Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
Jonny
“Can you two please get your fucking asses up?” I grumbled as I grabbed the waistbands of Hunter’s and Gabriel’s shorts and yanked them into position, ignoring their yelped protests. “Stop whining. If you didn’t want underwear up your crack, you shouldn’t have dropped your fucking ass.”
“Next time I’ll shove your underwear up your ass. See how you like it,” Hunter yelled, his voice muffled by Jaden’s and West’s massive thighs.
“Yeah, well, do your fucking job better and it won’t happen again.”
We were deep into scrum training and Trevor, our scrum coach, had insisted on running full scrum drills because the second row kept dropping and wobbling, making it harder for the front row to stay engaged. We’d had a few scrums collapse in our last few matches, and we couldn’t afford for it to happen again.
My job as the number eight was to bind the back of the scrum, push them forward, pick the ball up, and either run like hell or pass it out to someone who could. But I couldn’t do that if the fucking scrum collapsed. Typically in the past, I’d started low and when we’d engaged, I’d pushed upwards with my arms wrapped around Hunter’s and Gabriel’s outer thighs, but now I was trying a different tactic.
Namely, dropping down into position and hauling them up by their shorts to make sure they stayed where they were supposed to be.
I couldn’t put the fear of God into them, but I could put the fear of having underwear lodged so far up their ass they’d have to get naked to extract it.
The whistle blew and we all collapsed into a heap. I patted Hunter on the ass as I climbed to my feet and he scowled as he stood up next to me, his fingers reaching for his wedgie. “That was a dick move,” he said as I helped Gabriel up.
“Maybe, but it worked. You kept your back level.”
“No way, you just wanted to punish me for something,” Hunter said, a half smile, half grimace on his face as he pulled his shorts loose. Maybe I’d have to suggest he wore a jock underneath instead of his usual colourfully printed skintight shorts. Although I’d seen enough of his hairy ass already, and I wasn’t sure I needed to see it any more.
“Yeah, being shit,” I said teasingly. I turned to Andy, who was the openside flanker and was always on Hunter’s left in the scrum. “What did you think, Andy? Better?”
“It did feel a little more stable,” he said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe being hauled up by your balls is good for you.”
“You leave my balls out of this!” Hunter pointed a finger at him then looked over to Trevor. “What did you think, Trevor?”
“You were definitely more level,” he said with a pleased nod. Trevor was softly spoken but we always listened to him. He knew how to get the best out of all of us, and even if we wanted to argue, we respected him too much to do so. Unless we really disagreed, then we’d say something knowing he’d give us the same respect we gave him. “Remember we’re looking for overall progression and to avoid a repeat of what happened against York.”
We all nodded and grimaced, a muttered chorus of agreement running around the group. The York match had been a disaster and we’d been lucky to only lose by fifteen points because it could have been so much worse. We’d taken a fucking beating and we all knew it. And if we wanted to succeed in Europe, we needed to get our damn act together, especially since we’d be starting that run of competition matches soon.
Trevor made us run the scrum a couple more times before releasing us for a water break before we regrouped with the backs for passing drills. As I grabbed a water bottle, I watched Devon talking to Neil, one of the assistant coaches who also specialised in kicking. They looked very deep in conversation and as I watched, Devon took a ball and a kicking tee and strode over to the edge of the pitch, putting the ball down at one of the steepest angles he’d ever have to kick.
He took several steps back, looking between the ball and the goal posts. His face was the picture of concentration as he smoothly moved forward and sent the ball flying with his right foot. It curved high in the air and for a moment I thought it might go wide, but I hadn’t factored in the winter breeze.
The ball dropped neatly over the bar and Devon nodded with satisfaction as I stared in awe.
“Damn,” Mason said from his spot beside me. “Does he ever miss?”
“Once,” I said. “When we were seventeen. It was that angle in pouring rain and gale-force winds. The ball went wide.”
“Seriously? That’s it?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure there’ve been other times but that’s the only one I remember. It’s practically impossible for anyone to have a perfect record, so…”
Mason clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re a true friend, Jonny. Always remembering the good stuff, never the shit.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said with a swallow, my eyes still lingering on Devon as he lined up for another kick from the other side of the pitch. “Always thinking of others.”
“Did you mention anything to Devon about Peaches?”
My head snapped around as Devon’s foot connected with the ball, the thump reverberating around the training ground. But I didn’t see if it went through the posts because I was too busy glaring at Mason. “What?”
He frowned, then raised one eyebrow like he was surprised. “Did you mention anything to Devon about Peaches being interested in him? Only Ry said he thought they’d been messaging.”
“Yeah? Where’d he hear that?”
“Peaches said something about a guy sliding into his DMs and that he might finally get to shag a hot rugby player too.” He grinned and shrugged. “I guess he knows what he’s missing out on.”
I let out a rumbling hum of acknowledgement as something snarled inside my chest and my fingers suddenly curled into an itching fist. Devon was more than a quick shag, and Peaches should know that.
Not that I really knew Peaches, but still. If he only wanted a meaningless fuck, there were plenty of other guys out there he could do that with. And while I wanted Devon to get laid and have fun, I didn’t want someone treating him like a piece of meat or a cheap toy they could throw away the next morning.
“What’s up with you?” Mason asked. “What’s with the fucking growling?”
“I’m not growling.”
“Yeah, you are. Did you suddenly become a werewolf when I wasn’t looking? Mate, if you turn and shred the new cushions on the sofa, Ryan is gonna be pissed.”
“I’m not a fucking werewolf, dickhead!”
“Then why are you growling?” Mason asked, poking me in the chest. “West, come here.”
“What?” West strolled over with a bottle in hand, looking between the pair of us with confusion.
“Jonny growled at me!”
“I didn’t growl at you!”
“Yeah, you did. But he won’t tell me why,” Mason said petulantly. God, sometimes I wondered why I was friends with this man, let alone lived with him. He never knew when to leave things alone.
“What did you do?” West asked Mason with a flat stare as he took a swig of water and adjusted his shirt. We were all practically steaming in the freezing air, and I knew the coaches would make us get moving again in a minute so we didn’t get cold.
“Me? Nothing! Why do assume it’s me?” Mason asked, his outrage so loud I was sure everyone heard us.
“Because it’s always you,” West said.
“That’s not true. Out of the three of us, I might not be the most sensible but I’m not stupid. And I don’t start fights. I just finish them when people are being prats.” He raised an eyebrow at West like he was trying to remind him of something. I had no idea what they were on about, probably something to do with the time West had nearly beaten up our old housemate for being a cunt, but hopefully their bickering would give me a moment to escape.
I turned, aiming to slide away amongst the rest of the team… and nearly walked straight into Devon.
“Shit, sorry,” I said, holding up my hands and chuckling softly, my eyes immediately drawn to the beaming smile on his face. Devon always looked good when he smiled. There was something about the emotion that suited him. It radiated out in a way that was infectious and even if I was pissed, if Devon smiled, I found myself smiling too.
“You’re fine,” he said. “Are there any bottles of water left?”
“Yeah, should be. If not, you can have mine.”
“Thanks.”
“Your kicks looked good,” I said as I steered Devon over to the wire holders on the grass that had the bottles in, using my body to easily push us through the crowd. “Aiming for a perfect season?”
“I wish,” he said, grabbing a bottle and pulling the top open. “It would be nice, but even last season I still missed a few. And Matty was muttering something about storms coming in at the weekend. If anything is going to ruin my streak, it’ll be the weather.”
“Gotta love British winters. Wet, wet, and more wet.”
“Don’t forget grey. Just endless grey.” He sighed sadly. “I miss the sunshine, Jonny. Why do we live in such a miserable fucking country?”
“You moved back here! You could’ve stayed in France.”
“Yeah but…” He trailed off and took a long swig of his water. He tilted his chin up, nodding at something over my shoulder. “Mason’s waving at you.”
“Just ignore him,” I said. “He’s being a dickhead.”
Devon chuckled, the sound wrapping itself around my chest. “Why? What’s he doing?”
“Accused me of being a werewolf for one.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“Dunno. Apparently, I growled at him?”
Devon laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “What? That’s ridiculous. I’ve never heard you growl! Apart from that one time when you got really fucking mad when we were, like, fourteen and took Courtney trick-or-treating and some assholes tried to steal our stuff. And that wasn’t really a growl… more like… you know when Simba tries to roar in The Lion King ? Yeah, it was like that.”
“I’m not sure if I should be offended or take that as a compliment,” I muttered as I heard Mason’s heavy footsteps behind me. I knew it was him without even looking, because who else was going to make a beeline for me? “What do you want?”
“Just come to find my new werewolf buddy,” Mason said, throwing his arm around my shoulder. He sounded far too fucking happy and I was going to have to get Ryan to deal with him later. Maybe I could suggest he make Mason beg, then get out of dodge before I had to hear it or before the pair of them figured out how I knew what Mason was into.
“God, you’re insufferable today,” I said.
“And you’re being a grumpy motherfucker for no reason,” Mason said. “Devon, why is Jonny being so grumpy today? Do you know?”
“Probably because you said he’s a werewolf when we all know Jonny’s a vampire fan,” Devon said teasingly, shooting me a wink. “I mean who’d pick being a wet dog over a vampire?”
Mason laughed. “So that’s why he’s so obsessed with getting us to watch Interview with the Vampire with him.”
“Piss off,” I said, giving him a shove. Mason was really getting under my skin today and I didn’t know why.
“God, you are miserable today. Do you need a nap?” Mason asked and when I grunted at him, he just said, “Thought so.” He squeezed my shoulder almost apologetically and added quietly, “Have Ryan and I been keeping you up?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Mason groaned, his face a picture of mortified embarrassment. “Fuck. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Didn’t want to ruin your fun,” I muttered. “Didn’t think you’d want to know I could hear everything.”
“Everything?”
“ Everything . At least when you’re in Ryan’s room. Yours is a little better. Bathroom is worse ’cos there’s a bit of an echo. Don’t worry, I’m gonna dig my earplugs out.”
“Appreciate it,” Mason said in a strangled voice, and I almost felt bad for him. Then I remembered what a pain in the ass he’d been all day and my sympathy vanished. “So,” Mason continued as he desperately tried to change the subject. “Devon, is it true you’ve been chatting to Peaches?”