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I kept on staring, fighting the temptation to kiss him on the mouth, in front of everyone, like I was marking him as mine. I’d noticed he was getting just as much attention from the women here tonight, even those who were much older than me.
Someone stumbled into us from behind, causing my hips to brush against him. His eyes flared and he knew that I knew he was aroused, straining against his dress pants.
“Ever since that night, it’s been different for me, too.” My voice was so low I could barely hear myself over the ruckus and music in the public bar.
I rocked my hips into Tom of my own free will this time and his eyelids fluttered. I stifled a moan. All I could think of was erotic thoughts. Tom bending me over the bar stool, entering from behind and calling my name as he—
“Tom! Ya mad dog!”
We sprang apart as Pete barrelled up. His voice was as effective as an icy bucket of water, which I clearly needed. I was behaving like a dog in heat.
“What are you up to, hey?” He clapped Tom on the back. “Rosie! Holy shit, you look great. Dance with me later, hey? Tell me you’re single. Please say you are.” He leant in and planted a big, noisy kiss on my cheek.
Tom grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Steady on,” he growled.
Pete burst out laughing. “Jesus, Tom. Are you Rosie’s bodyguard or something?”
“Don’t come on so strong, man. Be a fucking gentleman.”
I placed a hand on Tom’s arm with a smile. “It’s okay, Tom. Really.” I looked at Pete. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Tom released Pete and I let my hand slip away from Tom’s arm. “Time for some drinks.”
He turned back to the bar and ordered a Coke for himself and bourbon for me. Pete regaled me with embarrassing tales from the awards dinner about some of the players. The perfect distraction from the Most Valuable Player.
Behind Pete, Stacey and Sam were talking at a high table, with Amanda beside them, in town from Sydney having a weekend away from her accounting studies, tapping away on her phone. A couple more girls joined their table as Tom handed me a bourbon. Some of his teammates had joined us, all flirting horrendously with me.
“Touch my biceps, Rose. You gotta check them out!” Doug, a forward for our team, shrugged out of his suit jacket, grabbed my hand and placed it on his bicep. “Go on, feel that strength.”
I rolled my eyes as Tom pointed a finger at Doug. “Cut it out.”
Tom watched on with a deep frown as Doug didn’t seem to know where my eyes were.They’re up here, buddy.
“Women can’t resist these guns, Tom Cat. You better believe it.” Doug let out a long whoop when a new song came on the pub’s speakers. Everyone cheered. It was Lily, with her latest release. Her song had just come out, and the town was going nuts for their rising country music star. Someone called out, “the Belle of Ballydoon.”
“Now your sister, I’d tap that.” Doug did a pair of finger guns at Tom and then ran off onto the dance floor, immediately finding two women to shimmy up to. Which was just as well because Tom’s hands had formed into fists.
“He’s intense tonight,” Pete said, and Tom grunted in agreement.
Doug returned to our table after being outright rejected by the two dancing women as Benji arrived with a jug of beer and several glasses.
Tom pushed his long wavy fringe out of his eyes and caught me staring.
“What?” he asked, with a grin.
“Oh, your hair.” I found myself suddenly shy, caught fantasising about him. How much I wanted to run my fingers through his hair. Tug on it a little. “Your hair looks good like that.”
Benji groaned. “Get a haircut, you unwashed hippy!”
Everyone laughed, including me.
“What is it with women anyway, going gaga over guys with a floppy fringe? It’s just dumb if you ask me,” Benji declared.
Doug agreed and clinked beer glasses with Benji, and the rest of the boys followed.
I smirked and addressed the lads, feeling bold. “Having something to tug when you’re about to come is pretty hot.”
Tom blinked, his mouth falling open. There were collective splutters and coughs and laughs from the boys. I guess I managed to shock him with my audacity, but he wasn’t going to back down; his trademark smirk spreading wide. “You like to pull hair when you fuck?”
