Out of the corner of Eden’s eye, she saw Francis making out with the blonde. Jealousy rolled through her like low thunder.

“Yeah, I want to hook up in the closet in the hallway—”

“The one with all the old coats?”

“—exactly. And I want to enjoy it, then come back out and keep drinking with you guys. A bit of fun and zero expectations.”

Cheryl smiled. “I’d offer to help you out, but that was a failure and a half.”

“What?” Kieran asked.

“Me and Eden tried to have sex once. We liked kissing so much we thought we’d try it, but when I went for her underwear, this bitch cracked up laughing.”

Eden pressed a hand to her mouth. “It still makes me laugh. Sorry, Bernie.”

“That’s okay, George.”

Kieran stared at them in disbelief. “Tell any straight guy that story and they’ll do whatever you two want.”

“Nah, it’s me and Bernie’s secret.” Eden squeezed her friend’s waist. “Anyway, that all went down before Cheryl started exclusively fucking other people’s dads.”

Cheryl examined her burgundy nails. “What can I say? I like dads. I like how defeated they are. I like how they all know how to make mash.”

Eden made a face. “’Cause who doesn’t want to wank off some old guy, then eat mash?”

Cheryl shook her head. “Aren’t we supposed to be finding you a guy that’ll fill Francis with irrational jealousy?”

“By all means, Bernie.”

Cheryl recommitted to the cause, scanning the room with her bright brown eyes. “Idiots… fuckboys… idiots. Hey, I know that guy. Shit! That’s Derek Hardiman.”

Eden turned and sure enough, she recognised the tattoos and heavy scowl of one of Australia’s most famous footballers. “Fucking hell.”

Cheryl moaned. “He’s so sexy.”

Eden would be more impressed if he wasn’t doing the whole broody asshole thing. You could tell he took himself way too seriously. “He’s not even a dad, Bernie.”

“And he’s engaged.” Kieran held up their phone. “His fiancée looks like Liv Tyler.”

Cheryl peered at the screen. “Jesus. Is she here? Maybe she likes girls, and we can go three up?”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Kieran sucked in a breath. “Get a load of his mate.”

Eden followed their gaze to the back of a broad redhead. In his blue jeans and t-shirt, he looked like he should be standing in front of a barbecue, cooking utensil in hand.

“Thoughts?” Kieran pressed.

“Eh?”

“Those arms! That ass!”

She had to admit it was a good ass. An all-around good body. He was tall and his muscular back was a perfect V. She bet he had a chest a girl could curl up on like a kitten. “Is he a footballer?”

Cheryl’s gaze was still on Derek Hardiman. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“Surely. Men aren’t usually that jack—”