The thumping nightclub music segued into to 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 around her waist steadied her from behind. She sucked in her breath, conscious of the extra few pounds spilling over the waistband of her 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 at her, 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 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 something embarrassing, I can tell. Spit it out,' ordered Clare.
'Not really, but I completely missed out on an ideal flirting opportunity with Mr Powell,' she groaned.
'Never mind, you've got all night to make up for it. And there's other fish in the sea.'
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.' She pulled a strand of her long, curly, light brown hair forward, 'And he'll never be interested in me.'
Clare patted her arm sympathetically, 'Don't think like that. That's how I was with Alex, but I still had fun before we eventually got together. And although he's not my type, Rob's bloody attractive. For a prop.'
Sian giggled, 'Damned with faint praise, thanks. Now let's dance.'
They left their drinks in a quiet corner with a couple of familiar faces keeping an eye on them, and moved a few feet to the dance floor to enjoy the rhythm of the music. Every now and again, each discreetly signalled and laughed when they saw a cute man, Clare doing this even though she was happily married. Sian caught a few glimpses of Rob but purposefully kept her eyes away. When Alex joined them, Sian gave them some space while he playfully scolded his wife for her misbehaviour. She went to pick up her drink, discovering that Rob's group was only a few yards away from them.
She tried not to look, but found her gaze was drawn irresistibly towards him. His body just did it for her, from the dark t-shirt which clung lovingly to his thickly muscled upper body, to the well-worn jeans which hugged his tight arse and strong, broad thighs. He turned around and caught her looking his way. His eyes smiled at hers, 'How are you?' he mouthed.
'Great,' she smiled back, 'Good game today?'
He looked puzzled as if he couldn't hear her and gestured that he'd come over. As he stepped nearer, her tummy began to roil with nerves and anticipation.
When he was closer, she tried again, 'Good game today?'
'Not bad. It was nice to get the whole eighty minutes.'
'For a prop that's like running a marathon.'
He laughed, 'That's right, except for more bruises.'
'First time this season too?'
'You're correct, it was.' He looked more curiously at her.
Silently she cursed herself; that was too observant. 'Someone else worked it out, not me,' she filled, 'but it looked like you still had plenty of energy, that was a great try-saving tackle in injury time.'
'Thanks again. How long have you been supporting Harford?'
'Since I moved here from Cornwall six months ago.'
'Isn't Sian a Welsh name?'
'My mother liked it, and my father was half-Welsh. He insisted on the spelling, S I A N not how it's pronounced, Sharn.'
'Oh, okay then.'
They stood awkwardly, Sian trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. 'So, do you come here often?' she quipped lightly.
'Now and again. I'm only having a couple of beers tonight as I'm driving some of the boys home later.'
'That's nice of you.'
'I'm a nice man.'
'I can see that, I mean...' she was glad that the dim lighting covered her blush, 'I mean you seem like a nice man. I don't know you well enough to agree. You could be an axe-wielding maniac for all I know.'
'Do you know many axe-wielding maniacs then?'
Sian giggled, 'Just one or two, for some reason they seem to be attracted to me.'