“Messages.” I gave her a nod back. “See you in the morning, probably.”
“See you then.”
I sent her a message that night, apologising again for making her feel like I’d rejected her. She didn’t respond for another day, and then it was a friendly heads up that The Count had to take a few days off, so I was on her case load. Her second message was just one sentence long.
I’ll be gentle with you.
We were staying in Newcastle, with a match against Sunderland just two days later, there was no point in travelling back to Manchester, so we were penned up in a decent country hotel, avoiding the city centre so we weren’t stalked by the usual gaggle of females who were keen to show us how they could score, and the facilities were decent.
I’d stayed up fairly late after the game, talking to Jesse about shit and checking in with my parents who’d decided to stay until the new nanny started to give me and the girls some stability. We’d had a few beers, probably more than we’d usually have after a match, but tomorrow was meant to be spent relaxing or using the spa facilities.
Jesse had gone up to sort out Jude and Nicky who’d decided to have some ridiculous karaoke competition on some social media thing, that would no doubt make the press tomorrow, leaving me to finish my drink and then find a decent sized cup to have tea.
My girls were fine and well; my parents settled and my dad overjoyed at discovering the whisky collection that I’d been building for when I retired. I’d probably have to start again after they’d gone back home.
I hung around the hotel kitchen, hoping someone from housekeeping on a night shift would turn up and take pity on me.
Someone did. But it wasn’t anyone from the hotel staff.
Amber and I had managed to keep something of a distance after I’d apologised. We had messaged each other, friendly texts, with the odd flirty message thrown in, but they were the minority. She’d worked on my shoulder more, and my calf when I’d picked up a strain, but Rowan or Ryan had been in the same room, chatting shit and waiting for their turn.
Not that it hadn’t been torture. My body knew how it wanted to react to her, and I knew what I would prefer to happen after those sessions, only it couldn’t and there hadn’t been the opportunity either.
Until now.
“I didn’t expect you to be lingering around the kitchen door. Isn’t that Jesse’s job?” She was wearing a silky dressing gown, pulled tightly around her, but not concealing that she was probably cold, judging by how her nipples were pressing against the material.
My first thought was that I’d fallen asleep somewhere and this was a dream; my second was that any of the team could wander down and see her like this, which pissed me off no end.
I knew I was staring at her; she looked down and saw what had caught my attention, then laughed. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“I’d rather the rest of the team didn’t.” I stepped closer to her. “What are you after?”
“More tea bags. I’m out. Genny drank too much so we were trying to sober her with tea, as it was all she’d agree to have apart from more wine.”
She didn’t try to cover her breasts, which meant it was taking a lot of effort to not keep looking at them. My problem, not hers.
“Is Genny okay?”
Amber shrugged. “More to the point, is Guy okay, because he was the reason why she was drinking.”
“Another row?” Their arguments had become infamous.
Amber nodded. “No idea what it was about, and no one seems to have overheard it. She has the day off tomorrow, so she’ll probably spend the morning sleeping it off and be all fresh and model-like by the afternoon.” She rolled her eyes, but there was only affection there. “Why are you lurking round the kitchen?”
“I need a proper sized mug. Not one of those poxy things in the hotel rooms.”
Amber laughed, which made me finally think I’d been forgiven for ignoring her all those weeks ago.
“I’ve got a spare. If I can have some of your tea bags, you can have a mug. Deal?” She folded her arms under her tits, making them even more prominent and I figured she was doing it on purpose.
“I’ll bring them to you. Don’t want to risk any of my teammates seeing something I still think of as mine, even though it’s probably not.” I gave her a blatant look and lowered my eyes to her tits. ‘What room number are you?”
“One-oh-five. The end room on the first floor. The Count should’ve been next to me.”
Which meant no one was in earshot, unless I was reading this wrong.
“Shall I bring the tea bags to you, or do you want to meet me near the lifts?” I moved my hand so it brushed against hers.
