Kick Out of It (Needing to Score #1)

4. Nora

CHAPTER 4

NORA

D inner with Ronan was great. Better than great. Dinner was…

I can never talk to him again.

Ever.

He’s charming, handsome, sweet with Leo, and the last man I should consider dating. I don’t think what happened tonight was officially a date, but it sure as hell felt like it.

Why does he have to be a damn footballer?

Once Leo is asleep, I check my social media one last time for a quick, two-hour doom scroll, only to find a new message from Ronan.

Ronan

Thanks a million, my little night owl. Dinner was grand.

My heart skips a beat at the small little word— my . I’m not his. It’s always just been a teasing ‘night owl.’ Why is he flirting with me? Is he flirting? I could be reading too much into it.

Why are you thanking me? You refused to let me pay!

Of course I refused. Can’t call it a date if you’re paying.

How was that a date? Leo was with us.

Also, to be clear, it wasn’t a date.

I’ve mentioned to you before, if you’re dating a single mum, you’re also dating their kids.

Ronan shared with me off the record that his father left when he was three. My own father died when I was a teenager. And now Leo’s father isn’t around to see him grow up. Ronan understands the dynamic, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s implying there’s something more between us.

It wasn’t a date. We’re not dating. We had a meal together. That’s all.

You got me there, darlin. Leo and I ate. You had a poor excuse for beer.

You’ve been in America too long. Who orders pale ale?

Precisely. You ate, I did not. It wasn’t a date.

I saved room for dessert. I’ve been craving something off-menu.

As quickly as the message appears, it’s deleted. Did he mean that the way I read it?

‘ Ronan O’Leary is typing ,’ remains at the bottom of the screen for what feels like an hour. The anticipation is driving me mad; I can’t take it another moment.

I don’t know what you’re typing. Are you starting a novel?

Whatever you’re about to say, I stand by it wasn’t a date.

I got a good night kiss. It was a date.

On the cheek! That doesn’t count.

Best kiss I’ve had in ages.

You’re impossible.

Same time tomorrow night?

No. You know I don’t date footballers.

Why is that?

I never told him about Keith, specifically, since they play for the same club. I always described him as a vague goalkeeper I was seeing when I was covering Liverpool. It was hard dating someone playing for another club. He had a gruelling travel schedule with Cork, which led to lonely nights for both of us. Ultimately, the distance was too much for him and he cheated.

I’m reporting on Cork.

Is there anything in your contract that says you can’t?

No. But even if you weren’t a player, I don’t date anymore.

Interesting. Is it because you were waiting for me? I don’t blame you, I’d wait for me, too.

I bark out a laugh, stirring Leo. I stifle it with my hand over my mouth.

Dinner at my place tomorrow?

As friends? I’d love to, but I won’t have time. We’re moving into our new flat and I’m supposed to cover the match tomorrow afternoon.

Will you bring Leo?

To the match? Yes. I was able to get him a ticket.

When you’re working? Will he sit by himself?

I wasn’t able to get him a press pass, so he’s going with my sister.

Your sister is welcome to join us on our second date after the match.

I can’t help my ridiculous smile as I chew on my thumbnail, contemplating my next move. Before I can reply, he sends a link. I click on it and find two tickets in the upper level. They are essentially VIP, including meals and access to a lounge.

You know the matches here are louder than in America. Leo and your sister would probably enjoy it better in the quieter hospitality suite.

Ronan! You know I can’t accept these.

When I’m watching my brother play, I use noise cancelling headphones. I’ll make sure there is a set available in the lounge for him.

You don’t have to come by after the match, but let me do this for him?

I start and stop typing no less than five different replies. Leo has been so excited to experience his first Cork match, but I didn’t think about things like volume. I haven’t shared with Ronan that Leo has SPD, and I’m wondering if there is a chance that he picked up on his sensory differences based on the few interactions he’s had with Leo. Why else is he getting Leo tickets to a quiet suite and headphones?

I’m too old to play games. Friends who flirt occasionally, a player and a reporter, or dating… It doesn’t matter which one, I need to know what he wants. It isn’t only my heart on the line, it’s Leo’s.

What are we doing? What is this?

I like you, Nora.

Don’t want to date a footballer? I’ll respect that and we can remain friends. Just know that the moment you change your mind, I’ll be first in line. Until then, I want to get to know you better when we’re not hiding behind screens? If that’s all right?

I glance over to the other bed where Leo is sleeping soundly. Giving Ronan one chance, one date, wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

What if I start to like him and he realises we are too different?

What if Leo gets attached and his football hero breaks our hearts?

What if I break both of theirs?

There are too many variables.

I’m flattered, truly. I’m sorry I can’t be anything more than your friend right now.

It’s been a long day, I should get to bed.

I know you’re not. You’ll be reading your smutty book.

Probably. What about you?

I need my beauty sleep if I’m going to score the game winning goal. Go easy on me after! I get shy around gorgeous reporters after a big win.

Gorgeous? Damn flirt.

That remains to be seen. No alarm set for an ungodly hour?

You’re here now. Why would I?

My heart stops and stomach twists. All this time, he was setting his alarm for me?

No, it has to be a coincidence.

Ronan sends me his phone number under the guise that I might need it for Leo’s ticket tomorrow. He’s a cheeky bastard, I’ll give him that. I send him mine out of habit, and my breath catches as I read his incoming text.

Sleep well, my little night owl. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

And just like that, I’m no longer sure all I want is to be Ronan O’Leary’s friend.