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  From the other side of the field, Keir appears to say something to make Will laugh. He straightens, slapping his friend on the back. His expression changes as he noticed the angry man stalking towards him. From laughter, to that ever-present teasing glint, to something that looks like concern.

  ‘Look, Juno, Daddy’s just about to make an idiot of himself,’ Ella coos, turning her attention to Juno as she begins to squirm unhappily.

  ‘Is he going to—’

  ‘Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. I do worry about the other team, though,’ she says as a whistle blows and the play resumes. Not half-time, then.

  I become a little preoccupied with where Mac is on the field after that, particularly in relation to Will. The man is like a mad man, knocking down men like they’re pins. Thankfully, he gets nowhere near Will; though whether by accident or Will’s wily design, it’s hard to tell.

  When the half-time whistle does eventually blow, I find Will on the other side of the small fence, smiling as widely as someone can when wearing a mouthguard. Panting heavily, he leans across the fence. His perfectly styled hair is a mess, the muscles in his forearms tensing as he plants a muddy, smacking kiss on my cheek.

  ‘Good game?’ I ask, trying not to be too affected, despite the fact that all I can imagine is this is what he must look like after sex. Minus the mud, at least.

  ‘Aye, braw.’ His tone is gravelly with exertion—with his accent—as he leans over the fence, this time to grab a sports bottle from a bag near Ella, who’s currently preoccupied unfastening Juno from her baby harness while answering Louis’s stream of questions.

  ‘Is it the game or being around your friends that makes you talk differently?’ I suddenly ask.

  ‘Different? How so?’ Does he look delighted that I noticed, or happy that I asked?

  ‘You’re more, arr!’ I find myself making both the call and odd gesture of a Disney pirate. Sort of like I’m ironing the collar of a shirt.

  ‘Like Long John Silver?’

  ‘I mean all manly man.’

  ‘Remind me never to partner with you for charades.’ He chuckles. ‘And in case the raw display of masculinity evaded you during the first half of the game, we are men. Ergo, manly.’

  ‘Around them, your accent is different.’

  ‘They’re Scots. They bring out the Scots in me.’ As he raises his gaze to mine, I’m not sure if it’s confusion I’m seeing or hurt.

  ‘I detected a hint of something in that urbane speech the first day we met. I thought it was Scandinavian.’ Now that look is pure Will delight.

  ‘Clever girl. My family seat is as far north as you can get, relatively speaking. In the Isles. The accent is a little different up there.’ His family has a seat? Like, just one?

  ‘But it’s more than that.’ He peers back at me from beneath his brows once again. ‘It’s like, maybe you’re at home around them.’

  ‘Well, they’re my mates. Some family you’re born to, and some are lucky enough to choose you.’

  ‘Will must be on his period,’ calls out Keir as he appears by Will’s side. ‘He just called us his friends.’

  ‘Piss off,’ Will retorts, making a grab for me. He pulls me into his wet, muddy torso, despite the fence.

  ‘Eww! Icky.’ I can’t help but giggle as I try to squirm away, while not actually getting anywhere.

  ‘Good job I like you messy, especially when you leave the mess all over my face.’ His voice is pitched low, his words nuzzled into my neck.

  ‘Get a room,’ shouts one of his teammates, but I know he didn’t hear the reason for the glassy look in my eyes. The reason for the beating low in the pit of my gut. The reason I find myself crossing my legs at the ankles as Will releases me. To clamp my thighs together, seeking to contain the effect he has on me. And by the look he just slid me? He knows.

  ‘Put the lassie down,’ yells an older man from a couple of feet away, even though I’m already outside of his warm arms. I assume by the clipboard, the paunch, and the air of self-appointed authority that he’s in charge in some sort of capacity. Coach, maybe? ‘Have I no’ told you lot before—’

  ‘No PDAs on the playing field,’ half a dozen voices chorus from nearby.

  ‘You need to look like warriors, not lovers,’ the man continues, aggrieved.

  ‘Aye, but you know the rule was instigated so Will here couldn’t cop a feel o’ me,’ replies a laughing Keir.

  ‘For a man who spends his life elbow deep in vagina, he’s awful interested in hairy baws,’ agrees Mac.

  Baws? Is that . . . balls? Oh, my God! He did not just go there. Of course, his friends know what he does for a living, but this kind of teasing in public seems surreal.

  Will holds up his forearm, fist clenched, and staring at his elbow. A look of faux confusion sits on his brow. ‘Were you lot under the impression I’m a vet?’ he asks, looking up again. ‘I’m not sure what kind of women you’re all attending, but if your arm disappears to your—’ His arm drops suddenly, his expression horrified

  ‘I’m sorry, Sadie. That was obscene and uncalled for. Locker room talk before we’ve gotten to the actual locker rooms.’

  I don’t get to respond even though I wouldn’t know what to say.

  ‘William.’ His head snaps to the direction of Ella’s voice, where she stands with her hands over Louis’s ears. ‘I’ll get this one to call you if he has any questions about that, or maybe nightmares, should I?’

  ‘Saved by the whistle.’ With a wink in Ella’s direction, he, along with the others, trot off to the middle of the field.

  ‘Don’t let the way they talk put you off coming to other games,’ Ella begins. ‘I’m not their PR spokesperson or anything, and they can be a little coarse and a bit of a handful, but all three of them are good men.’

  ‘Will, too?’ I’d meant to sound light-hearted, but my words come off a little shrill.

  ‘Absolutely. He is. He really is.’

  ‘Ella,’ I say gently. ‘I’m only here for the summer. And Will is certainly the love ’em and leave ’em type.’ As well as the billable by the hour kind.

  ‘Well, he is. But that’s only because he hasn’t found the right woman.’

  ‘I sense that didn’t come from him.’ In answer, she shrugs lightly. ‘And, to be honest, in his line of work, it’s going to take a special kind of woman—a very brave woman—to gamble her heart to him.’

  Her expression twists before she begins in an uncertain tone, ‘I don’t really—’

  ‘Come on, I saw how the guys were ribbing him. I know you know what he does.’

  ‘It’s not a secret,’ she replies, frowning now. ‘Everyone knows Will’s occupation.’

  ‘And that’s part of the appeal of the man. Less appealing is wondering how many women he’s known intimately, and how it’ll effect you when you meet them accidentally.’ A suddenly sickening thought launches its way into my throat. ‘Mac earlier—and I’m not judging—is that what his anger was about?’

  ‘Me and Will?’ She scrunches her nose before beginning again. ‘I’ll admit, Mac wasn’t very keen on using him.’ Using him? Oh, Lord. What rabbit hole have I fallen into now? ‘But what kind of man wants one of his friends to have intimate knowledge of his significant other’s vagina?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Exactly that.

  ‘And, to be honest, we socialise so often, and I can be the most socially awkward klutz. I don’t think I’d ever have been able to look him in the eye again. Not without thinking, You’ve seen my lady bits.’

  ‘And you his.’

  Ella’s mouth suddenly clamps shut. Then opens again. Then closes. Again.

  ‘Sadie,’ she begins eventually, drawing my name out much longer than it actually is. ‘Can I ask you what you think Will does for a living?’

  ‘I’m not sure what you would call it. Not in polite society, at least. Gigolo? Escort? Male prostitute? Though the last one sounds more like an insult.’ And leaves a bitter taste in my throat.
r />   My gaze follows Ella’s as she turns to the field at the exact moment Mac passes the ball to Will in some kind of slight-of-hand motion. Will, in turn, battles his way through three of the opposition before throwing the ball behind him to Keir. A cheer rings out as Keir then sprints ahead, deftly sidestepping the human obstructions ahead. And, in a motion that most spectators will miss in the excitement of the Dissenter’s potential try, Mac grasps Will by the shoulder, slipping his other hand between his legs. Instantly, Will collapses onto the grass like a marionette with cut strings.

  ‘Oh, Will,’ Ella’s says on a sigh. ‘When will you ever learn?’

  Chapter Fifteen

  WILL

  Sadie isn’t there when I get out of the changing room, and Ella’s eyes don’t meet mine as she tells me Sadie has gone to wait by the car. It used to be that Mac, Keir, and I would head to a spit and sawdust kind of pub after a match, but these days, we’re more likely to go somewhere quietly civilised for Sunday lunch.

  Plans seem the same for today, but it looks like Sadie and I won’t be attending, though the reason isn’t clear. Sadie isn’t the stroppy type, as far as I can tell, and Ella is so sweet she gets along with literally everybody. I really thought the pair would hit it off, but maybe I was wrong.

  They were never going to be lifelong friends, my mind pipes up. Sadie will be gone in a few short weeks.

  The sun has slipped behind a cloud, and the cool afternoon air ruffles my shower wet hair as I spy her, leaning back against the passenger door of my car. I should’ve thought to leave her the keys. But as I get closer, I revise that thought because she looks pissed off enough to total the thing.

  ‘We won.’

  I drop my bag to the ground by her feet as a large drop of rain slaps the leaf of a dandelion next to it. It’s going to rain, but I don’t care. We won, and I’m on an adrenaline high. And if I have anything to do with it, I’ll be deep inside this woman soon. There literally is no room for anything else. Games like today’s are almost as good as sex, the kind that leaves you soaked in sweat and gasping for breath. Exhausted, yet sated, with the biggest smile on your face.

  Without giving her more than a moment to squeak a protest, I pick Sadie up and swing her around. ‘Did you see the last try?’ Arms folded under her backside, her face is above mine as the rays of the sun sliding out from behind a cloud hit her head, gilding her hair with a golden crown.

  ‘Put me down, Will,’ my queen says.

  ‘What for?’ I cajole, hitching her higher. Holding her tighter, I find my mouth so close to her breasts. The collar of her sundress gaps, exposing more than the bare column of her throat. A titillating peep show of flesh, which reminds me of how I’d kissed the curve of her neck. Of how I’d worked my way down her body, tasting her creamy flesh. Fuck, I can’t wait to crawl above her. Be inside her. Fuck her like I want to be under her skin.

  ‘I like where you are.’ I tighten my arms again. She can’t fail to hear the desire in my words or feel me thickening. I wonder abstractly if I could hoist her up and slide her thighs across my shoulders. Her pussy and my face, on a date.

  ‘Oh, I’m aware you have me right where you want me.’ Her words tumble from her mouth angrily. ‘In the dark, like a fool you’re stringing along.’

  ‘Sadie—’

  ‘Put me down,’ she yells, now pummelling my shoulders with her fists.

  I set her back on her feet in the empty carpark, the weather changing as her ballet flats hit the deck.

  ‘Let’s talk about it in the car. The heavens are about to open.’

  ‘Good. I hope someone up there has it in his mind to do a little of smiting. I swear to God I would walk home if I knew where the fuck I was!’ She swings around as though to run.

  ‘Sadie, sweetheart.’ I reach for her shoulders, but she shrugs me off. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  As she turns, I feel the impact of her hand at almost the same time as I feel the disturbance of the air. And I have to hand it to her, the girl isn’t as fragile as she looks, the force of her palm knocking my head sideways.

  ‘Want to tell me what that was for?’ I ask, rubbing my stinging cheek.

  The rain starts to fall in earnest now, people spilling into the carpark as they fumble with their keys and slide into their vehicles.

  ‘It doesn’t happen like that in the movies,’ she mumbles, folding her sore hand under her armpit. I take no pleasure in her hurting herself, not when she looks so hurt in other ways. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were a fucking gynaecologist!’ she suddenly yells.

  ‘Obstetrician, actually.’

  ‘Why?’ Her question in plaintive, but my answer is out in the air, prepared with little thought.

  ‘Because I’m a big fan of the female reproductive system.’

  ‘Great. You just carry on playing the clown. Do you realise what a fool I’ve just made of myself in front of Ella? Or was that the plan? Yeah, maybe that was it,’ she says, warming to her theme. ‘I mean, her husband seems more than a little pissed at your fascination with his wife, so maybe that’s what this was all about. Am I a fucking decoy, Will?’

  ‘That’s not what this is,’ I answer, suddenly tired as I wipe a hand down my face. ‘Ella and Mac are madly in love, and I couldn’t be happier for them. This was about me. My error in judgment. I thought you’d see the humour in it when you finally found out.’

  ‘You are the most egotistical, untrustworthy . . . jerk,’ she growls.

  ‘Perhaps. In some senses.’

  ‘In some senses? In all the senses,’ she then yells, her hands rising and falling along with her frustration. ‘You wouldn’t know truthful if it jumped up and slapped you in your pretty face.’

  ‘I apologise.’ Prettily, apparently. Almost as prettily as the lace bra the rain reveals under her dress. ‘I admit I may have strung you along a little, but I didn’t do it to hurt you. To be honest, I thought Kallie might have told you that first night after we spoke. She asked me if I was an actor, do you remember?’ I suppose I just enjoyed playing my part just a little too much.

  ‘You lied to me,’ she says quietly, staring at the wet, weed choked ground.

  ‘Come on.’ I step to her and tip her chin with my finger. ‘I’m sorry. It was just meant to be a little bit of fun.’

  ‘No, you did what made you feel safe.’ Her green eyes burn with fury and with the truth. At least, as she sees it. ‘I saw it on your face this morning as you picked me up. You were quiet on the journey over—probably wondering why you’d asked me to come. You let me believe you were . . . billable by the hour, so I didn’t get attached to you. You don’t want a relationship or even a friendship. You just want to fuck me.’

  ‘Says the girl in the market for a whore.’ Like a kicked dog, I retaliate.

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I answer immediately. ‘Will you want me to now that I can’t be paid?’ Now it’s her turn to look like the one slapped. ‘Who’s trying to stay safe here? You want to talk about the truth? How about the girl who won’t even admit to herself the reason she’s seeking love on the other side of the world is because she’s afraid? Afraid she might find it . . . afraid she won’t? Who the fuck knows. Not that it matters because, if she chooses, she won’t ever have to set eyes on the person again.’

  ‘Away home, you couple of numpties. You’ll catch your death of cold!’

  Neither of us turn to the direction of Keir’s voice, each silently willing the other to back down. The rain falls in streaks down her flushed face, soaking her dress and rendering the cotton almost completely transparent. Strange that it barely touches me. At least, I can’t feel it. I think my skin burns so hot the droplets must be turning from water to vapour on contact. Because I fucking burn. With indignation. With anger. With hurt. But mainly, I burn for her.

  I want to tear off her clothes and lick every drop of rain from her skin. I want to pull her down, force her to her knees until the gravel digs like thorns into
her skin. I want to fuck her like she’s an animal in heat. Own every inch of her skin.

  ‘Get in the car,’ I growl, noticing the flush creeping up her neck, knowing instinctively it isn’t just anger or embarrassment as her breath quickens, her chest rising and falling along with it.

  ‘Why don’t you make me?’ She quirks a brow, her tone dripping with scorn and rebellion—the kind that has my cock throbbing in my jeans.

  ‘Don’t play with me.’ My heart beats in my ears, the blood in my veins vibrating with suppressed need.

  ‘You should be so lucky.’

  I answer her with a small smile as I try to conceal just what the thoughts of making her does to me. Who doesn’t like a little fight in a girl? It makes the win all the sweeter for her fight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  WILL

  My fingers twitch against the steering wheel with a mixture of anger and need, and I try not to tear out of the carpark in my rush to get her home. In my rush to get inside her. She has no fucking idea. And her anger? Fuck me, it makes me want her all the more. I want her rage—her scratching and biting as she comes around something other than my fingers this time. I crave the taste of her on my tongue and the feel of my dick in her throat.

  Sometimes sex and violence can go hand in hand. Boundaries can be blurred to satisfy a need. And acting? She has no idea how I can take up a role.

  ‘You want to know why I was quiet on the way over here?’ She turns her head to look at me, insolence written all over her face. Insolence I’ll replace with ecstasy sometime soon. ‘Because your assumptions were way fucking off, babe.’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ she whispers, turning her head back to the windscreen.

  ‘You don’t mind darling, or sweetheart, or love, but babe is off limits?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘How about slut? My sweet fucking whore? How do those work for you?’

  Cue a sharp intake of breath, and if I could watch her properly, I’d bet money on there being a flare in her gaze. Shock, absolutely. But something else, too.

  ‘N-no one has ever called me such names.’