Chapter Eleven
Danny
This was wank.
A proper, hot, steaming pile of dogshit.
More bollocks than… I dunno, a big pile of bollocks. Whatever way I looked at it, this was fucking shit and I hated it.
I mean, if I really wanted to look closely, then maybe I’d have agreed that Ezra’s three-day waiting period was a good thing, but I’d always loathed other people making decisions for me and telling me what I could and couldn’t do. I was a fucking adult. I should get a say in this!
Although if I did, then Ezra should too and consent was important. But that didn’t mean I liked it.
It had been two days since we’d kissed in his office and he’d taken me back to his, only to hit me with rules and guidelines and all that shit. I didn’t want the terms and conditions. I wanted him to fuck me and finally shut down the voice in my brain.
“Fucking hell,” Mason said, leaning on the edge of the weight rack I was supposed to be using. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing! Why’d you think something’s up?” I asked as I grabbed some plates to stack on the bar, grateful that Charlie had gone to fill up our water bottles, so he couldn’t see me pouting.
No, I wasn’t pouting. I didn’t pout.
Except on special occasions. Necessary occasions. When it would get me something.
“That, for starters,” Mason said. He waved his hand at me in an all-encompassing way.
For someone who insisted I was the nosiest man he’d ever met, he didn’t half do a good job of following in my footsteps.
He just managed to frame it as being concerned.
“And you’ve been a right mardy git all week.
I know it’s the first week back, and Gavin seems to think we’ve been off for six months rather than eight weeks, but still, you’re being a real brat. ”
“Sod off,” I said, resisting the urge to stick out my tongue at him.
I knew I was playing into his hands by swearing at him instead of keeping my cool, but I’d never had a calm head when I was wound up and trying to keep things hidden.
If I wasn’t careful, someone would figure out my secret simply by looking at me for long enough, and I’d hate that.
I suddenly realised how the other guys in the team must have felt when they were hiding their sexualities or relationships, questioning every move, every word, simply to make sure they didn’t give anything away.
Fuck, it must have been torture for them.
It was for me, and I barely had anything to hide, only one kiss and some very confused feelings.
Guilt gnawed painfully at my stomach, like the acid inside it was melting through my organs.
I really had been a wanker to some of them in the past, and while I’d mostly asked questions because I was trying to pick apart the new emotions I’d been experiencing, I’d always put my foot in my mouth instead.
I wanted to apologise, and I already sort of had to West, but I didn’t know how to explain myself without giving everything away.
Mason sighed at me. “Really mature, Wheeler,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “You know if there’s something going on, you can tell us. We’re pretty good at problem solving.”
“And I told you, there’s nothing going on.”
“Then why are you being such a dick?”
“I’m not!” I grabbed the bar off the rack and began my set of squats, hoping that would encourage Mason to sod off. Only Charlie arrived, and suddenly I realised things were about to get ten times worse. Especially if Charlie thought I was hiding things from him.
“What’s going on?” Charlie asked as he put our water bottles down. I could feel him looking at me, even if I was doing my best to stare at a spot on the far wall somewhere over the top of Bailey’s head.
“Nothing, I’m trying to do my set and Mason’s annoying me.”
“I’m only asking questions, nothing wrong with that,” Mason said. He turned to Charlie and continued. “Don’t you think Danny’s been a bit of a brat this week?”
“Maybe? But it’s the first week back. I think we’re all feeling it.” Thank you, Charlie. He was definitely getting a nice birthday present. Maybe some beer too—some of that fancy stuff he really loved.
“Yeah, but still, I think our mulleted menace here is hiding something,” Mason said. “And I was letting him know he can talk to any of us if he’s struggling.”
“Which I’m not,” I said as I squatted low, feeling the burn in my arse and thighs. I’d always enjoyed a good workout, and I loved seeing the results when I looked in the mirror. And from the looks I’d seen him throwing my way, Ezra enjoyed them too.
I’d have to make sure I wore my smallest shorts for every game he was working.
To give him something to look at in case the game was boring.
And to remind him exactly what he could have if he gave me what I wanted.
“Are you sure? Because you have been a bit snappy this week, and you’re kinda distracted,” Charlie said. Wanker. No beer for him then.
“I’m fine. Seriously. The only thing bothering me right now is you two.”
“Now you know what it feels like,” Mason said with a wry smile.
I did stick my tongue out at him then, because he was being a dick and I didn’t care if it made me look childish.
And it was all I could do while still trying to concentrate on my set.
At this rate, I was going to ask Ezra to make both of them do ridiculous TikTok dances as petty revenge for their interference.
Charlie was still staring at me, I could see it out of the corner of my eye, and I tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring into the side of my head.
“You know you can tell me if there’s something wrong,” Charlie said in a low voice as I re-racked the bar, shaking out my legs and reaching for my drink.
“And if it’s something I’ve done, then—”
“It’s not, I promise,” I said, shooting him a rough grin. “Just getting back into the routine, that’s all.”
“Yeah but—”
“Gentlemen, everything okay here?” Gavin asked, striding into our midst and looking between the three of us with demanding disapproval, his moustache bristling.
He reminded me a bit of those stereotypical army generals from the old war films my grandad liked to watch every Sunday afternoon while I sat next to him on the sofa with my Nintendo DS.
That reminded me that I needed to give him a call, see if I could go down for a visit. And get all the latest gossip on my old street. I really wanted to know if he’d found out if Sandra at number ten and Dave at number twenty-four were really together or just shagging in secret.
Would Ezra be interested in the gossip? I bet he would. It was the best reality show I’d come across.
“Yeah, fine,” Charlie said as Mason attempted to slide out of sight without Gavin noticing, since he didn’t approve of loitering when we were supposed to be working. In the past when I’d been caught, I’d tried to play it off as camaraderie and building morale, but it hadn’t gotten me anywhere.
“Then why are the three of you standing around like a bunch of old men discussing the weather? Back to work, please. Preseason training is essential for another successful season.” He waved his hand at us, a sign for us to continue without further discussion.
Usually, I’d have grumbled about Gavin’s bossy, overbearing demands, but today I was grateful for his interruption.
As Charlie stepped under the bar to start his first set, I took another long sip of my drink.
I wasn’t being bratty. I was frustrated by this whole Ezra situation and wanted things now, not tomorrow. That wasn’t bratty. That was knowing what I wanted.
Mason was just shit stirring.
“Oi, watch where you’re throwing the ball, dickhead,” I yelled, barely catching the pass Kegan had thrown my way, snatching it out of the air before it smacked me in the face. “You’re meant to aim for my arms, not my nose!”
“Chill out, mate, it was one bad pass,” Kegan said. “And you still caught it.”
“Only ’cos I’m actually good at my job!”
Kegan rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Wheeler. You’re being a right whiny brat today.”
“Am not!”
“Yeah, you are.”
“You’re the one whining,” I snapped, throwing the ball back at him and watching gleefully as it smacked him in the stomach.
Deep down, I knew his pass wasn’t that big of an issue, but for some reason everything that afternoon was getting under my skin and frustrating the fuck out of me.
The feeling had built up over the day, and now it felt like there was this angry buzzing in my head I couldn’t shake.
I was pissed and frustrated and I had no idea why.
Only that it felt like nothing was going my way.
“Grow up,” Kegan said, tucking the ball under his arm. “You’re being a bellend.”
“Takes one to fucking know one.”
“Hey! What’s going on?” Matty asked as he approached us wearing that concerned parent face he seemed to have perfected over the last six months. The one that said he wasn’t mad, just disappointed.
“Wheeler’s being a brat,” Kegan said, gesturing with one hand like I wasn’t stood two fucking feet in front of him. “I threw one slightly high pass and he’s acting like I’d tried to murder him or some shit.”
“What the fuck? No! You threw a shit pass and then tried to deny it.”
“I didn’t deny it,” Kegan said. “I said it was a bad pass but you still caught it, so it’s not like it’s really an issue. And then you blew up at me.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” I said angrily, jabbing my finger in his direction. My brain was screaming at me that I was taking this too far, but I didn’t know how to stop myself. The rest of the backs were gathering around us now, all muttering to each other as they judged me.
Fuck them, I didn’t need any of this.
“Don’t be a twat and I won’t have to,” Kegan said, stepping a bit closer. The atmosphere between us felt like a shaken-up bottle of pop ready to explode as soon as someone touched the lid.
“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Matty said firmly as he put himself between us, putting his hands on our chests to keep us separated.
“Danny, I don’t know what is bothering you today, but your behaviour is out of order.
You need to calm down and if you can’t do that, then you need to get off the pitch and go and cool off. ”
“What? I didn’t do anything!”
Matty stared at me, exasperation written across his face. He pointed at the edge of the pitch where Clive was stood next to a bunch of water bottles. “Okay, that’s enough. Ten minutes. Go and calm down and figure your shit out.”
“You can’t send me off. You’re not a coach.”
“No, but I am your captain and you’re out of order. And if you keep throwing a tantrum, I will get Clive and Tommy involved and they’ll tell you exactly the same. So get your arse moving and come back when you’re ready to apologise and train properly.”
I scoffed and threw my hands in the air but couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t get me in trouble. Instead I did as I was told and stalked over to the edge of the pitch and pretended to get a drink, hoping Clive wouldn’t have noticed the mess.
He did—he noticed everything. But at least he was nice enough not to say it to my face.
All he asked was, “Everything okay, Danny?”
“Yeah,” I said, deciding that, for a moment, honesty was the best policy. “Just getting in my head about shit. I dunno why.”
Clive nodded as I grabbed a bottle of water and took a long drink, resisting the urge to chew the top of it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Any reason you might be getting in your head?”
It was an innocuous question, but I suddenly wondered if he knew. I swallowed, not looking at him. “Dunno. Probably stress. Wanna make sure I’m on my A game this season and don’t fuck anything up.”
It was a vague worry I had, but I was really fucking good at what I did, so it wasn’t really a pressing issue. It made a reasonable excuse, though.
Clive nodded again thoughtfully. “You know we’re all here for you if need anything. Or if you want to have a chat, we can. Just you and me. And I promise, nothing will leave my office unless you want it to.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a small smile, hoping that would be enough to convince him I was taking his offer into consideration. There was only one person I wanted to talk to, though, and he wasn’t here.
I glanced up at the training centre, trying to pick out Ezra’s office amongst the line-up of blind-covered windows on the second floor. They all looked the same, though, and it was hard to tell from here which was which.
But I could have sworn I saw the blinds on one of them twitching.