Ok, another slight bit of smut at the beginning of this chappy. If you don't like it, skip the first paragraph, you won't miss much heehee. Anyway that'll probably be the last bit of smut I write for a while phew, so you can all breathe a sigh of relief I won't be subjecting you to anymore. The next couple of chapters are going to be a bit short, just so you know. Oh and I've raised the rating on this because I know there will be some bad language, other than my own, in future chapters. I figured it best to mention that now, while I remember. That said, read on and enjoy you wonderful people!

Chapter twenty six.

Ayla shifted in her sleep, visions of the previous night flashing through her mind. Oliver's face hovering over hers, his eyes closed. His hands, strong and firm on her face, arms, hips. His breath whispering across her neck. His voice cracking, calling her name. She could feel it all again. The way her heart had races, her own breath coming in short, sharp, gasps.

But this was just a dream, not the real thing. Oliver wasn't there. He had left in the early morning light. He needed to clear his head, and the only way he could do that was to hop onto his broom and let the rushing wind whip the thoughts from his head.

Had he meant to kiss her? Did it really matter now? Whether he'd meant it or not, he had kissed her. He had wanted to, was that the same? And she had wanted to, else why would she have kissed him on the balcony? He shot into the air, the thrill of speed rushing through him. He had meant to kiss her. He had taken her out on to the balcony. But had he meant to take it so far? He wanted, he wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. He had wanted to just be friends with her. But last night had changed everything now. Could they really be just friends after that?

He raced around the stadium, desperate to rid himself of such questions. The sun was shining and the sky was clearing, it would soon be a perfect day for flying. He doubted he could stay out there all day however. He loved the freedom his broom gave him. He could go where-ever he wanted, whenever he wanted. No-one could tell him what to do, or where to go while he was up in the clouds. There was just him.

His team-mates often called him anti-social, and told him he was living the life of a hermit. But that was how he liked life. He had been an only child. For him being alone was comfortable. There had been women in his life before. None of them had lasted. None of them had understood. He worked better alone. He needed his space to design new moves for work. He was Captain, a lot of people relied on him. Not just the other guys on the team or the big bosses, but the fans. He couldn't let them down just because the girl he was with wanted to spend time together. Would Ayla understand all this? Damn than was another question.

He paused in his circling; a figure below was waving at him. He began to descend. It was Rob Jenkins, his star Chaser. This could be good. Rob had plenty of experience with women. If ever there was a time to ask for advice, something Oliver rarely did, it was now.

"Hey mate, it's good to see you." Rob called as Oliver touched down. "You getting some practice in? I head the good news. Congrats man. National tea his big stuff."

"Thanks man. I'm glad you've dropped by, I need your advice on something."

"Mine? I don't see how, you seem to be doing alright by yourself."

"Well it's not about Quidditch. It's about a girl." Oliver said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Ah my real area of expertise. So what is it? You wana ask some lucky witch out? Or get shot of one?"

Oliver grimaced. "Can you ever just be friends with a girl? I mean even if there's something there? And you know you like her and that she likes you."

"Eh who's the lucky lady? Was it that blonde from the bar? The one with the killer smile?"

"No you don't know her."

"So what's happened the? I mean, why's this such a big deal?"

"We slept together."

"You old dog! I knew you had in in you Cap'!" Rob chuckled, slapping Oliver on the back.

"That's beside the point. Can you ever just be friends with a girl? I mean even after.."

Rob shook his head. "Honest answer mate. Nope. Well not in my vast experience anyway. You want my advice Ol', if you know you can't just be friends, but that's all you want, you should just get shot of her. It's not worth the aggravation."

"Thanks mate. I'll keep that in mind. Look I'm knackered-"

"I'll bet!"

"So I'm just gonna head back home, I'll see you round."

Oliver left Rob chuckling to himself and headed home. He needed to get home, have a shower, get some sleep and some how sort his head out. That would no doubt involve talking to Ayla at some point. This was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to one bit. He'd have to do it though. If only for the peace of mind it would bring. There was no way he could play for his country with his mind else where. Still, he knew it would be no walk across the Quidditch pitch.

He stowed his gear in his locker and apparated home. It was still early and with any luck Ayla would still be sleeping. He shouted out to her as he arrived, and hearing no reply bounded upstairs to his room. It was empty, she'd already gone. He caught sight of a crumpled piece of parchment on the floor. It was the note he had written to explain where he was. He picked it up an flattened it out, reading what he had hastily written in his desperation to clear his mind.

"Gone to clear my head. There's food in the fridge and plenty of floo powder if you don't feel like apparating."

He probably would have gotten the same effect if he had written 'Get the hell out of my bed!'. She was bound to have taken it the wrong way. All he had meant was that he didn't know when he'd be back. Damn it, why hadn't he thought of something better to write? He re-crumpled the note again and threw it across the room. This was not going to make things any easier.

As it was, Ayla had simply gone to work. She had thought nothing of Oliver's note, now being used to the awkward way in which he used words. Besides being hung over was hardly an excuse to not turn up at the shop.

Today, however, was slowly becoming the longest day of her life. It was barely noon and the constant thump, thump, thump of her head made her feel like she was being punished for something. It wasn't helpful that her headache was making her jumpy also. She had a guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach and she wasn't sure why.

"Excuse me Miss. Do you have this stick in a bigger size?"

"Pardon?"

"This broom. In a longer length?"

"Uh, no. they're all regulation length."

Why was everything making her think of Oliver? Besides the fact that she was in a shop dedicated to, well his life. She really needed to talk to him. She'd enjoyed last night. Obviously. But something just didn't feel quite right. They definitely needed to talk. And soon.