#I’ve never tried Diet Coke surprisingly and Oh My God what is this

[gadgetsandg1zmos]

Diet coke tastes so weird wtf why dOES IT TASTE LIKE THAT

[claycro]

Self indulgent piece of writing that is kinda terrible but totally fun to write! Pairing: Alicia/Bob (pre-jack) Rating: Mature? Word Count: 5998 On AO3

"Oh my god! Oh. My. God. That's Bad Bob. Bad Bob freaking Zimmermann. In. Our. House! Alicia."

"Mhm," Alicia mumbled back to her vibrating best friend, not particularly caring about a wild Bad Bob as she jotted down ideas for her next English literature project as soon as they fell out of her brain. She'd have much rather been in her own bedroom instead of being in the kitchen of her fellow women's tennis team house, while a party was happening, but she'd been dragged down by Lucy and Alicia had decided to indulge her for once.

"Alicia!" Lucy hissed and Alicia rolled her eyes before lifting her head to glare at her.

"Who the fuck is Bad Bob?" Alicia didn't care, but she had a feeling she'd find out who he was whether she wanted to or not.

Lucy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Alicia rolled her eyes again.

"Do you live underneath a rock?"

Getting more irritated by the second (she did not appreciate being looked at like she'd just admitted to killing someone or some bullshit like that just because she didn't know who someone with a ridiculous nickname was), she raised an eyebrow.

"Well why don't you just tell me instead of gawping at me and wasting both of our time, when you could be over there seducing Bad bloody Bob and I could be carrying on with my work. Which, by the way, is far more important," Alicia snapped. She'd usually feel bad for being so touchy with her sensitive friend, but she didn't want to be at this party, she wanted to be upstairs doing something productive. In peace with absolutely no gossiping at all.

Blushing a little, Lucy's jaw snapped shut, before she recovered seconds later and started gushing, "Bad Bob Zimmermann is one of the best ice hockey players in the world. Currently a forward for Montreal Canadiens, 2nd on the leader board for goals. Single. Fucking gorgeous. And here in our house."

When her voice turned dreamy, on the word Zimmermann, and she'd twisted on the stool to look through into the crowded living room, Alicia took the opportunity to carry on working. She cared about whom Bad Bob was no more after finding out he was "one of the best ice hockey players in the world". She had no interest in ice hockey or any of the players. Her brother followed the LA Kings' scores so had highlights on sometimes when she was home, but she could never watch it for too long. It was too fast paced. Too many bodies being slammed in to boards. Too many fights. She wasn't squeamish with violence by any means, she just thought it ridiculous and irrational in sports, (and in most things really) it was just a game after all.

So, no, she didn't care if someone who she assumed had "dropped his gloves" for something utterly stupid was breathing the same air. Or if he was famous. Or fucking gorgeous. There were plenty of fucking gorgeous men who were not pathetic. Not that she had any interest in any of them at the minute, much to Lucy's disappointment.

Luckily, said Lucy's attention had been stolen, and Alicia managed to get her head down again, scribbling and brainstorming as she fell right back into her work, exactly where she wanted to be.

_/•\_ _/•\__/•\__/•\_

Four pages and one vodka and Diet Coke later, Alicia decided she was done for today. Her wrist was aching and she was tired, and also pretty sure she'd got enough ideas. Plenty she liked too actually, which was a miracle. Checking her watch, she was shocked to discover it was ‪00:17‬, thirty-five whole minutes had passed with only one distraction (a distraction in the form of a drunken boy and his groping hands that she really could have done without).

She downed the last of her drink before reaching back and putting it in the sink, and then stood up. Scooping up her watermelon notebook and matching pencil case, she tried not to pay attention to the drunken couple in the corner who were very obviously not just snogging. As she passed, though, she couldn't help but snap at them: "this is a kitchen. Not a bedroom. Contaminate somewhere where food isn't made, if you don't mind." And then she walked out, huffing a little, ready to get to bed.

However, before she went upstairs, she did have to make sure Lucy was okay. She wasn't exactly a very smart drunk, and as long as one of their friends was around she'd be fine. They usually were but it would give Alicia peace of mind to make sure anyhow.

Work still in her arms, Alicia had walked barely three steps before seeking out her dark haired friend, dancing between one of their teammates, Kathy, who waved when she caught Alicia looking, and one of the Lacrosse players she actually trusted. No Bad Bob then, Alicia snorted a little, wondering what happened there, before turning a little too swiftly, slamming straight into what felt like a brick wall, but was in fact a tall human male in a white t shirt and dark jeans. A very handsome tall human male, Alicia discovered as she looked up.

He had chocolate hair, gelled back, a few strands falling over his forehead, light brown eyes that were a bit droopy and sad, a long straight nose, a strong jaw and a big grin. He was broad too, clearly fit, bulging arms (but not too veiny and extreme like a body builders, not of someone who lifted far too many weights, just someone who was fit) and tanned.

He was... fucking gorgeous. In all honesty, Alicia couldn't really remember the last time, or ever, that she'd got blushy over a boy, but she was pretty close right now. Especially with the way he was both beaming and blushing back.

"I'm sorry," he said in a heavily French (Canadian?) accent (that absolutely did not melt Alicia's insides) as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Alicia honest to god felt her cheeks bloom red: a completely foreign sensation. She was usually immune to men's good looks, instead falling for fictional guys, but this man in front of her really was very beautiful and very awkward and sweet.

"Ah that's alright, my fault, I shouldn't have turned so quickly," she shrugged back, grinning, squeezing her notebook a little tighter as the pink on the guy's cheeks got redder.

"Homework?" He asked after a few seconds of just smiling at each other, raising an eyebrow, both hands now shoved, equally awkwardly, into either pockets, his arms just a little strained and a lot sexy.

"Oh. Yeah," she patted the book, "parties aren't really my thing, I'm just down here because my best friend asked." She rolled her eyes again, but checked behind her to make sure Lucy was still sandwiched safely between Kathy and Blake. She was.

"Same to be honest," He looked sheepish, as if admitting parties weren't his thing was bad.

"You don't go to college here do you? I've never seen you before, and everyone at Samwell knows everyone," Alicia asked, wondering who his friend was and why he'd come to a college party for said friend. He looked surprised at what Alicia said for a brief second but then seemed to relax, his shoulders slumping and his arms not so stiff.

"No I don't," he shook his head and she couldn't help but watch the movement of the stray strand of hair on his forehead. She had an urge to sweep it back but 1). That would probably be weird, and she would definitely not appreciate it if someone she had known (though hardly knowing each other) a minute touched her hair and 2). It probably wouldn't do anything helpful anyway. "We’re visiting Boston this weekend, and my friend's cousin comes here so," he shrugged, his eyes still intently on hers.

"You're not enjoying yourself then?" She asked, secretly hoping he would say no, but for what? What could she do to make his experience at her college fun?

Okay so she had plenty of ideas. But. She would not think about them right now.

"No, haha, not really, bit of a wallflower I guess." He shrugged, once again looking sheepish and oh god how could he be so drop dead gorgeous and so adorable? Alicia could appreciate men's good looks, sure, she found men attractive, liked their bodies, masturbated to heterosexual (and sometimes gay) porn. But she was a stranger to being really attracted to a man, to feeling all blushy and getting butterflies and desperately wanting him to push her up against the nearest wall and feel his hard body against hers, kissing her senseless, fucking her. And well there she was. Feeling just that for this stranger, which she surprisingly wasn't wary of.

"I was just heading up to my room, if you wanted to join me?" She wasn't exactly planning to say that, but now that it was out there she definitely wasn't averse to him joining her. Wasn't averse to him joining her to tell her about himself. Wasn't averse to him joining her to take her clothes off...

She cleared her throat and looked at him. He was looking back at her with a small smile, but not an arrogant I'm going upstairs to fuck you smile, it was relaxed and secret and nice, and relaxed her even more.

"Lead the way," he stepped back, holding an arm out, and she couldn't help but ogle his whole arm a little before she flashed him a smile and passed him. She didn't check behind her to see if he was following as she ducked under the fire tape at the bottom of the wooden stairs, but when she got to her bedroom, he stepped in only a few seconds later. Dropping her things onto the desk that was decorated with Tears for Fears, Soft Cell and Billy Idol pictures, she checked behind her, over her shoulder to see him hovering in the door. She nearly snorted. Though she'd not invited a boy to her room since she was seventeen, a whole four years ago, she couldn't remember any of them being reluctant to fully enter the room.

"You can come in you know," she grinned, pushing her desk chair in before standing straight and leaning against it, "I'm not going to make you do anything, we can sit and talk if you want to." She hoped she sounded as if she meant that they could talk if he wanted, or they could do something else.

What she said and however she said it reassured him and he stepped in and closed the door, before stopping and staring at her. There was a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face, clearly no longer hesitant, which made the butterflies in Alicia's tummy fly a little harder. Watching him, with her own smirk, for now she was pretty confident she knew where this was headed if the way he was looking at her was anything to go by, she reached for the buttons of her own denim jacket and undid them slowly. Underneath she was wearing a plain white crop top and a red pencil skirt that reached the bottom of her thighs, along with white socks and high tops, her long blonde (or golden as it was commonly identified as) fell down her back, in thick but subtle waves.

She didn't hate the reflection mirrors gave her, while she didn't think she was stunning, she could appreciate that she was attractive, pale blue eyes, high cheekbones, and plush lips. Though, with the way he was looking at her, she felt beautiful and sexy and lovely, his eyes were wide and he was biting his bottom lip as he followed her movement, giving her confidence. She dropped the jacket to the floor, before stepping out from her shoes and pulling her socks off, grateful for the newly painted cherry red toenails.

She liked her body. She wasn't thin nor chubby, but curvy, she had meat where she needed it, and if the moan from his mouth was anything to go by, he too appreciated it.

With a further spike of confidence, she pushed her thumbs into the waist band of her skirt, shuffled out of it, and kicked it back to her other discarded clothes so she was left only in white high cut briefs and white crop top. Shuddering, he looked at her, his eyes travelling up and down her body and then back to her own eyes as if he'd get told off for looking more. Stepping forward, she shimmied the tiniest bit, giving him silent permission to look as much as he wanted. He obliged, dropping his gaze again. This time he was the one to take a step forward. And another. And another. Until he was stood only a couple of feet in front of her, his bottom lip still in between his teeth, his cheeks painted red and his pupils dilated.

God he was so beautiful.

Despite him still having all clothes on, she had her own look at his body, her eyes zoning straight in on the very obvious, very big, bulge in his jeans. This time she shuddered. Her mouth watering the tiniest bit and god, he'd still got all his clothes on and she wanted to suck him off. She'd never even found blow jobs appealing, always avoided them in porn, they were messy and pretty undignified, but... this guy looked yummier to eat than a cola lolly. Thank fuck, the bathroom that joined her and Lucy's bedroom had a lifetime supply of in date condoms in.

Hesitantly, he lifted his hands, hovering them around her waist and looking her in the eye. She nodded eagerly and he grinned, dropping them to her waist, and pulling her towards him quickly. It startled her a little but she was quite fine, as she was pressed against his body.

"Dieu, vous êtes - fuck you're beautiful." He mumbled before finally dropping his head to hers, his lips against hers, both the French and the kiss making her groan. He groaned back, his hands on the back of her thighs squeezing. She jumped, and he caught her without stumbling and god if that wasn't hot in itself.

Winding her fingers into his dark hair and tugging, she kissed back with vigour, matching him. She wasn't conscious of the fact they were moving until she was dropped, falling back on to the bed. There wasn't much time to react as seconds later there was a still too dressed French Canadian in between her long, welcoming legs.

As he resumed kissing her, she tugged the hem of his t-shirt out of his jeans, pulling it up to his ribs so he'd get the hint. Kneeling up, he pulled it off himself in the weird way that men do, displaying a defined torso, with a spattering of hair between his pectorals and below his belly button, and a pink slash on his ribs. She couldn't help but groan in appreciation. God he really was a beautiful man.

Grinning, he reached for the button on his jeans, unbuttoning them, unzipping the zip and then pushing the jeans down his big thighs. The bulge looked even bigger in the black briefs and Alicia wanted it. Before she could do anything though, he was lying back down on top of her and kicking his jeans and shoes off the bed and Alicia also wanted that. God she just wanted whatever he could give her in all fucking honesty.

Her arms wound around his shoulders as he pressed his body flush to hers and she wanted so badly not have any clothes on at all, to be able to press her breasts again his skin but she also didn't want him to move away because fuck he was rocking his hips down, his erection pressing against her clit in just the right away. Hard and heavy and she was so wet, he could probably feel the stain.

"Fuuuck," she hissed, lifting her own hips to meet his, her head dropping to expose her neck.

"Merde," he ground out, his French making her shudder before he dropped his lips to her neck, kissing and sucking and licking, his fingers either side of her head, twisted around her hair. God she was so so close already. A few more thrusts against her super swollen clit and she was fucking gone for. She said as much.

"Moi aussi. Merde. Me - too." He moaned into her neck and then, that was it, her body arched and jerked and a fucking storm swept through her body and she cried out, Christ knows how loud. Vaguely she heard him groan as loud as her, his hips stuttering. After what felt like forever and by the time he'd stilled and slumped on her she was back to herself, though barely. She was still shivering, her heart beating a mile a minute, her breath sharp and unsteady and her skin sweaty and hot.

That was the longest, hardest orgasm she'd ever had within the shortest time it had ever taken her to reach climax and fuck she was shook. And pretty sure she'd died and gone to heaven. The only anchor she had was the delicious heavy weight and harsh breathing of one fucking gorgeous male on top of her.

"Mon Dieu," he breathed in to her neck once they'd finally got their breathing back on track and Alicia felt like she finally had control of her limbs that had turned into jelly.

"Hmmmm," she breathed back, not even really having the energy to wonder what any of the French he said meant.

He rolled over on to the bed next to her, not that there was much room for a broad 6"2 male, looking completely dishevelled and as shaken as she was and god it suited him. Half open, his eyes met hers and he grinned, a big cheeky grin.

"I'm Robert, by the way." He lifted his left arm shakily.

Alicia giggled, she giggled!, and put her right hand in his, squeezing as tight as she could, which was to say, not tight at all, "Alicia." She mumbled, before closing her eyes, falling asleep before she knew it.

_/•\_ _/•\__/•\__/•\_

Alicia woke up a couple of hours later to a pressure on her a forehead, a whisper in her ear and a hand brushing thorough her hair, feeling like she'd been resurrected, her whole body felt lighter, she felt content and satisfied. And still too exhausted to open her eyes as she vaguely felt the bed dip and get lighter before she fell straight back to sleep again.

_/•\_ _/•\__/•\__/•\_

Another seven hours later, ‪at 10:32 Sunday morning‬, Alicia woke up again, this time energised, though her limbs still felt just a teeny bit wobbly, and even without touching, her clit felt tender, like it had been ground on by a pretty hard dick only hours before. It felt good. And her body honestly felt way too pleasantly buzzed for her to feel too disappointed by the absence of a human in her bed. Though she'd feel it later, she wanted to replay last night over and over again and think about Robert and how beautiful he was and how good he made her orgasm and... God yeah okay she was feeling the disappointment now. Fuck. She was never going to see him again. The only man she'd ever been fully attracted to and he was gone, didn't know his surname, where he lived, who the cousin who went to her college was.

God he left while she was sleeping. That wasn't good right? Fuck, she couldn't get hung up on a pretty much anonymous guy who left while she was sleeping could she. That was worse than being hung up on a fictional character. At least then she knew she couldn't have them right from the beginning.

Truthfully she was pretty sure she'd grown an attachment to Robert as soon as she'd heard his French Canadian accent and saw his awkward blushing smile and -

"Fuck!" She shouted into her pillow.

She spent only 15 minutes with her face in the pillow, grumbling inwardly at herself before she rolled out of bed, storming into the shower to wash Robert off her body.

She hoped.

_/•\_ _/•\__/•\__/•\_

Luckily, or not so luckily, the passing month went by incredibly fast, she didn't even have the time to sit and moon over Robert. Not to say he didn't appear behind her eyes every goddamn time she closed them, or that more often than not she woke herself up with a shuddering orgasm (apparently she'd even called his name a few times but Lucy had thankfully just assumed it was one of her fictional characters). In her waking hours, however, her thoughts were clouded with studying and tennis and the future and a career which was getting more and more likely to be modelling or acting, following in her mother's steps. She'd already gotten plenty of modelling agencies get in contact with her that she'd neither rejected nor accepted yet (she’d probably say yes because she couldn’t imagine herself doing anything else in all honestly). Besides, it had been her child hood dream; she wanted to give it a go for sure – as much as she loved English Literature, she couldn’t see herself doing anything with it in the immediate future; it was definitely more of a hobby. Albeit a hobby she was going to get a very good grade in, for that she was confident.

Although, today, she was giving herself a rare day off from studying and stressing in favour of spending it in bed. Alicia was letting herself have a well needed guilt free and study free Sunday: no revising, no tantrums and no training, her record player playing Tears for Fears and a book in her hand - one that was most definitely not required for her exams. Like her father and unlike her mother, Alicia could stay in bed the whole day without getting bored. It was a habit she’d gotten into when she went through her chubby phase, (or was the cause for) and she hadn’t got out of it. Having an incredibly active mother and brother, Alicia and her father were moaned at constantly for how lazy they had the potential to be, not that they were ever allowed when they were all home, but they definitely did have the potential.

Alicia would happily spend the whole day in bed today, that’s for sure, but she had a feeling at some point in the next few hours Nell and Lucy would be up to drag her (kicking and screaming) to Annie’s for a coffee. Currently, though, she was going to take advantage of the fact she was curled in her own cocoon, one hand holding her book out to read, Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal singing close to her ear, and her fairy lights on. It was her happy place; she could almost imagine Robert curled around her. Nope, she inwardly scolded herself, you’re not going there. Not today. She threw herself into the words on the pages and adamantly did not think of Robert and his chocolate hair, the stray strands flopping over his forehead, his big twinkling eyes, his cheeky grin, strong jaw, broad shoulders, abs, small waist, chunky thighs…

Her thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the sound of some quick and heavy footsteps, coming towards her door, startling Alicia when there was a hard brief knock on the wood. She didn’t even have time to reply before it’s pushed open. Stood in the entrance, wide eyed and breathing hard was Lucy. Terrified that something bad had happened, someone had been stabbed or the house was on fire, Alicia sat up, dropping her book and quilt.

“What? Lucy! What?” She asked frantically, her mind running through all the disasters that could have happened downstairs. Surely if someone had been murdered in the house she'd have heard it, her music wasn't that loud, unless the police had come to break the news, she wouldn't have heard someone knock on the door. Alternatively, if the house was on fire she'd be able to smell the burning wouldn't she, it wasn't a massive house, and it wouldn't take that long for the smoke to travel.

“Why is Bad Bob Zimmermann at our door asking for you?” Lucy finally asked, her eyebrows high enough to hide under her full fringe, after taking way too long to get her breath back.

Alicia was relieved for all of five seconds before Lucy's words replayed in her head, "Sorry?” Alicia froze, not understanding what the hell her best friend had just said.

“Why is Bad Bob Zimmermann at our door asking for you?” Lucy repeated slower this time, but more desperate for an answer.

Staring at her best friend dumbly, Alicia tried to wrack her brain as to why the supposed best hockey player would be asking for herself. She didn’t even know what he looked like; all she knew was that he’d been at the same party as her last month. Had she done something wrong? Was Robert Bad Bob’s friend? Did she offend him, was Bad Bob coming to defend Robert? Alicia, while known for having a great talent for passive aggressiveness (and viciousness if need be) wasn’t sure she wanted to be confronted by some big hockey player, much less someone with the word Bad in their nick name.

Lucy stared at her for a few seconds, Alicia staring straight back, until something seemed to click in her head and she screamed, making Alicia jump again.

“What the fuck Lucy?” She scowled.

“You slept with him didn’t you?” Her voice was quiet and breathy and very nearly hysteric and… what?

“No?” Alicia’s brows furrowed hard. Where did she get that from? Did Alicia look like someone who had just found out their last one night stand had come to find them?

“Yes you did, holy shit you did. You slept with Bad Bo-Robert Zimmermann, Alicia. You slept with the best and sexiest hockey player in the world and you didn’t even fucking know and now he’s in our house asking for you because he’s so obviously fallen in love with you.” Lucy sounded as dumbfounded as Alicia felt as her brain started to catch up.

Before Alicia had the chance to truly rationalise anything, Lucy pounced, grabbing Alicia's hand and tugged her up.

"Lucy!" Alicia protested, trying to pull away, because despite the fact that she wasn't really sure what to think or what was happening, she did not want to go downstairs in some loose grey joggers and an extra large LA Kings sweater that her brother had bought her (she wore it less for the support of the team and more for the fact it was the comfiest thing she owned).

"You can't keep Bad Bob waiting!" Lucy grinned, seemingly not as scandalised as a minute ago, squeezing unnecessarily hard on Alicia's squirming hand, pulling her down the hallway towards the stairs, which lead to the doorway and god where had she left him. Who else knew he was here? They were probably all fawning over him while he was ... while he was waiting for Alicia! She felt a little queasy.

"Yes I can," she huffed, "this is my house, he's an unexpected guest!" She tried to pull her hand free from Lucy's, to at least give herself chance to compose herself and try to figure out what she was going to say and why the guy who left her while she was sleeping after a quickie was here to find her, famous hockey player or not.

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs Alicia's queasiness had not abated, had in fact grown but she hadn't the time to pep talk herself because she was shoved, literally, into the kitchen. Gulping, Alicia, a little dizzy, looked up, and although three of her teammates were sat at the tatty white table, her eyes met with some big browns (equally as startled as hers) and all of the two words she had scripted for herself had disappeared. And honestly it was pathetic on all sorts of level, how she got all gooey and flushed and shaky for some guy who she'd slept with once (did dry humping count as sleeping with someone?), who she hadn't even know was famous until about sixty seconds ago.

"Alicia! Hi!" Robert, Bad Bob? Bob?, jumped up, a flaming red blush suddenly painted on his cheeks, in the process he knocked over the glass of water next to him.

"Uh, hi," she stammered (surprisingly, the exact words that she'd planned on before she'd been pushed into the kitchen). Other than that she didn't really know what she could say that would sound relatively cool and collected, though that had been thrown out the window because, well, she hardly fucking looked cool and collected did she? (She was positive, though, that the teammates who were currently whispering and sidling past them had never not seen her look calm and collected). "Bad Bob?" She breathed as the room emptied.

"Yeah," like when she'd first met him (which was the last time until today) he rubbed at the back of his neck while he slowly walked around the corner of the table, "you didn't know who I was at first and still seemed to be attracted to me, and, well, I didn't get the chance to tell you after." He shrugged.

A little more grounded after a slight reminder of why she hadn't seen him again, she raised an eyebrow, "of course you didn't have the chance to tell me, you left while I was sleeping." She still sounded a little shaky, her cheeks still hot, but she didn't sound so choked and speechless.

He looked up, apparently having moved his eyes to the floor while she spoke, and he looked a little startled, "I had to, my teammate came for me, I tried to wake you, but crisse you're a deep sleeper. I left my home number on your bed side table." He stared at her expectantly; she was not sure what he was expecting. Also this was definitely news to Alicia, though she could vaguely remember waking up very slightly, there were absolutely no pieces of paper nearby when she had. Unless, because she did have a bit of a habit for leaving revision notes everywhere, she’d scooped it up without checking it and put it with her work. Fuck

"I didn't see it. But," She raised an eyebrow again, "what if I had, I could have intentionally been ignoring you, why did you come to find me?" Inwardly, she was melting just a little, because she hadn't been ignoring him and he had come to find her when she hadn't got in touch.

Robert blushed again looking away, looking uncertain, and Alicia was back to herself enough to feel a tiny bit pleased and endeared by the embarrassment on his face. When she had first heard the name Bad Bob in the same sentence as hockey player she had assumed he was an arrogant arsehole, but she couldn't have been more wrong could she?

"Oh, uh, well, I just wanted to make sure, you know, that you were ignoring me, so I could forget about you in peace," Alicia was steadily getting more charmed by the hand that was still rubbing his neck, and his cheeks that were somehow getting hotter and that this big, handsome man so was utterly awkward.

Grinning, she took a step toward, "even if I'd have seen it, I wouldn't have ignored it, I promise."

He looked up, eyes wide as if he was surprised that she'd want to get back in contact. Then he saw that she'd stepped closer and he looked even more surprised, and god Alicia's heart was beating so hard.

"'No?" He asked, still a tiny bit hesitant. Shaking her head, she took another step forward.

"Nope," she whispered when she was only a couple of feet in front of him and she had to look up to address him.

There was a few brief seconds of reluctance before the biggest smile broke on Robert's face.

God, he was so fucking beautiful, she thought to herself before finally reaching up and leaning to kiss his cheek. He turned his head though and got her lips and she sighed happily before winding her arms around his neck and leaning in more, with more certainty.

She was incredibly pleased when Robert's arms wound around her waist and he pulled her tight to his hard body, perfectly accompanied by the softest personality (of what she'd witnessed anyway, considering there must be a reason he had he was called Bad Bob. Admittedly she was quite looking forward to finding out and, well, for finding everything out about him ... if that’s what he wanted.)

Pulling away from him a little, her hands still around his neck, she asked, “This isn’t just for another one night stand is it, because I’m not one for having friends with benefits.” Really, she wasn’t one for having anything at all intimate with a male, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.

When she’d pulled away his brows had furrowed and his grip on her waist had loosened a little but as he took in her question his sunshine smile had come back and he’d tugged her closer again, “no definitely not,” he was the one to pull away next, but didn’t let her go so she didn’t worry. “I can take you on a date, right? I’m playing Falconers tomorrow so I’ll be close by for the night.”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes but beamed hard, her heart fluttering, butterflies flying around her stomach, her legs a little jelly like, “of course you can take me on a date.” She didn’t add that he was also very welcome to be as close as he wanted for the night.

His smile turned a little cheeky then as he said, “We’re going to have to swap that jumper you have on though, eh?”

“Persuade me.” She tilted her head innocently and he blushed more.

“I’d start by taking it off completely, but we have to go on our first date.” He shrugged, looking just as innocent as herself. Patting his cheek, she pulled away, unwinding her arms from his neck and stepping back, he look disappointed for a second before she reached and squeezed his hand.

“I can wait until then,” she said and he looked so happy Alicia’s heart tightened a little, and god she’d probably spent less than two hours with him in total and she was a bloody mess: they didn’t know barely anything about each other, lived in different countries, not just states! She’d be embarrassed if Robert didn’t look as affected as she did.

He shrugged, “well I can try, anyway.”

She was so incredibly attracted to him and she found him adorably charming with his awkwardness and she was so excited to get to know him, she just couldn’t help but hope that he was as lovely as she thought he was now. She hoped he wasn’t really bad Bob that was for sure. Good Bob. Romantic and awkward and cheesy Bob that she was pretty sure he had been channelling since she met him. She didn’t want to get her hopes up anyhow. She didn’t know him yet.

“Okay, Robert, I’ll see you at six,” then she blew him a kiss and went back to bed, grinning all the way.