Playing Up by Toria Lyons

Chapter One
    The
thumping nightclub music segued into a popular floor-filler and the
excited crowd surged around her, almost knocking her off her
too-high heels. Sian caught her balance just as two warm, strong
hands wrapped around her waist and steadied her from behind. She
sucked in her stomach, conscious of the extra few pounds spilling
over the waistband of the close-fitting trousers, and wondering who
the gentleman was who was quick enough to notice she was in
distress. The sea of revellers calmed, and the hands were removed
as quickly as they appeared.
    She carefully swivelled on her heels to see
Rob standing close to her, wide shoulders protecting from further
upset. A hot spark zinged through her belly. ‘Thanks for that,’ she
acknowledged with a smile, shouting over the music.
    He smiled back, his straight white teeth
shining in the club lights, contrasting with his short dark mussed
hair. ‘No problem, just glad you didn’t slap me for touching you
without permission.’
    So many responses flashed through her brain:
that he could put his hands on her any time and she wouldn’t
object; that she‘d love to touch him; that she’d want them to touch
each other. She opened her mouth to say something but his attention
was already distracted by a drink being handed to him. She decided
to leave it with a smile, ‘See you later.’
    As she walked carefully away, she mentally
kicked herself for not saying something more imaginative, something
flirtatious to get his attention.
    Clare was by the corner of the bar ordering a
couple of drinks and Sian joined her. ‘You’ll never guess what I’ve
gone and done now,’ she yelled over the music.
    ‘It’s got to be something embarrassing by the
look of regret on your face. Spit it out,’ commanded Clare.
    ‘Not really, but I completely missed out on
an ideal flirting opportunity with Mr Powell,’ she groaned. ‘I
almost fell into his arms due to these stupid shoes and this bloody
carpet, and all I could think of was a “See you later”. I’m so shit
at flirting.’
    ‘Never mind, you’ve got all night to make up
for it. And, despite the cheesiness of this place, there’s other
fish in the sea.’ Clare gestured around the packed nightclub.
‘Flames hasn’t changed much in the years we’ve been coming here;
there’s the sticky carpets, the naff decor and music, and the
perennial Saturday night rugby hordes looking for women to pull.
Plenty to choose from there.’
    Sian thumped her forehead against the nearby
wall, ‘But I can’t stop thinking about him; I have trouble even
looking at other men. He‘s just so, so hot. He really does it for
me.’ She pulled a strand of her long, curly, light brown hair
forward, covering her deep cleavage, ‘But he’ll never be interested
in me.’
    Clare patted her arm sympathetically, ‘Don’t
think like that. It’s his loss. Rugby players don't often meet
normal women for all the glamorous types swarming around. Although
he‘s not my type, Rob’s bloody attractive. For a prop.’
    Sian snorted, ‘Damned with faint praise,
thanks. We’ve never established what your type is though.’
    Clare pulled a face, ‘Not tossers like that
Luke. Although I can’t control my hormones, they seem to decide for
me. Damn things.’
    ‘Talking of hormones, and keeping them under
control, where’s Sarah disappeared off to?’
    They both looked around for their normally
reserved friend, to see her laughing and joking a few yards away
with a couple of dark-haired and well-built admirers.
    ‘Who’s that she’s with?’ shouted Sian.
    Clare yelled back, ‘That’s Nick and Sam, they
used to play for Harford Park. Both of them ask her out quite
regularly, but she always says no.’
    ‘She really doesn’t want a relationship, does
she?’
    ‘No, she doesn’t believe she’s suited for
them, especially not with a player. I have to agree with her after
the Luke debacle; I definitely got my fingers burnt. Now,