Riley
Three years earlier
After searching for Leslie for more than a half an hour, I give up and decide to go home. I never should have come to this stupid party, but Jamie wouldn’t let me wriggle out of it. It’s an important night for him: he was just nominated captain of the team and he really wanted me to be here. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever set foot in the blue room. I was so nervous that I asked my friend from work to come along, and she jumped at the chance. She loves rugby; well, she loves the players, my brother in particular, and the thought of meeting some brought about an uncontainable reaction in her. I’m sure she’s already off in a corner somewhere trying to bag herself one.
I leave the building, hugging my coat across my chest, and dig around in my bag for my purse.
Mission Impossibile.
The bloody clasp won’t open.
I can’t stand Leslie’s bags. They’re too small, too blingy and too technological.
I huff, leaning my back against the wall, planning to slide down it and take a quick nap on the pavement until I sober up, or Leslie comes back and teaches me how to open this damn bag, when a warm voice speaks in my ear.
“Hey, I was looking for you.”
Shit.
“You’re leaving already?”
“Yes, exactly: it’s late and I have work tomorrow.” I try to get him away from me.
“I can give you a lift if you like, my car’s parked over there.”
He brushes my face with his hand, and I feel like I might throw up.
I try to push him away and get back to my senses a bit, to politely tell him to piss off, but it’s even more difficult than opening this damn bag.
“I was just about to call a cab, actually,” I say flatly, going back to digging through my bag.
“The night doesn’t have to end here,” he insists.
Jesus Christ, what idiots these sports freaks are.
“No, thank you. Really, I have to get home.”
Who let me drink so much?
“Something wrong?”
A voice from behind us makes us both jump a little.
“Hey Ian. I was just leaving…”
“Riley!”
What an idiot.
“Of course, Riley, I was just about to drive her home.”
“That’s not true.” I feel the need to justify myself.
Ian crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me sternly.
“She’s actually coming with me,” he says decisively.
Seriously? I must’ve missed something.
