Chapter Twenty-Three
Hunter
“Good morning, boys,” Jonny said as Bailey and I walked past his and Devon’s table in the canteen the following morning, kicking a chair out and shooting both of us a look that told us to sit our arses down. Now. “Fancy joining us?”
“Er… sure,” I said, glancing at Bailey and wondering if it was too late to abandon our trays and run. Devon was quick, though. And the canteen was filling up fast, which meant any attempt to flee would be noticed. The last thing I wanted was for this to become a team discussion.
“Is there a problem?” Bailey asked as we sat down opposite them in the chairs that were usually occupied by West and Mason. Who were conspicuously absent.
“No. I just wanted to chat.” He smiled at us. There was a slightly feral edge to it, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I might be bigger than both him and Devon, but I’d seen what Jonny could do when pushed. And I did not fancy starting a fight in the middle of the canteen.
“Is this about Aiden?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’m guessing he’s at your place?”
“You don’t know?” Bailey asked, his tone of surprise mirroring the look on my face.
“I assumed,” Jonny said as he stabbed a piece of fried potato. “He’s not answering my messages. Which isn’t unusual for him.”
“Really?” Jonny and Devon stared at me, and I frowned, confused and surprised by what Jonny had said.
“Yeah? Does he answer you?” Devon asked, a glimmer of amusement twinkling in the corner of his eye.
“Usually, unless he’s busy working or at the pub, but even then he’s normally got his phone on him,” Bailey said slowly. “Sometimes it takes a couple of hours, but, yeah, we get something.”
“Jesus.” Jonny chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head.
“You two really are special,” Devon said with a wry smile as he sipped his glass of orange juice. If he was trying not to look smug, he was failing.
“It’s only messages. It’s not that big a deal,” Bailey said, but I could hear the faint uncertainty in his voice.
“Let me tell you something about my brother,” Jonny said.
“Getting regular replies out of him is like winning the bloody lottery. When I wanted to tell him about me and Devon, I called him because otherwise I was pretty sure I was going to get left on read for a month. And when he did pick up the phone, he asked me who’d died.
He regularly leaves me on read from anywhere between twenty-four hours and six weeks, depending on what he’s doing.
And when he does reply, he acts like no time has passed.
I could ask what his plans were for Christmas and he’d get back to me in bloody January to tell me he was busy.
I love him to fucking bits, but half the time I feel like I’m lighting the fucking Bat-Signal and hoping he feels like answering. ”
I snorted. I was tempted to say that maybe we got a response because of what our messages included, but this conversation was going really well so far and I didn’t want to jinx it.
“I know that look,” Devon said, a pleased smirk on his lips. He was enjoying this far too much. “They only get a response because of what they’re sending Aiden. Is it dick pics? I bet it’s dick pics.”
“Angel, I love you but you’re not helping,” Jonny said, looking at Devon with a flat, unamused expression.
“He’s, um, he’s not entirely wrong, though,” Bailey muttered before shoving a spoonful of fruit and yoghurt into his mouth.
Jonny glared at us like he was suddenly reconsidering his life choices this morning. “That’s not helpful either.”
“It’s not always sexting,” I said. “Sometimes we talk about work. He sends us voice notes while he’s baking. And we send each other random stuff about our days or silly shit we’ve seen. We sent him pics from Ibiza too.”
“And not just sexy ones,” Bailey added quickly. “Like from when we were out on the boat. And when we walked around the Old Town.”
“And he responded? To all of them?”
“Yeah,” I said.
Jonny huffed and Devon said gleefully, “I told you! I told you it was more than casual.”
“Yes, thank you,” Jonny said sarcastically. “We’ve already established that, despite what Aiden said.”
“That’s why we’re not listening to what Aiden thinks,” Devon said as he stabbed a piece of pineapple with a casual shrug. He looked between Bailey and me, tilting his head to one side slightly as he chewed thoughtfully. Then he added, “What did he tell you two?”
“About what?” Bailey asked.
“About what Jonny said last night. I’m guessing he said something?”
I glanced at Bailey, the pair of us silently weighing up how much we should tell them.
I didn’t want to reveal all of Aiden’s secrets—he deserved privacy—but I could also see how worried Jonny was.
“A little, yeah. I think he’s a bit freaked out that you’re not…
angry and upset. I think he kind of expected you to be. I think we all did.”
Pain flashed across Jonny’s face and his expression crumpled.
He exhaled slowly as Devon put his hand out and squeezed his arm.
“I suppose I should’ve expected that. But I’m trying.
I really am. You’re all adults. What you do in private is none of my business.
Besides, Aiden’s scarier than you two. I’ve seen both of you drunk, naked, and doing karaoke.
Nothing about you worries me except your taste in music, your lack of tidiness, and maybe your dancing.
But you don’t shit on people you sleep with, especially women, you’re not dickheads, and you’re not…
I mean I know the bar for men is low but you’re climbing over it, not going under.
And if you had a problem with Aiden, then trust me, I’d be the least of your worries.
Aiden’d have your heads before you’d even blinked, and then there’s Bacon. ”
“Yeah, we’ve heard about Bacon,” Bailey said. “He seems nice?”
“Oh, he is. Loves Aiden to bits. But he’s handed out more broken noses and busted ribs than we ever have on the rugby pitch,” Jonny said.
“Bacon reminds me of a Rottie. Or a Doberman,” Devon added. “Soft as butter most of the time, but protective as fuck about his people. And his pub.”
“Anyway,” Jonny continued. “I don’t care about what you and Aiden do, and this isn’t a threat.
It’s just… take care of him, okay? Please.
He’ll tell you he’s fine on his own, and maybe he is, but deep down I think all he really wants is to be loved.
And I don’t know if that’s how you feel or if it’s just sex, but I’m saying, if you want him, really want him, know that he’ll resist every step of the way.
He’ll fight you like his life fucking depends on it, but don’t let him go.
If you want a relationship with him, then prove it.
Show him what he means to you. Because once he realises you mean it, then you’ll become the centre of his universe. ”
He sighed and glanced out the window for a second.
“I know I’m asking a lot. And maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, maybe it is too much to ask.
But Aiden deserves to be fucking adored.
He won’t ask for himself, so I’m asking for him.
” He shook his head, a little smile playing across his lips. “He’d kill me for saying any of this.”
“Don’t worry, we won’t tell him how much you care. Because you’re right. He deserves everything,” I said.
It felt strange, sitting here listening to Jonny talk about Aiden with such love and worry.
I didn’t know how close they were, but it was obviously more than both of them let on.
Jonny had always been a quiet guy, and up until last year most of us hadn’t even realised he had a brother.
But I got the feeling that was Jonny’s way of protecting Aiden from people who might have had an issue with him.
There’d been a few toxic guys on the team in the past, but they’d all ended up either transferring or leaving the sport altogether.
Still, that didn’t mean everyone was automatically a safe person, and Jonny had always been private about his personal life.
The only reason any of us knew about his feelings for Devon was because it had bled into our team dynamics.
And Devon had come to training with his inner thighs covered in hickeys.
There was no way of hiding those, or blaming them on bad tackles, no matter what people in the locker room had suggested.
“This is looking very cosy.” The four of us turned in sync to see Danny and Charlie, the Knights first-choice wingers and resident gossips, standing in front of the table with full trays in hand. Danny was smiling like he knew something.
“I’m six foot seven, Wheeler. I make everything look cosy,” I said casually, hoping he’d take the hint and sod off.
“True, but that’s not what I meant.” He put his tray down and looked between all of us.
“Firstly, you all look really fucking preoccupied, so there’s definitely something going on.
Especially because Mason and West usually sit here, but they’re all the way over there”—he gestured to the other side of the room—“and they came in late, and you two usually sit in the middle. Often with me and Charlie. Sometimes with Matty if he’s here on time.
So, I’m going to assume this little get-together is about something serious…
probably about the fact Hunter and Bailey are shagging Jonny’s brother. ”
The four of us stared at him with various expressions of shock, annoyance, and resignation as Charlie pulled up two extra chairs so they could sit down, turning our cramped table of four into an uncomfortably tight table of six.
“Am I wrong?” Danny asked as he sat down.
“Go away, Danny,” Bailey said.
“Attempting to get around the question. Not helping your case there,” Charlie said with a nod as he took the seat next to Danny. “Next you’ll try changing the subject.”
“Or we could stop talking until you leave,” I said.
Charlie shrugged. “Again, not helping your case.”
“It’s all right. We won’t tell anyone,” Danny said. “I swear on my mullet. And Ezra’s dick.”
“Danny!”
“What? They’re my two most prized possessions. I mean, I could swear on my sister’s life, but I don’t think she’d be too happy about it.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jonny murmured, shotting his orange juice like it was vodka. The look on his face made it clear he wished it was.
“I’m right, though, aren’t I?” Danny asked, grinning proudly at Hunter and me.
“Yes, congratulations, you figured it out,” Bailey said with a roll of his eyes. “Now will you shut up and go away. And keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Please,” Danny said. “You forgot to say please.”
“That’s it,” Bailey said, his chair scraping on the floor as he pushed back, anger twisting his face.
“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” I said, putting my hand on Bailey’s shoulder. Now wasn’t the time for him to get wound up.
“Danny, don’t be a brat,” Devon said. There was something about the way he said it that made Danny clamp his mouth shut. An implied layer of threat.
“They could still say please,” Danny said but there was no heat in it. “Also, maybe they could consider that we’re happy for them and have been waiting for them to get their act together for a while.”
“They’re sat right here,” I said pointedly.
My hand was still on Bailey’s shoulder, and he’d folded his arms across his chest. I tried not to stare at the way it made his pecs look.
“And also, it’s not that simple, so if we ever have something to say about our dating life, we’ll say it.
Until then, mind your own beeswax, you nosy git. ”
Danny grinned, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by Charlie. “What are you all doing the Friday of our next weekend off? I think it’s the, er, twenty-third? Amanda’s trying to organise an engagement party, and she wants you all there. Dressed nicely.”
“Mate, I always dress nicely,” Danny said with outrage.
“Sorry, that means proper shoes. Not trainers.”
There was a collective groan, apart from Devon, who was radiating excitement.
He’d been taught to dress well during his years playing in the south of France, and it had stuck.
“Is there a theme?” Devon asked, leaning forward with delight.
“Colour scheme? How nicely are we talking here? Actual nice or rugby player nice?”
I shot Bailey a smile as the conversation moved on from us to Devon bickering with Danny and Charlie.
Jonny’s words were still playing in the back of my head.
If we were lucky, Aiden would be at our flat when we got home after training. Then we could talk.
And hopefully convince him just how much we needed him.