Murphy is Murphy; loud, chaotic, incorrigible. But with me? He’s also kind. Attentive. Sweet in ways I never expected. He remembered how I take my tea. He made me pancakes. He kissed my forehead when I got shy. And this morning, he sent me a selfie from the gym captioned“thinking about your bum during squats”.
I nearly choked on my peppermint tea.
I’m still staring at his smug grin in the photo when Mia’s name pops up on my screen.
Mia: Drink after work? I need to hear everything.
Sophie: Yes please. 6pm? Usual pub?
Mia: I’ll be there.
Just after five, I’m speed-walking out of the hospital, coat half-buttoned, Murphy’s hoodiedefinitelyhidden under my smart wool blazer, and my heart floating several feet above the pavement.
The pub’s only a few streets away, it’s a low-ceilinged place that smells of spiced chips and wood polish, tucked away from the usual after-office crowd. I find a table by the window, order two glasses of wine, and sink into the booth just as Mia appears in the doorway.
She spots me and makes a beeline over, shaking out her hair like she’s walked out of a shampoo ad.
“You,” she says, plopping down. “You areglowing.”
I groan. “Oh God. Am I?”
“Yes. It’s disgusting.”
We clink glasses.
“So?” she says, eyes sparkling. “Is it official? Are you together? Are you in love? Did he do that thing with his stupid jaw when he kisses you?”
I laugh so hard I nearly snort. “Yesto everything.”
Mia shrieks like she’s won a game show and grabs my hand. “Tell me everything. Word for word. Don’t skip the sexy bits.”
I shake my head, flushed. “Honestly, Mia, I don’t even know where tostart. I think I fell for him on the rink.”
“During the goal?”
“No, before that. When he skated over and made that heart on the glass.”
Mia puts a hand over her heart. “He’s so dramatic. I love it.”
“It was stupid and corny, and I think it actually broke my brain. Then after the game we… well he just…said it. Out loud. That he was in love with me.”
Mia’s jaw drops. “What?He saidthat? Already?”
I nod, feeling the same electric buzz I felt that night. “Yeah. Like he’d been holding it in and couldn’t anymore.”
Mia stares at me for a second and then lets out a low whistle. “Bloody hell, Soph. You’ve got him.”
“I think I’vehadhim,” I say, smirking into my wine.
She cackles.
We spend the next hour giddy and pink-cheeked, dissecting everything from our first proper kiss, to the sleepover, the pancakes, and the hoodie theft. Mia’s glowing too, even if she tries to hide it. Every time I mention Murphy doing something sweet, she smiles like her heart’s caught the light.
“You think this’ll get complicated with the team?” I ask eventually.
Mia sips her wine carefully. “It might. But not in a way I’m scared of. I think if anything, Murphy being happy makesDylanhappy.”
By the time we leave the pub, our cheeks are flushed, our bags are heavier with gossip, and our hearts are a little fuller.