26. Taran

Grinning as her message pops up, I'm excited to see what she's typed.

I hold my breath a moment, waiting for it to appear. This little banter is more fun than I expected it to be.

Touché! But remember, it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog. Or something like that.

I laugh out loud. Quickly, I type back.

Is that your idea of trash talk, Thornton?

Her reply comes almost instantly.

I do better in person.

For the first time in my life, I got nothing. She has sideswiped me, but then I leap into action before this opportunity disappears.

Is that you asking me out?

My hands are shaking as I wait for her reply.

It doesn't come.

"Fuck, Fraser, you fucking cockhead." I groan, throwing my head back as I lift my feet onto the railing of the apartment balcony.

My heart thuds as the message finally pops up.

Do you usually wait for women to ask you out, Fraser?

My reply is instant.

Yes. I'm the shy sort.

Her reply is even quicker. A stream of laughing emojis that make me snicker.

So I type out:

Nice. You're mocking me.

Get over yourself. Have you looked in a mirror lately?

My heart thuds. She's been looking at me?

I grin, feeling a surge of confidence. This was unexpected and thrilling.

Does that mean you find me attractive, Thornton?

Her response is almost immediate.

Don't let it go to your head. Just an observation.

I chuckle, shaking my head. This woman is something else.

So, when are you going to observe me in person?

There's a pause before her next message arrives.

Tomorrow night?

I sit up straighter, reading the message again and then again to make sure I've got it right before I make a total fool of myself.

You're buying. You know Metros in town?

No, but I'll find it. BTW, this is not a date. I don't fraternise with the enemy.

Who called it a date? Your arrogance is showing, Thornton.

Cringing when she doesn't reply immediately, I wait. She will. She'll take it as a joke. Won't she?

Not arrogance, caution, Fraser. I've got a rep to build.

Her message has a serious note, which gives me pause. I tone down the playful banter as I reply.

My place then?

The eye roll emoji is fired back at me in the next second, followed by:

Smooth, but let's keep it public.

So, you want people to see us then?

It might dispel a rumour or two.

You mean you and Drummond? Saw that, You aren't having secret sex then?

Shaking my head, I just couldn't help myself.

LOL. No, no secret sex or otherwise. He was helping me battle the weather.

Lucky him.

You're a dick, you know that?

Grinning, I know I've got her hooked.

Not surprising seeing the size of it.

If you send me a dick pic, I'm blocking you.

We aren't there yet, Red. Give it time.

In your dreams. I don't want to see your dick.

You won't be saying that after you've seen it.

Shut the fuck up and go away now.

7 PM, tomorrow?

Yeah, I'll be there.

I don't reply. I leave it at that. She has agreed to go out on a date with me, which is more than I could have ever hoped for in my first interaction with her, which wasn't even face-to-face. It's a date in all but name, and I know she knows it too, even if she won't admit it. I leap up, a restless energy surging through me. I need to burn off some steam before I do something stupid like send her another message and ruin everything. This was the perfect interaction, teasing and flirty enough to keep the spark alive but not so much as to scare her off. I head into the built-in gym in one of the spare bedrooms of this four-bedroom apartment. I grew up with money, so luxury is something I have come to expect.

The weight of the barbell feels good in my hands. It focuses me. I'm glad for the distraction as I start my reps. Tomorrow night, Emma Thornton and I will be in the same space, outside the arena where our teams clash. Both of us will be playing a game we've yet to learn the rules of.

As my feet hit the treadmill, I smile slowly. This is all falling into place. The rhythmic thud of my trainers against the belt is like a drumroll leading up to the big event. Tomorrow night with Emma is going to be interesting, to say the least. She's feisty, and I can tell she's not going to make it easy for me. But then, where's the fun in easy?

After a gruelling workout session that leaves my muscles burning and my mind surprisingly clear, I send her one last message before I can back out.

Sweet dreams, Red. Don't dream of me too much.

I chuckle at my audacity as I hit send. It's cheeky, sure, but it's also me being me. It's got me this far with her, so I have to take it as a good sign as I hit the shower before grabbing dinner and crashing in front of the TV.