Chapter 18 #2
We’re pushing through the door of the Sin & Tonic for MacKenzie’s Mid-Season Mixer after the Six Nations kick-off viewing party.
A wall of noise hits first: boozy chatter, the tinny echo of a sports highlights reel from the TV on the wall, and glasses clinking against wooden tables.
MacKenzie Sporting banners hang from every available surface, blue and white with their mountain logo gleaming under the pub lights.
The match finished twenty minutes ago – Scotland squeaked a win – and now the business begins.
I guide Theo through the throng with a hand where her back curves in. Her spine straightens under my touch. Not pulling away, but aware we’re being watched.
‘There they are.’ Charlie waves from a booth, Brodie beside her. Still a brooding dick, but a lot less so with her around. He’ll never be a ray of sunshine, but he’s become a real mate.
Across the room, Scottie merely lifts his chin in acknowledgement.
He’s wedged into a corner with Connor, who’s mid-story, arms flying.
But Scottie’s gaze is fixed on the other side of the bar, where Ava is standing with her boyfriend Nevin.
He has a possessive arm clamped around her waist while she stares at her shoes.
Scottie’s glaring at Nevin as if he’s imagining him six feet under.
We reach the booth. Brodie grunts a hello, and Charlie’s eyes flick between me and Theo, her smile curling as if she’s five steps ahead.
‘Glad you could make it. MacKenzie wants a word. Let’s keep the golden couple on show.’
The MacKenzie CEO – Gordon something, grey suit, shiny watch – catches my eye from the bar and lifts his drink. I nod back, feeling Theo move beside me.
‘We’re being watched.’ She elbows me discreetly. ‘Behave.’
‘Never.’ I catch her wrist before she moves away. ‘Kiss for luck?’
Her eyes widen fractionally. She rises on tiptoe and presses her lips to mine, quick but firm. A kiss designed for the public, yet real enough to leave a mark. I feel eyes on us, curious and calculating. But mostly I feel my heart thumping so loudly it drowns out the room.
‘Alright, Romeo,’ Charlie interrupts. ‘Photos now, canoodling later.’
I follow her through the crowd, catching snippets of conversations as we go. Coach Wallace is nursing a coke in the corner, nodding solemnly at Jamie.
Gordon MacKenzie claps me on the shoulder when I reach him. ‘Lennox! Good to see you settling down, lad.’ His eyes sweep over Theo, assessing.
I smile through gritted teeth. ‘She’s something else.’
‘Listen, lad. We’ve all sown our wild oats, some of us more thoroughly than others.
But two at once?’ MacKenzie whistles through his teeth, low and slow.
‘That’s a hell of a stat. Still, best to stick with one now.
A good lass by your side, the right kind of headlines…
That sort of taming does wonders for a man’s reputation and our brand. We’re a family company, after all.’
His tone’s pissing me off.
‘Smile, boys.’ Charlie positions me next to Brodie and the kit display before I can tell MacKenzie where to shove his family values.
I throw my arm around Brodie’s shoulder. ‘How’s it feel to be a nice guy, eh?’
He gives a low, grudging sound. ‘Weird. How does it feel to finally grow up?’
‘Even weirder.’
Theo’s fringe falls across her forehead as she concentrates. ‘Perfect. You look respectable, Lennox.’
‘Blasphemy.’
She winks at me.
And I know with gut-punching, balls-kicking clarity that I’d trade every single wild oat I’ve sown to be the man she comes home to.
Three hours, three Irn Brus, and a dozen smiling photo ops later, the pub’s lost its buzz. Most of the crowd has trickled out.
We’re still at the same booth, but the circle’s thinned.
Jamie’s long gone, muttering something about protein and priorities.
Scottie ducked out halfway through and never came back.
Now it’s just me, Theo, Brodie, and Charlie.
She’s perched sideways, back against the wall, one boot on the seat.
Theo’s curled beside me, half-leaning, eyes soft with the fatigue that comes after too much noise.
Next to Charlie, Brodie lounges with one arm draped along the back of their bench, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles against her jacket.
He’s relaxed in that way only people in love seem to master.
He knows where he belongs. Charlie leans into it.
Doesn’t even seem to notice she’s doing it.
I do. And I’m not proud of the thought that hits me next.
A quiet ache. That half-conscious yearning for something settled and real.
I want this with Theo.
We said we’d keep this thing going till May.
Ride it out through the season and reassess.
See where we stand. But I already know where I stand.
Right fucking here. With her. Only, I’ve no idea if she’s standing anywhere near me.
Or if she’s already half-packed, ready to bolt the second the clock runs out.
Charlie sips her gin and sets it down with exaggerated precision. Her lips are pressed together in a tight smile that keeps threatening to split into a wide grin.
She can’t be pregnant, she’s drinking gin. So that’s not it.
‘I’ve got news. Big news,’ she finally admits. ‘Can’t say yet. Don’t want to tempt fate. Let’s just say all this relationship spin might’ve worked better than planned. A lot better.’
Theo narrows her eyes. ‘Better how?’
‘Oh, you’ll see.’ Charlie smile gets broader.
I tip my chair slightly. ‘That’s ominous.’
‘No. It’s promising,’ she says. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in as soon as the timing’s right.’
‘You’re such a tease,’ Theo says dryly.
Charlie shrugs, but she’s clearly fit to burst. ‘I’m only saying that your public snogs might’ve tipped things in our favour. That’s all.’
I stare Theo down like she’s the one who invented kissing. ‘We are extremely snog-forward. That’s not a bad thing.’
Charlie twists her glass slowly between her fingers, still grinning. ‘It’s not. Not at all.’
Brodie leans back, his arm behind her. ‘You done being cryptic, or should we get a translator?’
‘Dance with me, and I might cave.’ She nudges him with her knee.
He sighs, stands, and holds out a hand. ‘Awright, Champ. But only because I don’t want to hear Finn try to be seductive again.’
They disappear toward a slow song coming through the speakers. Something with a saxophone and too much reverb.
Theo watches them go and lets out a yawn that stretches through her whole body. ‘I need my bed.’
‘Is that code for “Please eat my pussy again, Finn, please please please”?’
‘That’s not how I sound.’ Her laugh’s low and throaty. ‘But now I’m reconsidering my definition of tired.’
I drag my nose along the curve of her ear, catching the sweet scent of her skin. ‘Your boiler’s still being a temperamental bastard, aye? My place is two minutes from here. Come crash at mine. I’ll heat you up properly.’
She eyes me, weighing it. ‘But I have to check on Elvis early tomorrow morning. He’s got heaps of food and three hot water bottles, but…’
‘…he’s your spoilt little prince of hell,’ I finish. ‘Nae bother. We’ll set an alarm. You can ride my face first thing, then feed your cat. Two pussies, one happy morning.’
‘If there’s one thing I’ll be begging for, Lennox,’ she says with that sparkle in her eyes, ‘it’s that you stop making group sex jokes.’