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The lift jerks suddenly. As it springs back into action Jamie’s feet remain firmly planted while I’m sent catapulting towards him. He catches me in his arms, wrapping them safely around me. My face is so close to his I can smell his aftershave. I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting him to be wearing aftershave, ahead of a game. Perhaps it disarms the other players? It’s certainly disarming me.

I could swear his face is moving closer to mine. Slowly but surely, like we might be about to kiss. In fact, his grip has changed from something holding me up to something softer. His hands are resting lightly on my hips, caressing them ever so gently.

Then the lift stops, pinging as the doors open to reveal an employee with an apologetic face.

‘It just needed resetting,’ he tells us.

Bloody hell – so do I. Because I’ve been single for a week – only a week – and I’m, what, melting into the arms of the first good-looking man to make a pass at me?

I’m calling it a pass – I suppose it was more like a moment of madness in a weird situation, like all bets are off when you’re trapped in a small, potentially dangerous space with someone. It’s an odd aphrodisiac, but an effective one.

‘Sorry about that,’ the staff member continues. ‘Got you out in time, though.’

Jamie checks his watch.

‘Just.’

He steps out, then turns and offers me a hand as though I am a high-society lady disembarking from a carriage, rather than a frazzled twenty-nine-year-old girl leaving a faulty lift.

I take it anyway.

‘And we didn’t even have to break into the champagne,’ I say, feeling instantly more at ease now I’m free.

‘That’s the important thing,’ he replies.

We head along the corridor towards the team areas, still laughing about the whole thing. The closer we get to the changing rooms, the busier it becomes.

Jamie walks beside me, easy and confident, carrying his champagne. For some reason, he’s still holding my hand.

‘See you after the game?’ he says.

‘Will you?’

‘You can have some of this, for you to commiserate.’

I glance at the bottle and smile.

‘I’ll be celebrating with Leeds,’ I correct him. ‘But thanks.’

‘We’ll see…’

‘You’re so confident, aren’t you?’ I reply with a laugh.

‘I’ve got reason to be.’

‘Do you?’

We almost walk straight into Eddy, who seemingly appears out of nowhere – but in reality comes from the Lions’ only area. The change is instant – one minute, Jamie is smiling, the next his body language changes. He stiffens; his jaw tightens.

Eddy is already in his kit. Blue shirt, white shorts, socks pulled up, tape around one wrist. He looks broader than ever in the narrow corridor. His expression is calm, generally unreadable as ever, but you can tell the mood has changed now that he’s seen me with Jamie. His gaze falls to our hands. I quickly let go.

‘Hi,’ I blurt.

‘Hi,’ he replies.

‘We were stuck in the lift,’ I’m quick to announce.

‘We nearly didn’t make it out in time for kick-off,’ Jamie adds.