Page 58 of Face Off
I grin, shaking my head. “Rookie mistakes are my specialty,” I reply lightly, while stealing a glance at Chloe. She catches it and smirks, just a flicker, and my stomach flips.
Jacko notices, of course, and leans in quietly. “Careful. Keep it subtle. The boys don’t need to know, and you don’t need Murphy interrogating you for the next hour.”
I nod, appreciating the advice, but my fingers twitch under the table. I can feel the tension in my chest building with each glance at her. She’s here, tangible and real, and yet still off-limits in this public arena.
After the formalities, the team drifts toward the lounge area. Drinks are poured, laughter louder, and the atmosphere softens. I can finally move closer to Chloe without too many eyes on us. She gives me a small, conspiratorial grin, and I know we’re both acknowledging the tension without speaking it aloud.
I slide onto the couch near her, pretending to sip my water while sneaking glances. She leans slightly toward me, brushing her hand against mine. A spark fires immediately, and I catch it, squeezing her fingers just once. Her eyes widen, amused and slightly mischievous.
“Careful,” she murmurs, teasing, but the heat in her gaze tells me she wants more.
“Careful is boring,” I whisper back, voice low enough that only she can hear. My thumb brushes over hers, slow, deliberate, testing her reaction.
Her lips twitch into a smirk. “You’re insufferable,” she murmurs.
“And you love it,” I counter, grinning, feeling the tension between us simmer like a live wire.
The night continues, the team mingling, Murphy recounting another ridiculous anecdote about last week’s training, Jacko quietly strategizing for the upcoming game, Dylan charming everyone in sight. I sit with Chloe, stealing touches, whispered comments, playful nudges, and private smiles, all while keeping the world at bay.
Eventually, the crowd thins, and it’s just the team and us. I glance at her, and her eyes meet mine. There’s no need for words. She understands. The sparks between us are undeniable.
“Shall we get out of here?” I murmur, leaning close enough that only she hears.
She bites her lip, nodding slightly, the playful glint still in her eyes. “Lead the way,” she whispers.
We slip past the remaining guests, unnoticed, our fingers entwining naturally. My pulse races, but there’s a thrill in the secrecy, in knowing that for these few moments, it’s just us.
Back in the locker room, after the team has packed up and left, I turn to her, a grin tugging at my lips. “Finally,” I murmur, voice low, playful, and teasing. “Alone.”
She smirks, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. “About time,” she replies, leaning in, the heat between us undeniable.
Our lips meet in a slow, teasing kiss, hands exploring subtly at first, rediscovering, relishing. The tension of the night, the secrecy, the stolen glances, all of it boils into the urgency of the moment.
The kiss deepens, hands sliding over familiar curves, brushing skin, teasing, tasting. Every brush of lips ignites sparks, every laugh and whisper intensifying the pull between us. We pause briefly, foreheads touching, breath mingling.
“I’ve missed this,” I murmur, voice rough with need and longing.
“Me too,” she whispers, eyes dark, filled with warmth and want.
We give in again, letting the private moment carry us, the world outside, media, sponsors, team dynamics, fading to nothing. For once, it’s just us.
Jonno clears his throat unexpectedly, and we jump apart, cheeks flushed, eyes wide.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHLOE
The sound of Jonno clearing his throat is like a bucket of ice water dumped over us.
I jump back so fast I nearly trip over the bench, and Ollie just about smashes his elbow against a locker trying to untangle himself from me. My lips are tingling, my heart is racing, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure my face is the colour of a ripe tomato.
Jonno raises one eyebrow, his arms folded like some sort of disapproving dad. His voice is calm, measured, way too calm.
“Again? Well, don’t let me interrupt.”
I want the floor to swallow me whole. Ollie, of course, just grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck like a schoolboy caught kissing behind the bike shed.
“Hey,” he says. “We were just…uh, team bonding.”
