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Hot water trickles down her body and she closes her eyes to fully savour the moment. Her muscles are pleasantly stretched out by the light morning jog to work. She came just in time to have a quick shower before the players and coaches usually start arriving.
Or at least that was what she had thought.
“Good mornin’.”
She would have preferred to do anything but what she does. Which is panicking, turning around and screaming bloody murder at Jamie Tartt.
“Shite, fuck, sorry!” is all she gets back from him before they both turn away in a hurry.
“How long have you been there?” she squeaks, mortified.
“I dunno, I just came in, thought you’re one of the petite ones or somethin’,” to her utter horror she hears a few plastic bottles drop onto the floor and water being turned on a few showerheads away from her.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Hey it’s not like I’m the one usin’ the showers for players without being a player.”
She dares to look at him, catching his gaze. “Fine, but don’t you dare tell anyone about this,” she warns.
“About what? That you look like Colin Huges from behind?” he sasses.
“Oi!” She throws her soap at Jamie and chuckles at his pathetic yelp when it hits him in the chest. “It’s not like you’re the poster image of a beefy hunk yourself.”
“Not many footballers are,” he deflects.
“Isaac is, and Dani…”
“Well now you’re just rude for the sake of being rude.”
“Roy also, in a way.”
“Not that I want to be like him,” he grumbles.
“Liar.”
“What in my behaviour made you think that?”
“Tell me why are you showering here and not in your million dollar shower at home?”
“Could ask you the same,” Jamie deflects again, this time a tad less cocky.
“I’m just a meagre HR assistant, it humbles me that you think I have a million dollar anything,” she laughs, “also besides the point.”
“The training with Roy went on a little longer today, wouldn't have made it here if I went home first,” he admits defeatedly.
She smirks, happy over her little victory, but there’s a silence that settles between them and it’s not of the pleasant kind. She sneaks another look at Jamie, this time not shying away from taking in other parts of him that aren’t his face. His muscles are defined but not at all in that overdone body-builder way. He’s not tall, but sort of matches her and she finds herself thinking it would be nice not to crane her neck as much for once. Most of all, he looks gorgeous with his hair slicked back.
Jamie catches her staring and raises his slitted eyebrow.
“It’s not a bad thing, you know, wanting to be better,” she tries to save the situation.
“I know,” he mumbles, but it is only more sombre, “just that I was really bad to start with.”
She snorts. “Yeah you were a real prick.”
“I was talking about me being a footballer!”
“Me too!” she raises voice at him, but giggles all the same.
When she turns to him again, he’s already looking at her. To his credit, his eyes do not stray away from her face. “Think I can be better?”
“You already are,” she smiles bright then adds lightly, gesturing to his back, “I mean look at that sculpted ass.”
In similar fashion as she did, Jamie throws her soap at her, she ducks in time to only take the hit to her back and they share a laugh together.
“You have a pretty arse too.”
“I’ll let Colin know,” she plays off of one of the comments he made prior, fighting a raging blush.
Finally, realising how much time they had spent there and that she needs to get out before more encounters present themselves, she turns off the shower.
“Good talk, Sweet tart,” she shoots at him, grabbing her towel off a hook to dry herself off.
“Tomorrow, same time, same place?” he shoots right back, and it’s not quite clear from his tone whether it’s a joke or something else.
“Same time, your place ,” she can’t help but tease.
“Bet.”