Page 28

I carry on walking, still glancing sideways at the photographs, until suddenly I’m not looking at a wall any more, I’m looking through a doorway, into a room – the Leeds Lions’ dressing room, it turns out. I stop in my tracks and stare.

It’s much brighter than I expected. I think I was expecting the cold, stony darkness of a PE changing room. The walls are white, with little blue and yellow accents here and there. Dark wood lockers line the walls, making a space for each player with shelves, hooks and a seat. A shiny gold name badge is mounted above each space, giving each player a dedicated area of their own.

But, honestly, I’m surprised I noticed any of it, because the most eye-catching thing isn’t a part of the room, it’s the only person in it.

I’m face to face with Eddy Hood – the man, not a portrait – and he would be looking almost exactly like one of his portraits were it not for one thing… he’s wearing nothing but a towel.

You don’t need to be a detective to realise he’s just come out of the shower. His hair is wet enough to drip, joining the droplets of water on his body, all rolling over his various muscles before dropping to the floor helplessly. I know how they feel.

The towel sits low around his waist – remarkably low, really, like it’s clinging on for dear life.

I knew he was a big bloke, of course I did, you can tell that with his clothes on, but without them… my gosh. He’s like a statue of Hercules. His muscles have muscles of their own. I’ll bet he’s hard as a rock to touch – his muscles, obviously. I’m not letting my mind drift beneath his towel because I’m at work, I’m a professional, I’m… positively swooning. I hope he can’t tell.

‘Oh my God!’ I blurt after what feels like a lifetime.

I clap a hand over my eyes, as though that’s a sure-fire way to prove I’m not a pervert.

‘I’m so sorry!’ I tell him. ‘I was looking for you and I was just… looking at the walls. At the murals, obviously, and I didn’t know where I was and…’

Eddy laughs. I look at him, from the neck up, obviously. He looks amused and welcoming somehow – completely comfortable. I mean, yeah, fair enough, I’d be comfortable in the nip around anyone if I looked like that. I had to use a public loo with a full-length mirror next to the toilet the other day, and I still haven’t recovered from seeing my stomach from that angle.

‘It’s all right,’ he assures me.

‘I can come back later!’ I say quickly, now studying the ceiling intensely, the spotlights burning purple dots into my vision. ‘I only wanted to talk, about what happened, just the two of us…’

It’s a lovely ceiling. Excellent lights. Very… bright. So bright I’ll be seeing them all day, taking them with me wherever I go.

‘Brooke,’ he says with a laugh.

‘Mmmhmm?’ I reply, still looking up.

‘It’s okay,’ he insists. ‘I’m used to sharing this room with seventeen other men – and countless staff members. You can’t be shy in rugby.’

Oh, I can, but I appreciate him trying to make me feel more at ease.

‘Come in, close the door,’ he suggests. ‘We can talk here, no one will come in today.’

‘Right, yeah, good idea,’ I babble, relieved to break eye contact while I close the door behind me.

I’m grateful that when I turn around my eyes manage to find his right away. I just need to hold them there, while we talk, and it will all be fine.

‘I just wanted to explain what happened in Bryan’s office,’ I tell him. ‘He called me in, said that you were going to be in trouble for what happened, that it might cost you your spot on the England team, and I felt so guilty, because it was me who got you into that mess, so I panicked. I went into PR mode, crafting a story, coming up with the right spin to make it okay – saying that you were my boyfriend was the best I could do on the spot.’

‘Well, it worked,’ he points out. ‘I’ve seen Bravo mad and this isn’t it. You could tell he was relieved, that you’d given him something.’

‘I just… I hope you don’t mind,’ I continue.

‘You’re the one who has to babysit me now,’ he jokes.

‘And I will do it happily, because you really helped me out, and honestly, seeing Ron get even a tiny bit of comeuppance will probably be the thing that gets me through this.’

He laughs.

‘Happy to do it,’ he replies.

‘Truthfully, I’m on a trial here, so thinking about it, it won’t be the worst thing for me to be attached to you,’ I point out. ‘We can help each other out, get each other through the end of the season, and then, well, people break up all the time, right?’

‘Right,’ he replies. ‘So we just… pretend to be into each other, help each other out, and then…’