We were good to go.
Nate: That’s not playing fair. If I told you I was looking at my cock right now, you would not experience the same frustration as I am thinking about you, looking at your tits.
Me: Are you looking at your cock right now?
Nate: No. I’m currently wearing a sunhat and have had my face painted up as what my daughters tell me makes me look like a pretty lady. They’ve tried to persuade me to go out like this. Not happening.
Me: So now is not the time to send you a tit pic?
There was no response for ten minutes, during which time I started on my make-up, letting the sparkly magic cream settle on my skin rather than on the robe Genny had bought me for my last birthday.
I was wondering how the hell people had the patience to add their own false eyelashes when my phone vibrated with an incoming video call. From Nate.
He knew I was getting ready, but I didn’t want to take the chance that his girls might be around, so I pulled my robe over my front and kept my phone angled so it was just my face and collarbone visible.
“It’s safe.” Nate’s grin was stupidly, boyishly gorgeous.
My stomach did that dip that I hadn’t yet gotten used to. “I didn’t want to flash your daughters.”
He laughed, moving his phone away so I could see that he was shirtless. His face was also make-up free which I was slightly disappointed at. “Thank you for not flashing my girls. That would’ve been an awkward conversation afterwards.” He grinned again, looking a touch embarrassed, maybe a little awkward too. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what?” We hadn’t video called before. Everything had been done via messages.
“Called a girl like this and asked to see what she, well, wasn’t wearing.”
There was half a glass of champagne on my dressing table which I could blame later for what I was about to do.
“You’re like an addict.”
He nodded. “There are worse things to be addicted to.” Then he sat there like a puppy, obediently waiting to be given a treat.
I changed the angle of my phone, propping it up on my dressing table against my make-up bag, and then I moved the robe away from my front, exposing exactly what Nate had asked to see.
My nipples hardened. Nate’s eyes darkened.
“Fuck.” He licked his lips. “Tonight. Can you slip off? Meet me at my room?”
This was a booty call. I decided to make it worth my while, cupping my breasts with both hands and squeezing them together. Then I gently ran my fingers over my nipples, keeping him waiting for my answer.
Nate rubbed his head, ruffling his hair. “Amber – I feel like such a shit because I should be taking you out for dinner and –”
“I don’t want dinner.” I pulled my shoulders back, giving him an even better view. “Text me your room number and a time. I’ll meet you there.”
He nodded. “I’m going to be hovering round you all night.”
I smiled. “I’ll take that.”
I figured the dress would have Nate drooling, I just didn’t realise quite how much. He was there before me, standing with Jesse and Ryan as usual. The women’s squad was sharing the event with the men’s, so Rowan and Dee were in their element, particularly Rowan who had fallen hard.
Rooms had been allocated to those who wanted to stay. Some of the team and backroom staff had gotten ready there – as it happened, I hadn’t had time to pack and get there to get ready, being on the last minute after a flying visit from my brother and his wife, but I was staying over.
I’d checked in and dropped my overnight bag off in my room, then made my way to the lounge where drinks and canapés were being served. No one went crazy at these events, the owner and board being present and they didn’t want to see the players they’d spent millions on not taking care of themselves by drinking excessively.
