The Fly-Half (Lincoln Knights #2)

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jonny

“I’m going to assume that things went well since we haven’t seen you since Saturday night,” Mason said as he sat down next to me on Monday morning, his loaded breakfast tray clattering on the table. “You’re alive at least, so that’s one thing.”

“Good morning to you too,” I said dryly, shooting a smile at Devon, who was sat opposite me sipping his coffee. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Oh good, you’re alive then,” West said as he dropped into the seat next to Devon, our table of two suddenly doubling in size. “See, Mason, I told you he’d be fine.”

“Yeah, but it would’ve been nice of him to let us know,” Mason said pointedly. “Just so we didn’t worry.”

“Just so you didn’t worry,” West said. “Anyway, I don’t know why you were worried. You knew where he was.” He grinned at Devon and me. “I’m guessing you two figured things out then?”

“Figured what out?” Devon asked over the rim of his cup, shooting me a playful wink.

“Don’t give me that shit,” West said with a laugh, pointing at Devon with his fork. “Not when you’ve got at least two hickeys on your neck.”

Devon flushed and pulled his hoodie up slightly. “All right, no need to shout about it.”

“Where?” Mason asked, leaning across the table and twisting his head. “Oh shit, yeah. You know if you need some concealer, you should talk to Ryan or Rory. They’ll hook you up.”

“It’ll be fine,” Devon said. “It’s, er… yeah, it’s fine. Thanks, though.” He glanced at me, a little smirk playing across his lips, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no way concealer was going to cover up some of the marks on his thighs.

Not that we planned on Mason and West seeing some of them.

“That means there’s definitely more of them,” Mason said with a snort as he dug into a bowl of fruit salad smothered in yoghurt and granola. “You definitely had fun then.” He shot me a pointed look. “Maybe you’ll be in a better mood today.”

“Maybe.” I grinned and nudged him with my elbow. “Maybe you should stop being so nosy. Maybe it’s pissing me off.”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely in a better mood,” West said. “Look at you smiling again.” He cut a piece of omelette and stabbed it. “Thank you, Devon. From all of us.”

“Your sacrifice is noted,” Mason said with a wink.

“Oh, trust me, the pleasure was all mine,” Devon said, hooking his foot around mine under the table.

“I don’t doubt it,” West said. “And now we don’t have to put up with Mr Jealous Grumpy Pants over there.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” West said, shooting me an unimpressed look. “We’ve had this conversation, and you admitted at least part of that.”

“Fine, yes, I was jealous, but now I’ve got what I wanted,” I said. “So yeah, I guess you’re right. No more Jealous Grumpy Pants.”

I assumed that now Devon was mine, my feelings of jealousy would fade away. After all, we were together now and I trusted Devon, so it wasn’t like anything was going to happen with Peaches or anyone else. It would just be the two of us, and I’d get to spend all my spare time exploring everything I wanted to do with him.

Or to him.

“Good,” Mason said with a nod. “And Devon, if he gets too grumpy or annoying, send him back to us and we’ll put him in line.”

“I’ll remember that.” Devon chuckled as he went back to eating the stack of protein pancakes he’d picked up this morning. I noticed it was the second time he’d gone for pancakes in two days, and I made a mental note to find a good recipe for them. They were the thicker American-style ones, but I also knew that he liked thinner crepe-style ones too, so I’d have to practice making those as well. My last few Pancake Day attempts had ended with most of them ragged, torn, and either a bit crispy around the edge or too squidgy in the middle.

They’d still tasted good, though, but Devon deserved better than shitty pancakes.

We finished our breakfast and sat chatting for a bit before we trooped upstairs for our Monday morning briefing, which would go over the match on Saturday, goals for the week, training plans and specific things we’d be working on, as well as looking forward to our next match, which would be away on Saturday down in Coventry.

Devon and I sat next to each other at the end of the table, the same as we always did. We’d decided we’d be open about the change of our relationship if anyone asked, but we weren’t going to rub it in people’s faces. At the end of the day, this was our job and our place of work, and we didn’t want to be those people. We were pretty sure our relationship wasn’t against any rules, but then again I wasn’t sure there was anything in the player regulations about teammates shagging each other. Mostly because I wasn’t sure the people who’d written them had ever thought it would be an issue.

I’d been a little worried that Clive would bring up my bad behaviour from Saturday in front of everyone, but even though I wouldn’t have liked it, I would’ve deserved it. But all he did was talk about not letting our emotions get the better of us and remembering to keep things clean. I could feel my face heating as he spoke, especially when his pointed gaze kept lingering on me, and fuck, I’d almost have preferred getting yelled at.

He'd probably do that later.

Or at least call me into his office to explain myself while he stared at me. As a player, Clive had had a reputation for starting shit, which meant as a coach, he was good at knowing why things got under our skins as players. One thing he’d always focused on was not letting dickheads get to us, but the only problem was the one who’d started shit in this situation was me to myself.

Afterwards, we all headed for the changing room to start stripping off layers for our morning gym session, swapping the hoodies and joggers we’d arrived in for our kit.

“Jesus Christ, Jonny, did you maul him?” Mason asked as Devon pulled his joggers off to reveal his perfect-as-fuck thighs. The ones that had more than a few marks sucked into them, which were apparently really bleeding obvious under the bright lights of the changing room.

“Oh Jesus, Jonny, keep it in your pants,” West said with a chuckle.

“Why the hell are you two staring?” I asked as Devon grabbed his shorts, my eyes still fixating on his inner thighs as I remembered how good they’d felt pressed against the side of my head. I really needed to bury myself between them again soon.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Devon asked with a grin and a wink. “They can look. After all, nobody else has thighs like these.”

“Yeah, nobody else has been mauled! Seriously, do you need me to buy him a muzzle? ’Cos we can do that,” Mason said. “Bloody werewolf boyfriends.”

“I’d say it’s more borderline chupacabra,” West said. “With all the sucking.”

“Or vampire,” Mason said with a sanguine nod.

“Will you two pack it in,” I said, chucking my hoodie at Mason’s head and glancing around to see who else was listening. “We’re trying not to make it obvious.”

West snorted. “Should’ve thought of that before you marked your boyfriend up like that.” He gestured at Devon, who’d sat on the bench to pull his trainers on. Even with his shorts on, I could still see a few of the marks.

Okay, maybe I had gotten a little carried away last night when we’d been sitting on the sofa and I’d found myself back between Devon’s thighs. But I’d had a good reason—the man was fucking gorgeous and I’d wanted to play with him. And Devon hadn’t objected at all.

“Nobody will notice,” Devon said. “It’s only because you two are so heavily invested in our lives.”

“That’s the polite way of saying you two are nosy as fuck,” I said. “Seriously, don’t you have your own partners to stare at?”

“True, but neither of them are here,” Mason said as he threw my hoodie back to me and pulled off his own. “Also, neither of them have made our lives miserable over the last few weeks with their inability to process their own emotions.”

“Again with that! How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

“I dunno,” Mason said with a grin. “How many times have you actually said it?”

“Any reason you four are all stood here gassing instead of getting your arses in gear?” Matty asked, strolling over and interrupting our conversation. “Fucking hell, Devon, what happened to you? That’s not from Saturday, is it?”

“Nah, he’s got a new boyfriend,” Mason said as his grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and I knew I was about to get back all the shit I’d put him through recently. “He’s a bit possessive.”

“I’d say. Do you need some arnica?” Matty asked. “I think I’ve got some in my bag.”

“I’m fine,” Devon said, rolling his eyes as he stood. Like me, he seemed to be getting a bit sick of this conversation but maybe we’d brought this on ourselves. We should’ve known everyone would want to gossip. I was just grateful Danny didn’t know yet. Otherwise we’d be fucked. “Seriously, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Are you sure? They’re not painful, are they?”

Devon snorted. “Matty, I’m worried about the quality of your sex life if you’re asking me if hickeys are painful.”

“What sex life?” Matty shot back. “I’m a single dad with a two-year-old. I don’t have a sex life.”

“There you go, Mason,” I said. “Something new for you to focus on—get Matty laid.”

“No, thank you. I don’t need any of your help.”

“Probably for the best,” I said.

“Sod off,” Mason said, throwing his joggers at me. “I helped you, didn’t I? I think I should get a thank you, not this.”

“Oh shit,” Matty said and the four of us froze as he looked between Devon and me. Mason, at least, had the good grace to look sheepish. “Are you two…”

“Yeah,” Devon said, a smile playing across his lips. It was soft and shy, and it made me want to lean over and steal a kiss. How had I been so oblivious to my feelings for this long? And how long had Devon been waiting for me to get my act together? “We are.”

“Congrats, man,” Matty said. “Took you long enough.”

“Thank you!” Mason said, throwing his arms in the air. “Finally, vindication!”

“Seriously?” I asked, looking between the pair of them. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, I thought it was obvious,” Matty said with a shrug. “I never said anything, though, because I figured it was none of my business.”

“What was none of your business?” Charlie asked, popping up beside Matty with Danny in tow. Great, that was all we fucking needed, the Knights two biggest gossips getting involved. “Shit the bed, Devon. What happened to you?”

“That’s not from the weekend, is it?” Danny asked as he leant over his best friend’s shoulder.

“Can’t be,” Charlie said, pointing at Devon’s thighs. “The placement is wrong for a tackle. You get laid then?”

“And if I did?” Devon asked with an exasperated smile. “Why does it matter? Does the whole club need to know about my sex life?”

“Well no, but still,” Charlie said. “We’re just looking out for you.”

“You’re just being nosy,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “What’re you two doing anyway?”

“Come to get you lot,” Danny said. “Also, did you know we’re apparently getting a new social media manager? Do you think they’ll be hot?”

“They’re here to do their job, Daniel,” Mason said with a pointed look. As much shit as Mason had given me, he’d always been the one to call people out on their bullshit when they went too far, and I had to respect that because it wasn’t easy to do to your teammates. “Not to be drooled over by you. Pack it in or I’ll shave that fucking ridiculous porn-stache off next time you fall asleep on the bus.”

“Fuck off!” Danny cried, putting his hand over his lip like he was trying to shield his terrible moustache from harm. “I was only asking.”

“Yeah, and I was telling.” Mason pointed at the door. “Get moving, come on.”

Everyone began to walk away, Danny still holding his hand over his mouth while trying to convince West to keep Mason in line. I didn’t think he’d win that argument.

“That means you too,” I said with a chuckle, gesturing at Mason’s bare torso where he still hadn’t pulled a shirt on. “Put your tits away.”

“But you like my tits,” he said, winking at me as he grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head, the static making his hair stand on end like he’d tried to gel it and failed.

“No, that’s Ryan. Don’t mistake me for your boyfriend.”

Mason looked down at his chest and then fixed me with a doe-eyed expression. “They look good, though, right? I’ve put a lot of work into my chest this season. And my shoulders.”

I rolled my eyes fondly. “Yes, they look great. Very big and firm. And I know Ryan loves them too.”

“Thank you! And I… wait… ah fuck…” His face went bright red as he looked at me.

I clapped him on the shoulder and smiled serenely. “Yeah, sweetheart. Remember, I know everything.”

“Son of a bitch.”