c38 This Night
It's so shameless!
Vardy was genuinely indignant at this moment!
These bastards had already cozied up with their chosen girls, starting to kiss and fondle in public as if the rest of the nightclub didn't exist!
Had they ever once considered how he was feeling?
This sort of betrayal should be condemned without mercy!
But if he were honest with himself, what he really wanted to say was "Could you teach me a few tricks?"
In England's football circles, nightclubs weren't exactly unfamiliar territory. Whether you played for Everton or were just a promising academy graduate like Jamie Vardy still weeks away from turning 18 nightlife was part of the culture. These venues were less about privacy and more about vibe. Most people came here looking for a hookup, not a Guinness. And if someone spotted a stunner? They just approached, confidence oozing, ready to dance or go further if the night allowed...
But shyness? That didn't fly here. Not unless you wanted to be the punchline of someone's story the next day.
Vardy now sat awkwardly in a leather booth, gripping a glass of something far too strong. His wiry frame and baby face made him look like someone who wandered in looking for a pub. Not a Premier League talent in the making. Others glanced over and smirked "If you came to drink, mate, the bar's over there."
Warm yellow lights bathed the lounge in a golden hue. The crowd was a blur of revealing dresses, tight shirts, and pulsing bodies. Vardy watched it all through a slight alcoholic haze, his mind spinning like he'd just been subbed off after a 90th-minute sprint.
"I bet that guy's gay," a tall girl with honey-blonde hair whispered to her friend, giggling. "Otherwise, why would he be sitting there alone, not talking to a single girl?"
Her friend was curvier, with dark lashes and a pout to match. "He looks like he's still in school. How did he even get past the door?"
"Underage? That's adorable. I love inexperienced boys," the tall one purred, eyes narrowing. "Bet he's fun to tease. You want him?"
"I'll pass. Too much trouble. He probably doesn't even know how to kiss."
The tall girl confident, seductive, and used to getting her way flashed a dimpled smile and sauntered off toward Vardy like she was pressing forward on the wing, eyes fixed on goal.
Meanwhile, Vardy completely unaware of the scouting report he'd just received watched her approach in slow motion.
Am I that attractive? he thought, dumbfounded.
The girl's tight pink dress, the confident walk... Could it be she was actually into him?
"Are you alone?" she asked, sliding onto the seat beside him with the ease of someone who'd done this many times. She picked up a nearby drink, raised it lightly in toast.
Vardy's brain short-circuited.
"No I mean—uh, I came with friends!" he stammered.
Idiot! What are you doing? he screamed internally. Being alone would've been the better play!
The blonde's eyebrows twitched slightly but she recovered in a heartbeat, her eyes still playful.
"My name's Linda. Want to dance?"
The question slammed into Vardy like a thumping cross he wasn't prepared for.
He froze. Jamie Vardy, who once nutmegged a fullback twice in a youth match just to show off, was panicking over a dance invitation.
But she was smiling genuinely and something in her tone told him she wasn't going to take no for an answer.
And besides, he was Jamie Vardy. If he could outrun Premier League defenders, he could handle one girl.
He left his glass behind and followed her toward the dance floor, the music thumping like a stadium crowd after a last-minute equalizer.
At first, his movements were awkward, as stiff as his first few matches with the reserve squad. But Linda was a pro at this game. She moved closer, hands wrapping around his neck, her body sliding against his like a winger slipping past a lazy defender. She teased, danced, laughed until Vardy forgot the reserve, forgot the lights, forgot the fact he still wasn't legally supposed to be inside.
And then, for the first time that night, he let go.
The music bounced, and Vardy's heart bounced along with it like the crowd at the King Power after one of his goals against Liverpool. His body was completely relaxed, beating to the rhythm of the music. There was also a beautiful woman beside him who was interacting passionately with him. It felt really great. Vardy felt that he was already addicted to it, like he had just buried one in the top corner from 25 yards out.
Before they knew it, the two of them were hugging each other, their bodies pressed together, unable to separate.
Vardy swears that he didn't take the initiative!
The friction on his lower abdomen made Vardy feel like his little brother was about to riot no different than when he broke through United's high line alone at Old Trafford and felt the rush of a one-on-one with the keeper.
The tent was set up in an instant!
With an embarrassed and humiliating look on his face, Vardy didn't even dare to look up at the blonde beauty.
But there was no way the girl could hide the changes in Vardy's body. Looking at the open umbrella below, the girl smiled hesitantly, and her eyes when she looked at Vardy were full of teasing and unspeakable ambiguity just like defenders glancing nervously as Vardy lurked off their shoulder, waiting to pounce.
"How about we go take a break?" The girl's gaze made Vardy a little overwhelmed, and he said in panic.
Unexpectedly, the girl leaned over and whispered in Vardy's ear: "I'm a little tired and don't want to dance anymore. Want to rest somewhere else?"
The scent of wine in her tongue was as fragrant as an orchid, lightly touching Vardy's ear, which made him feel itchy, and it also made his heart feel itchy similar to the itch he had before every big game; that electric anticipation of something intense about to unfold.
The girl's meaning was obvious. Vardy felt his heart beating rapidly, as if its speed had exceeded the critical point and could explode at any time. It was the same kind of heart-thumping anxiety he felt during his first Premier League start, full of hope, nerves, and adrenaline.
There was no time for him to care about a few animals. Vardy forcefully hugged the girl, left the nightclub and went straight to the hotel like a breakaway sprint, no time to look back.
When they walked into the room, they were already kissing each other passionately. Their clothes were getting less and less, and their breathing was getting heavier.
Well, that's the end. It was a sleepless night, really a sleepless night.
The morning sun shines in through the window, feeling warm on the body. The two who had been tossing and turning until the middle of the night yesterday were unwilling to get up. Vardy looked at the girl in his arms, unable to explain the feeling in his heart.
Anyway, I threw away my first time here.
Vardy was a little confused again about what to do next.
Is this ****, or do the two of them need to go further?
He was impulsive last night, and this girl was not the one he wanted to date, so what should he do next?
The girl woke up, kissed Vardy's face gently, and murmured, "I felt like dying last night!"
After hearing this, Vardy could no longer bear it. He immediately picked up his gun and mounted his horse, and fought back and forth again. He couldn't waste such a good time his stamina rivaling that of when he ran the full 90 minutes pressing defenders like a madman under Ranieri.
The rain stopped and the clouds returned. Vardy felt hungry. If this continued, would he be drained dry?
"Oh my God, I forgot I had class in the morning, I'm done for!" Just as Vardy was savoring the moment, the girl suddenly looked panicked, screamed, and started putting on clothes in a panic, even buttoning her bra incorrectly.
Vardy stared at the girl busying herself. It turned out that the girl was a college student!
After putting on her clothes, the girl turned around and smiled sweetly at Vardy, "Last night was really fun. I hope we will have a chance to meet again in the future!"
After that, she leaned over and kissed Vardy lightly on the mouth, then trotted away, muttering as she ran: "There are group discussions today, it's over, it's over!"
Looking at the pretty back of the blonde girl in a hurry, Vardy was so upset that he was holding the quilt!
What is going on?
Does this mean that I can let go of the burden and, after a night of fun, pretend that nothing ever happened?
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