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Roy stares blankly at Keeley. He’s never heard anything remotely as ridiculous as the words that have just come out of her mouth.
“What’s that?” he asks, shaking his head just a bit.
Keeley charges her way around him right here in the hall, stopping in front of him. She smells so good, like a fresh ocean breeze, and he has to shake his head again to make sure he stays focused. He doesn’t like it when she’s this close to him. It’s distracting. But since she’s taken over his marketing, along with working for so much of the team, there have been multiple times when she’s been this close. He had assumed it would get easier. It isn’t getting easier.
“Roy, come on. I know you heard me. It’s People’s Sexiest Man Alive issue. This is a big deal!” She thrusts some papers into his hands, and it looks like People’s letterhead. As he tries to read and understand all the papers, Keeley presses even closer to him. He has to give up completely on reading to put all of his energy into staying absolutely still, and not swaying into her warmth.
“Don’t go thinking you’re all that, now. It’s not THE sexiest man alive. Crikey, that would be something! No, they’ve got a section on sexiest athletes, and yours truly here not only got your name in the running, but got you a spot. You’re welcome!”
Keeley laughs and wraps her arms around his waist, giving him no choice. He lifts his arms and holds her close. He can do this. She’s a hugger. They’re friends and they’ve hugged before. It’s fine.
"Sexiest Man Alive? I never got in there even in my younger days. And they want me now?” Roy can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. He pulls away from Keeley’s hug and looks down at her smiling face.
“Men get better with age, Roy. Now’s the perfect time for you. You’re in great shape, and you can tell them about all the books you like to read. The ladies will go crazy for that.”
Roy shakes his head again. There is really only one lady he cares about and she doesn’t seem to be going crazy at all. Just friendly as usual, but with that little smile she always gives him.
He’s decided the smile is just for him. But what does he know? Maybe she gives that smile to other blokes too. And it doesn’t matter! Because they are just friends. Well, friends and professional co-workers. And that’s enough.
On days when she spends her time with Richard or Sam on their marketing, she stops by the training room to check in with him—even if there isn’t an update on any of his branding projects. She does that for all the lads, really. She’s gregarious and very good at her job.
Roy catches sight of Rebecca coming down the hallway heading toward the elevator, talking on her phone. Keeley sees her, too, and grabs her attention.
“Hey, Rebecca, here’s a big deal! Roy’s going to be featured in People’s Sexiest Man Alive issue! How about that! Our sexy guy.” Keeley ends with a poke to Roy’s chest that sort of turns into a stroke over his pec to his arm. Why does she have to touch him like this?
Roy can feel his face growing hot and looks around hoping for Coach or Coach Beard or someone to appear and save him from this.
Rebecca holds her phone away from her ear, looking Roy up and down. “Well that will come with some nice publicity. I’ve been to their gala dinner before, many years ago. It’s an opportunity to schmooze and make good connections. Be sure to get us a table, Keeley.” With that Rebecca returns to her long, sure strides down the hall, back to talking on her phone.
“Oi, hold on! What gala dinner? What’s that about?” Roy does the team’s annual charity gala every year, but that is all the dressing up he really wants to do. All the people, all the small talk—it’s just so much. He’d rather do two extra hours of training.
Keeley tries to soothe him, but he isn’t keen on letting her. “It’s alright, it’ll be fine. You can bring a date, whoever you’re seeing. Rebecca will be there, probably Ted—we’ll have a nice group.”
Roy stands with his arms hanging down at his sides, wondering if he has to do this. There’s no need, really. “What if I don’t have a date? Is that required?”
Keeley clucks at him. “I’m sure it’s fine to go stag. I mean, you’ll need to talk about your love life to the magazine anyway. Maybe publicizing your singleness is a good way to get some dates, if you’re having a dry spell.” Keeley looks like she wants to say more and is biting her tongue with an evil grin.
“I am not, thank you very much, having a dry spell. Jesus. I’m just not seeing anyone right now.” Roy heads into the changing room, where he had been going before Keeley waylaid him with this “big” news.
~~~~~
Roy breathes deeply as he eats his sandwich. When it’s nice like this, sunny with just a bit of wind, it feels good to be outside and sitting, not running. A little bit of peace, the last few chapters of his book. He lets a tiny smile bend his lips.
“What’cha reading now, then?” Keeley asks as she comes up right beside him and sits down. Always so close! Doesn’t she know what a boundary is? Or how to stay out of his personal space? It’s like he’s a magnet, and she’s a, a what? A pile of iron filings like at the Science Center he visited with Phoebe last month? And what would actually help is if she would just sit on the other side of the bench instead of on top of him.
Roy sighs, places his bookmark, and closes the book. “It’s a sci-fi adventure. I’m almost finished.”
“That’s probably good, I guess. I usually go for a bit more romance, myself. So… just wanted to check in. It seems like you had a big reaction to the whole Sexiest Man Alive gala...situation. What was that about?”
Keely’s so good at just saying things. It’s one of the things he loves— likes most about her. She says whatever she’s thinking without holding it in till she explodes.
“Are you asking as a friend, or as my publicist?” Roy clenches his jaw and his book. He doesn’t feel at all prepared to talk about his feelings around this topic with the person who is the topic of his fucking feelings.
“Is your answer different depending?”
“Maybe. No. I don’t know."
“Roy, I’m asking as your friend, then, ok? What’s going on?”
Roy takes a deep breath. “If I do the interview, and then get all dressed up and go to the gala, but I’m single, I’ll never get a moment’s peace. I’ve seen it happen with other chaps. There’ll be swarms of requests and random direct messages, and I’ll have to wade through it all. I just don’t think I want to do that. I mean, I’m fucking okay being single when I’m just working, training. It feels a bit different when it’s out there in a magazine, right?”
Bloody hell he hates saying so much. Even though they’re friends. Maybe especially since they’re friends.
Roy looks out across the pitch, keeping his face as neutral as he can. But the silence just drags on. Keeley isn’t saying anything back. She thinks I’m pathetic. She’d never be attracted to such a wanker.
Roy finally dares to look back at Keeley, bracing himself for the pitying look he’s sure he’ll see. Instead, he’s faced with Thoughtful Keeley, head tilted to the side, ponytail flopped over her shoulder, and a gleam in her eye. This might actually be worse than pity, depending on what her thoughts lead to.
“Makes sense, actually. Can’t say’s I blame you. It has been awhile since you’ve had a bird on your arm, hasn’t it? Keeley looks away briefly, but is right back looking deep into his soul a moment later—or so it seems.
“Alright, how about we do us?” She motions between the two of them with the hand not pulling on her ponytail.
“What then?” Roy is getting tired of feeling like he can’t keep up with things—with her. One of the things that makes Keeley’s friendship so lovely is how quick she is, how smart. But usually he can keep up. He doesn’t like scrambling.
“Us. We could be a couple. I could be your girlfriend, couldn’t I?”
Roy feels all the color drain from his face. Was this happening? He stares at Keeley, unable to make his brain and his mouth work together to respond in any way. He’s envisioned them hooking up, pictured them cooking together at his flat, imagined what it would be like to bring her to Christmas so that they could read together with Phoebe. But he’s never actually pictured how they would get together at the start…
“We could give the interviewer some good quotes and some photos, then attend the gala together. You know I do well on a red carpet.” Keeley shimmies back and forth and flips her hair. “Then once all the excitement has died down a bit, we can have an amicable ‘break-up’ and no one will realize it was all for show.”
Roy can feel the color return to his face in a flash. “Oh. Yeah, of course. I get it. For the press then.”
“Yeah, but we like each other, so it’ll be fun, right? Like a little secret we’re keeping.”
“Right.” Roy sighs to himself. Right.
~~~~~~
Keeley runs up to Roy and throws her arms around him, as always. Since they are “dating” now, he can actually just relax into it, right?
“Perfect place for our prep dinner, Roy! I love a good curry. It’ll be perfect for practicing kissing later, to have spicy breath.” Keeley is always enthusiastic, always warm. Even her sarcasm makes him feel like he’s being wrapped in a soft blanket. Dammit. He can’t let his guard down—this is all for show. For the press.
“Wait, did you say—practicicing kissing? I don’t need to practice kissing, what do you think?”
Keeley looks at him like he needs extra time on his O levels. “Roy, come on then. We’re supposed to be dating! We’ll have to decide for how long and all that, but presumably we haven’t just started. So we’ll need to be able to hold hands...put arms around shoulders, do some appropriate-for-the-public PDA...without it seeming weird, mate!” Keely pushed him back with a breathless laugh.
With each mention of hands, arms, and shoulders, Keeley had demonstrated the action. Roy could feel himself start to relax at the soft touch of Keeley’s fingers lacing through his, tracing up his arm, and then reaching around his shoulder to pull him toward her. And then the spell was broken with her shove at the end, just as his eyes had started to close, thinking a kiss, their first kiss, was about to happen.
“Come on, let’s eat.” Roy leads Keeley into the restaurant, where they are seated immediately. During dinner Roy and Keeley agree that they have been dating in secret for five months, that their friendship led to this “lovely change in their relationship,” and that this feature in People is the “perfect opportunity to let my fans know how happy I am.”
“Uhhhh,” Roy groans as they sip their coffees. “This just isn’t how I talk, Keeley. Honestly, you know that.”
Keeley presses her serviette to her lips and places it gently on the table. “Come on then. We need to walk off all this rice and naan.”
As they start down the street, Keeley reaches over and grabs his hand. He allows it with only a small jerk of his arm. He normally spends all of his time trying not to touch her, trying to be her friend and nothing more. It’s scary how easy it is to start letting that go, to lean in to something more. Even if the something more is not real and only temporary.
“See, that’s easy. We’re holding hands. It’s nice.” Keeley swings their joined hands lightly back and forth in time with their strides. Roy feels like every nerve ending in his body is centered on where their hands are connected. He’s not sure how he’ll be able to focus on anything but their hands, but he likes the feeling and is happy to risk it.
Roy lets Keeley set the pace, stopping to look in shop windows as they talk about the books they are reading and the new recipes they are each trying on weekends. The same conversations they always have, easy and fun, but tonight with Keeley’s smaller hand tucked securely in his.
They grab gelato just before the shop closes and find a bench facing the neighborhood square. Soon they’ll need to head back to their cars and wrap up the evening. Roy feels like he could go on like this all night. This fake date is better than any date he can remember in the past year. He wonders how Keeley’s feeling about it. Just then she starts to speak.
“Well this all feels normal and comfortable, doesn’t it? I wager we’ll fool everyone who needs to be fooled. Like the interviewer, of course. But also the team, Ted, and Rebecca,” Keeley says as she finishes her stracciatella. She looks hopefully at Roy. She wants him to be happy, he can tell.
He manages a grimace. It hadn’t occurred to him that the only way to make it work for the press would be to fake it at the Club, as well. And that means in front of family, too, since Phoebe can’t be trusted not to just blurt things out. She’ll grow out of that eventually, he hopes.
“Yeah. No problem.”
Keeley grabs his empty cup and then proceeds to lean over him to deposit both cups in the bin next to the bench. Why? Why is she leaning over him like that when he could have just tossed them? He holds his breath and tries not to smell her hair. But he catches a whiff of mint even so.
She doesn’t pull back—why is she still leaning into his chest like this?
“We need to practice more PDA than just hand-holding, Roy. Want to try some kissing? We want it to look like...well, like we want to actually be kissing each other.” Keeley’s warm breath blows on his neck as she looks up at him.
Shouldn’t be any problem at all, Roy thinks as he meets her eyes and bends his neck down just enough to meet her lips coming up to his. His eyes close and all the feeling that had been in his hand earlier during their walk is now centered completely on his lips where they meet hers.
The darkness behind his eyelids is sparkling with pinpricks of light as her soft lips move slowly over his. He catches his breath and Keeley does hers as well. Their lips part for just a moment and immediately slot back together, this time slightly open and less tentative.
Roy lost count a long time ago of the number of kisses he’s shared. He couldn’t even say, really, how many women he’s been with. One of the perks, if you will, of being a famous footballer. But this kiss—with this woman—even though it’s a practice kiss for a fake relationship—he’s never going to forget it.
Keeley pulls back first, clearing her throat and laughing a little. “Well, how was that for you? Seems like maybe we don’t need much practice with that after all?” She scoots across the bench and opens her purse, digging around until she finds her lipstick.
Roy straightens up, runs his hand through his hair and then rubs his lips with the back of his hand. “Ok, I think we’ve got that part alright.” What else could he say?
~~~~~~
The day of the interview and photo shoot is fine. Roy’s used to being interviewed, and has done a few fashion spreads in his day, for charity and the like. So the waiting around and then the talking about himself for way too long is something he can get through.
Keeley is there, bustling around, doing her job and charming everyone in the process. He keeps a close eye on her, and she winks at him every time their eyes meet. When it comes time to answer the reporters inevitable questions about his “romantic life” he calls her over just like they talked about, answers the questions like they rehearsed, and can’t help but give a genuine smile when she perches on the arm of his chair and gives him a squeeze.
“I mean, how could I resist him, right? He’s really smart, he’s fit, and wow does he love his family. And—this is a big one—he treats me right! Hands off ladies, he’s all mine,” Keeley shakes a finger at the reporter, laughing. Then she leans down and kisses his cheek with another laugh.
He can’t look away from her when she’s like this, in full-charming mode with everyone. Who’s he kidding, though. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to focus on much else but her whenever she’s anywhere around.
He only wishes she might feel the same. But she’s never given any indication of romantic interest. It seems like she’s being careful since her break-up with Jamie, not mentioning anyone new. Their friendship has grown as they’ve worked together. He’s grateful for that. He hasn’t been friends with too many women in his life—he’s always on the pitch, always working. Now he’s got his friends at yoga. And Keeley.
~~~~~
Several weeks go by and the magazine alerts Roy that the press release and preview articles will be out on Tuesday. According to the same email, his invitation to the gala will be arriving in the mail around the same time. So this is it. Go time for Ray and Keeley, the couple. Shit.
Keeley catches Roy in the Club hallway early the next day.
“I assume you got the email about the preview articles coming next week?” she asks with no preamble.
“Yeah, of course I did.” He keeps walking toward the changing room. Keeley grabs his arm and pulls him to a halt.
“So. Tuesday is soon. Want to make a plan?” She looks up at him expectantly, with a gleam in her eye that he can’t place. She doesn’t let go of his arm, and he can feel each of her fingertips burning into his skin. That gleam is a challenge, is what it is.
“Yeah, we probably need a plan. Or do you want to just jump right in?” With that he reaches over to grab her arm, pulling them face-to-face with only a couple of inches between them. “We know we need everyone here to think we are dating. Want to start now, then?”
Keeley draws in a breath and tilts her head back. “Why not?”
And then they’re kissing. In the hallway. At the Club. Which should feel embarrassing. But instead it’s invigorating. Roy uses his last working brain cell to pull away before things get workplace-inappropriate.
“Hope training goes well, love,” Keeley says with a laugh as she lets go and starts down the hall. She stops almost immediately and comes back, passing him as she mutters, “I need to go this way now.”
Roy is dreading having everyone asking questions about his personal life. Roy is, however, very much looking forward to kissing Keeley many more times in the next week.
Word spreads quickly, with the requisite harassment from his teammates followed by an invitation to Coach’s office. When Roy walks in to the expectant faces of Nate, Higgins, Coach Beard, and Coach he immediately realizes it’s the “Diamond Dogs” and turns around shouting a “Fuck, no!” over his shoulder as he stalks out.
And before he knows it Tuesday arrives, People puts out their preview article, a million other outlets pick up the news, he ends up doing three local interviews, and his sister calls to confirm he’s got a girlfriend she’s unaware of.
By evening he’s exhausted and hasn’t seen Keeley since lunch so there hasn’t even been any fake kissing to alleviate the strain. Only two weeks to the gala. He can do this.
Turns out that faking it in front of the team is easy, and the two weeks go by quickly. Both Roy and Keeley are busy and meet up for lunch, like they usually do, a couple times a week. There’s really no reason to do things too differently. There are a few “babes” and “loves” thrown into conversation when other people are around.
He does have to fight off his sister’s invitations for them to come to dinner. Damned if he’s going to make Phoebe think that “Aunt Keeley” is going to be a thing . This all feels too good as it is. His heart is going to be broken when this charade is over—no use hurting his best girl as well.
~~~~~~
The day of the gala Roy gets to skip training. “Gets to” is annoying, really. He has to skip training in order to go to the hairdresser, get a massage, have a final fitting on his suit, and meet Keeley at the hotel at 4:30. She tells him via text that morning that once they check-in there will be plenty of time to relax and get ready. But he doesn’t want all this free time, all this relaxation. Not getting to do drills and run till he’s fucking exhausted means his body and his mind are thrumming with energy that he doesn’t know what to do with.
He solves the problem by arriving at the hotel at 3:30. The front desk is delighted to welcome him and gives him a keycard to the workout room. Fifty-five minutes later he’s run three miles and done two quick circuits and has absolutely not spent the entire workout reliving and ranking the kisses he and Keeley have shared to date. He grabs a towel and his bag and heads to the lobby to meet her. He’ll take a shower as soon as they get to their room.
The lobby is buzzing now in a way it wasn’t an hour ago. Roy recognizes other sports and television stars with their entourages milling around, along with some press, and all he wants is to get upstairs as soon as possible. He sees Keeley at the check-in desk talking animatedly with the front desk clerk who is handing over keycards and paperwork. Roy steps up beside Keeley with a grunt. “Hey.”
“Roy, love! Excellent. I was just finishing up with Bea here. We’re all checked in to our room. Junior Suite 1014. Our clothes for tonight are already there. Ready to head up?” Though Keeley doesn’t meet his eyes—she’s looking back at the clerk, then over his shoulder, then smiling down at the bag in his hand—she runs her hand from his shoulder down to his hand, giving it a little squeeze. He shivers a bit. Because of the drying sweat from his workout, obviously.
“Yeah, let’s go.” They pass on the first full elevator where the Sunday BBC Breakfast presenter has evidently brought all of his colleagues along for the evening. The next elevator is mercifully empty and Roy brusquely punches the button for the 10th floor.
Their suite is down the hall far from the elevator, and Keeley stays quiet during the brisk walk there. The keycard works smoothly and they are inside. Together. Alone. Before they even get past the threshold Keeley is spinning around to face him, walking backwards into the living room.
“Don’t be mad about this, ok? We’re going to be fine and we’ll laugh about it later, I know we will.” What is she going on about, anyway? Roy just wants a shower.
He steps around Keeley to head to the bedroom. Keeley stands still and stops talking. As he approaches the doorway and looks in he comes to a full stop. There is only one bed. One beautifully made-up, covered-in-decorative-pillows, bed. Roy begins to growl with each exhale. He can’t control it, it’s just happening.
Keeley runs around in front of him and grabs his hands.
“Roy, Roy! Come on! I’m sorry. It has to be this way—you know it does. If we booked two beds the staff would talk . And that talk would get out—you know it would. I should have told you, I know. But I didn’t want you to get upset.” She has the decency to look sheepish, anyway, while she’s squeezing his hands and shaking his arms a bit, trying to get him to look at her.
Which he just can’t do. He can’t sleep in the same bed as her. He cannot do it. It’s too much.
With a big intake of breath and a slow exhale that contains less growling than before, Roy finally looks at Keeley. He keeps his eyes half-closed, fearful that she will see all the feelings he has so far successfully hidden from her. “Alright, I can sleep on the sofa. I’m going to shower now.”
He heads through the bedroom and into the bathroom, slamming the door against her protests.
Despite his anger and embarrassment, or maybe because of it, he has a wank in the shower. Taking the edge off before spending the entire evening close to Keeley, who is no doubt going to smell good and look incredible. Self-preservation is the name of the game tonight.
When he steps out of the bathroom wrapped in one of the hotel’s robes, Keeley isn’t in the bedroom. Roy spies her curled up in a wingback chair poking at her phone. She looks up and opens her mouth but Roy puts up a hand before she can speak.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Sorry. I was just surprised. You’re only doing this to help me, so thank you. The bed is huge. We’ll be able to share.” He lets out the rest of the breath he’s holding.
Keeley jumps out of the chair and comes over to him. She grabs the lapels of his robe and tugs at them with a smile. “I trust you, yeah? You can be a proper gentleman when you want to be.” She leans in to him, causing him to stiffen his spine. There’s no one around to see them, yet here she is being flirty.
Keeley’s voice lowers a bit and she half-whispers, “Wow, the bodywash here is lovely, innit? I guess I’d better take my turn. We are both going to be gorgeous tonight, I just know it.” And with that she gently shoves him away and heads toward the bathroom.
“Hey now, I still need to do my hair…” Roy calls, but she’s already closed the door and turned on her music. He looks around the spacious room with a sigh, heading toward the minibar.
They both manage to get dressed and ready to go without any more embarrassment. Roy not only helps Keeley get zipped into her short, green, sequined dress, but also hooks the clasps on her necklace and her bracelet. All while not thinking about how her makeup is perfect and her hair is nicer than he’s ever seen it. Her reaction to his tuxedo is appreciative, but he ignores her wolf-whistle to hurry them along. The sooner this night gets started the sooner it will be over.
As they head downstairs Keeley regales Roy with stories about the magazine staff she’s been interacting with, along with her run-in in the loo with the manager of Britain’s number one Rugby player (“She honestly would not hand me any paper towels! In too much of a hurry to help a sister out? What the hell!”). While not quite relaxed, Roy realizes that if he has to face the gauntlet of people at an event like this, being with Keeley is the way he wants to do it.
The first two people they see as they get ready to enter the ballroom are Rebecca and Coach Lasso, dressed up just like he and Keeley are.
“Well, looky-here, if it ain’t the lovebirds of AFC Richmond!” Coach shouts out, pulling Keeley into a side-hug. “Congrats on your big night here, Roy, and I’m not even joking. My ex-wife lives for the Sexiest Man Alive edition every year. Bet she isn’t the only one.”
Roy stares at Coach’s hand, thrust out for a friendly shake. With a sigh he finally takes it. Might as well get started being friendly. Keeley is giving him the “go on” look.
“Thanks, Coach.”
Rebecca and Keeley air kiss each other's cheeks and exclaim over each other's clothes. With promises to reconvene at the Club’s table when dinner starts, Rebecca puts her arm through Ted’s crooked elbow and leans in to whisper something in his ear as they head into the crowd.
Keeley slaps Roy’s shoulder. “Ow! What was that for?” he grumbles.
“Do you think they are here together, or are they here together?” Keely waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Rebecca’s not said anything to me about anything like that.” Keeley waves her hand in the direction of the departing couple.
Roy cocks an eyebrow. Now that’s interesting to consider. “Let’s keep an eye on them to see what we can find out tonight,” he says with a wink. Keeley giggles in response and grabs his elbow, which is just fine with him.
The gala itself is everything he knew it would be. Loads of people, fancy food, background music, and the need to keep reminding himself not to scowl. Fortunately Keeley is in her element, charming geezers with off-color jokes, hand-feeding him appetizers whenever a cameraperson strolls by, and sticking close by his side whether they are surrounded by people or find themselves in a quiet corner for a moment.
Roy switches to sparkling water after two drinks. No way is he taking a chance of even being tipsy when the prospect of a night in the same bed as Keeley looms. He sees Keeley notice the water, and is glad she doesn’t say anything.
Roy finds himself relaxing into her closeness as the evening progresses. He puts his arm around her shoulders, pulls her tight for photos, and lets himself pretend that them being here together is actually real. Roy feels lighter the later it gets, whereas usually he’s anxious to be gone before an event like this has even gotten started.
During dinner he and Keeley kick at each other under the table whenever Coach or Rebecca does anything even remotely non-platonic. There are some whispers, some laughter, and some feeding of bites of dessert that make it seem like there might be something there there, which surprisingly pleases Roy. Coach, annoyingly, is a good man. He deserves some happiness. And God knows Rebecca has been easier to work with in recent weeks. Maybe this is why.
Finally things start to wind down. Roy should feel depleted—the press people got their quotes and photos, the fans got their autographs and selfies. He’s definitely ready to get out of his clothes—this tie is about to strangle him. But Keeley’s got her hand in his and he never, ever wants that part to end.
As they meander to the elevator, their hands stay intertwined. As Roy reaches to hit the “up” button Keeley sticks close to his side so that they are leaning together toward the elevator panel and then back to an upright position. She stays plastered against his side and grabs his bicep with her free hand, giving him a squeeze and then leaving her hand there.
Roy could stay like this forever—one of Keeley’s hands in his, the other warming his skin through his jacket and shirt. He’s done so well all night. While pretending that her flirting and affection is real, he relaxed enough to joke around and be pleasant to all the right people.
But now he’s facing reality. Heading back to a shared hotel room with one of the best friends he’s ever had, desperate not to ruin the friendship; equally desperate to act on his feelings. She’s played her role of girlfriend so well for the interview, at the Club, and now tonight. She’s attentive, kind, funny, and caring. Is there a chance that the glances they’ve been sharing all night are real? That the hand-holding here at the elevator, when no one else is around, is as electric to her as it is to him?
“Dammit this bloody tie is choking me,” Roy exclaims, pulling his hand from hers to start clawing with both hands at his neck.
“Hey now, let me help,” Keeley soothes, moving his hands out of the way to finish untying the tie and popping open the top two buttons of his shirt. Roy leans his head down toward his chest once the constriction is gone, breathing deeply. Keeley lays her hands on his shirt, to either side of his open collar. She strokes gently across his chest. “There you go, Roy. No worries,” she says fondly.
Roy opens his eyes to squint down at her just as the elevator dings and the door opens. Keeley drops her hands as three others from the gala run up and join them, entering the elevator and pushing the button for 12. Keeley and Roy are no longer holding hands, and he feels the loss. They exit on floor 10 with a quiet goodnight to the group continuing their ride.
They don’t say anything as they head to their room, but halfway down the hall Roy feels Keeley’s hand slip back into his and his heart skips a beat. He looks down at her with a smile, afraid of the hope that’s blooming inside of him. Maybe she isn’t acting. Maybe this is real.
Roy pulls out his keycard and swipes it quickly when they arrive at the room. Once inside he locks both locks and watches as Keeley steps out of her heels as she heads towards the bar. He removes his coat and hangs it over a chair without taking his eyes off Keeley’s sequined figure leaning over to grab glasses and a bottle of scotch.
“Nightcap, yeah?” she asks, already opening the bottle.
“Alright.” Roy figures one drink and then they can each get undressed in the bathroom and settle in far away from each other in the bed. Far, far away.
Keeley has two neat scotches all ready to go. Handing one to Roy, she beats him to the toast, saying, “Good job tonight, Roy! You were a stunner. This is gonna be great press for you.” He holds his glass back. Keeley stops in surprise, but before she can protest, Roy makes his own toast.
“Keeley, thank you. I couldn’t have done it tonight without you. You got me the press to start, and then you pretended to like me on top of it. So...cheers.” Roy clinks their glasses and downs his drink.
Keeley drinks her scotch in one gulp as well, following it with a loud “Ahhh” and a shake of her head. Thunking her empty glass down on the bar, she steps closer to Roy and takes his glass from him. Once it’s safely on the bar as well, she takes one more step, bringing herself face to face with him. Or face to neck, more like.
She tilts her head back and smiles that smile he knows so well.
“I didn’t pretend to like you.”
Roy blinks. And then blinks again. “Yes, you did.” After a pause Keeley refuses to fill, Roy speaks again. “For the last several weeks, actually.”
Keeley raises her arms and loops them around Roy’s neck, resting them on his shoulders with the lightest of touches that causes him to hold his breath. What is happening right now?
Looking him straight in the eye without blinking, Keeley speaks again, softer this time.
“I didn’t. Pretend. To like you, Roy.”
Realization and relief course through Roy at about the same pace as his breath whooshes back into his body.
“Fuckkkk me,” he groans as he wraps his arms around Keeley’s waist and lifts her to meet his lips. All their practice kisses and fake kisses are forever buried by this new first kiss that is already the fucking best kiss he has ever had.
They aren’t even undressed but he can feel their connection from their lips down through the rest of his body, and it’s nearly too much. He wants to devour her—wants to be devoured by her in return. He’s already so hard and she is stuck up against him like a window cling that is never coming off.
With a moan Roy picks up Keeley and turns toward the bedroom, not allowing their lips to separate. Keeley’s skirt is hiked up almost to her waist from the lift, and she seems as invested in keeping their connection as he does, holding on tight and wrapping her legs around him like a vise.
He hastily carries her through the doorway and up to the edge of the bed. Enough time has been wasted already. He sets her down gently and finally releases her lips so he can spin her around and unclasp her necklace. Keeley’s throaty gasp as he runs his fingers along the back of her neck hurries him to put the necklace down on the dresser so he can unzip her dress before they lose any momentum.
Before he can slide the shimmery fabric off her shoulders, Keeley whirls around and grabs his hands, holding them tight as she lunges up for another round of kisses that this time include her nipping her way all along his jawline in a way that makes his knees start to buckle. He’s never been so grateful for strong quadriceps as he steadies himself against her sweet onslaught.
Keeley pulls away and looks up at him, all puffy lips and sparkling eyes. “God Roy, this is even better than I ever hoped, you know?” He just shakes his head with a laugh as she begins unbuttoning his shirt. He helps by toeing off his shoes. And then they are working together quickly and earnestly to get naked : Roy tosses off his shirt and pulls off his trousers while Keeley pulls her dress over her head, leaving both of them in just their underwear.
Keeley’s bra and undies are lacy, charcoal-grey perfection. Roy stops short, gazing at the beauty standing before him. He’s pictured this, sure, but the reality is more than his imagination ever could have created. He reaches out slowly, mesmerized that she’s here, offering herself to be touched. He gently cups her cheek.
Keeley grabs his hand, roughly kisses his palm, and then moves towards him with a raspy growl. She rucks his vest up and pushes his arms until he has no choice but to pull it up and off. “Yes, there he is,” she cries, pulling him close and snuggling her face into his chest, kissing and nipping her way through his curly hair as her nails scratch into his back.
Roy takes the opportunity to unclasp her bra, making Keeley squeak out a delighted “Nice work” as she unwinds herself from his torso long enough to fling it aside. Then they are back together, wrapped around each other and tripping their way to the bed, falling onto it together, gasping for breath as they try to breathe and kiss lips and cheeks and necks and shoulders.
They’re actually just barely on the bed, so Roy pushes Keeley away just a bit, though it pains him. “Let’s both get out of our knickers and meet up at the pillow end of this giant bed, right?”
Keeley takes that as a speed challenge, and removes her lacy pants before Roy even has his briefs down his thighs. When he looks up, Keeley is spread out like the most delicious feast, all creamy skin and shiny hair, with her smile focused completely on him.
He’s seen that smile light up an entire room of players and agents, and he’s seen that smile give comfort to a friend who is hurting. To have it right here, right now, all for himself? He doubts he could be happier. With a sharp laugh he launches himself towards Keeley and the huge pile of pillows.
Roy hasn’t had so much fun having sex in he can’t remember how long, if ever? It’s like the friendship he’s built with Keeley spills over into this time together, and their kissing and stroking and moaning and thrusting are all wrapped up in the care and consideration they have for each other every day.
Every kiss they exchange, every swipe of his tongue on her clit, every swallow of her mouth around his cock, increases their connection until they are clinging and panting and crying out together, so happy and so spent all at once.
After a time Roy finds himself flat on his back with Keeley curled up practically on top of him, her head nestled under his chin and her fingers scraping gently through the hair on his chest.
“I guess we’ll want to, I don’t know, talk about all this at some point?” Roy asks, as he gently uses his fingers to comb through Keeley’s tousled hair—hair that he himself tousled just moments ago.
“Yeah, we definitely can. But Roy, I think we could just go on doing this always? Don’t you?” Keeley’s voice is light and hopeful, and she raises her head to look him in the eye, her hand putting the most gentle pressure over his heart.
Roy swallows and puts a hand over hers. “Yeah. I think so.”
Keeley puts her head back under his chin and goes back to scratching his chest. Damn. He definitely could go on doing this always.