‘I value my balls too much for that,’ Brodie says. ‘But I’ll inform her of your great idea when she’s back from that sponsor meeting, ya prick.’
I laugh and grab my phone. A text from Theo.
Waiting outside. Brought sustenance. Ready when you are, Sexy MacSwagger.
* * *
My heart does that squeeze that it always does when I see her name. Five months together and I’m still like a teenager.
‘You coming tonight, Finn?’ Jamie asks, zipping his kit bag.
‘Later, aye. Got something to do first.’
‘Something or someone?’ Connor waggles his eyebrows.
‘Grow up, mate.’ But I’m grinning, can’t help it. ‘We’ll be there. Wouldn’t wanna miss celebrating the end of the season.’
I grab my bag and head for the exit, ignoring the wolf whistles behind me. The corridor stretches ahead, concrete and fluorescent lights, and then I push through the double doors into the afternoon air.
The whole world sharpens.
Theo leans against the wall, scrolling through her phone. Her dark hair falls in soft waves around her face, and she’s wearing a little blue dress dotted with tiny white anchors that hugs every curve. Mary Janes with white socks, like some fantasy librarian come to life.
My cock gives a hopeful twitch. Nope, I’ll never get tired of that view. Not even when her hair’s white and she walks on a stick.
I’ll love this woman for the rest of my life.
She lifts her gaze as the door closes behind me, and her smile hits me square in the chest.
‘Hello there, my favourite rugby star.’
I drop my kit bag and pull her against me, breathing in that scent that’s become home. ‘Hello, List Girl. We lost.’
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small tin. ‘I brought celebratory biscuits.’
I laugh. ‘We lost, Theo.’
‘These are for finishing your first season without getting arrested or knocked unconscious more than once.’ She bops my nose. ‘A proper achievement for Finlay Lennox.’
‘Fair point.’
Her fingers find my wrist, tracing the small cherry tattoo I got last month.
‘I can’t believe you did that.’
‘It reminds me of you.’ I kiss her temple. ‘Your blouses. Your lip balm, your soap…’
Five months of learning every inch of her body, of watching her come beneath me, against walls and furniture and countertops. Five months of discovering that sex with one woman – this woman – is more addictive than all the flings that came before combined. Other women have ceased to exist. They’re background noise. There’s only Theo’s frequency, and I’m tuned in all the way.
I pull her closer. ‘Sin & Tonic at seven,’ I murmur against her ear. ‘That gives us a couple hours.’
‘Good. Are you ready?’ She takes my hand.
‘Naw, but let’s do it anyway.’
We walk to my car, her heels clicking against the concrete. The BMW chirps as I unlock it. Theo sinks into the seat as if she belongs there. As far as I’m concerned, she does. Preferably straddling me, swearing in that bossy wee voice. I wouldn’t have guessed it in a million years, but prim and proper Theodora MacMickin has developed a thing for car sex. And I’m more than happy to oblige.
I toss my kit in the back and settle behind the wheel.
