Chapter 17
Finn
“Sooo. . .” Megan says, drawing out the word. “What do you think of Aiden?”
We’re all sharing a booth at Side Quest, an indie bar in Bath. Neutral territory. It has a vague retro-video-games theme, which is fun, but most importantly it’s dark, loud but still conversable, and has alcohol.
Megan and her best friend and flatmate Georgia are sitting on the bench opposite me and Pi, though he’s just nipped out to the loos.
I’ve been waiting for this moment. The girls’ midpoint debrief on the suitability of Pi as a potential significant other for Georgia.
I’m more nervous than I imagined I would be.
A lot is riding on Georgia’s opinion. It’s important that she likes my teammate, not only so she’ll want to date him and we can all hang out together more often, but also because I will be personally offended if she doesn’t think he’s the absolute dog’s bollocks.
Kind of like when someone says they hate your favourite movie, or if they say hot dogs are only for little kids.
Still haven’t forgiven Stacey Jackson in year six for that one.
I’m desperate for a piss, but I need to hear the verdict before I excuse myself, so I’m hanging around to listen in.
“Okay, yeah. He’s gorgeous,” Georgia admits.
“Right? And that accent is so cute,” Megan adds. “And Finn says he’s very sweet, and gentle, and shy, and he’s a feminist.”
Did I? Did I really say all that, or is she paraphrasing?
She doesn’t seem to mind that I could contradict her at any moment—not that I would, I believe he is all those things. She keeps going. “He has a dog, and a mortgage, but . . . and this could be a big but, he has a lot of nerd toys in his house and even in his bedroom.”
Damn, okay, I told her that in secret.
Georgia raises a single brow at me. I assume she’s asking how I know what the inside of Pi’s bedroom looks like.
“I . . . went round his house to drop something off,” I say defensively. It’s true, though, I did drop something off. Right onto his bare chest.
“Is that a deal breaker?” Megs asks Georgia.
“No.” Georgia hums to herself, tapping her acrylics against her wine glass. “I guess it might be kinda cute. Could be worse, I suppose. Could be fan art of a huge-donged Wolverine.”
“Hey!” I reach across the table and flick Megan’s forearm. “I can’t believe you told her about my Wolverine X Jean Grey pervert’s shrine. Is nothing sacred any more?”
Megan winks at me and mouths, “Love you.” She turns to Georgia and holds her hands out in front of her with a twelve inch gap between them. “Also, Aiden has a massive dick.”
My elbow slips from the tabletop and my fist bangs into the edge, jangling the empty glasses against each other. I want to say, “It’s not quite that big,” but I stop myself just in time.
“Oh my god.” A smile slides across Georgia’s face. “How do you know that?” She’s looking at me.
I can’t even muster an “Uh.” All I can picture is Pi on his back in the centre of his bed, his legs spread wide, my fingers inside his asshole, his cock in his hand, and cum spraying over his chest.
Thankfully, I don’t have to answer. Megan does it for me.
“Locker rooms, communal showers, grabbing each other’s bollocks in the middle of a scrum, getting drunk and shoving things up each other’s bums, literal pissing contests, circle jerks.”
Georgia surveys me over the top of her glass, her brow furrowed. “Boys. Ew.”
“Hey, we never had circle jerks,” I say meekly.
“But the other stuff?” she asks.
I shrug, raise my hands in a surrender gesture, and Megan’s laughter blasts through the pub.
“Sometimes it makes me so sad that I’m attracted to men,” Georgia says, even though she’s smiling.
Megan places a hand on her bicep. “Girl,” is all she says in response.
I’m not sure what Megs means by that, and it’s probably best I don’t dwell on it for too long. Not that I would anyway. Thinking in general isn’t exactly my jam sandwich, and I want to chat with Pi alone before I lose him for the rest of the night to Georgia’s small talk.
“Okay, I’m going for a piss,” I say, pushing out of my seat. “Megs, get the next round on my card, yeah?”
“Oh, I’ve got it. Next round’s on me,” Georgia says, and she and Megan do some shuffling so Georgia can get to the bar.
When I arrive at the bathroom, Pi’s still standing beside the urinal, but he’s not peeing. He’s on his phone, his face crumpled into the deepest frown I’ve ever seen on another living being. He hasn’t even noticed my arrival.
“What’s up, princess?” I say, pulling up to the urinal next to his.
“Oh, shit.” He flinches, and glances around the space.
But we’re alone. I wouldn’t call him princess in the presence of others.
That’s a “private us” thing. His shoulders relax.
“Nothing. Nothing . . . it’s . . .” He scrapes a hand down his face, closes his eyes, shakes his head, looks towards the door, and stashes his phone in his back pocket. “It’s nothing.”
“Okay, pard,” I say. I try to keep my tone neutral and pretend I’m focusing all my attention on peeing.
“It’s just . . . my mum,” he says. I still don’t look at him for fear of scaring him away. “She’s drunk. Obviously. The only time she ever calls me is when she’s drunk.”
“What time is it in Perth?” I ask.
“About six in the morning, but she left me some voice messages a few hours ago.” He one-eighties and marches towards the sinks.
I pee faster, then catch up to him.
I almost don’t want to ask, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to tell me, but I feel like, as a friend, I should.
As a friend.
As more than a friend?
“What did she say?” I wash my hands, and watch him in the mirror.
“Oh, just the yoozh. To let me know my brother’s been nicked again, that I am an endless disappointment, and that I shouldn’t bother coming home for Christmas this year.” He closes his eyes and angles his face away from his reflection.
My instinct is to hug him, wrap my arms around his shoulders and push his curly blonde head into my chest. I don’t do that because even though I’ve had my fingers inside him, it feels like that might overstep a boundary.
“Were you planning on flying back for Christmas?” He hadn’t mentioned this to me, but I suppose there was no reason for him to.
Pi heaves a massive sigh, faces forward, and fixes his hair. “No, because we have a match on the twenty-eighth. But that’s the whole point. She knew I wasn’t coming home, but it has to be on her terms. It has to be her denying me the invite, rather than the other way around.”
“So, what are you doing on Christmas Day?” I wipe my hands on my jeans.
He shrugs. “Eating nachos, switching off my phone, watching Heated Rivalry.”
“By yourself?”
Pi turns to glare at me, one hand on his hip. He says nothing, but his expression screams, “Who the fuck am I supposed to spend it with?”
“No.” I mess up his hair with my fingertips. “Pack your bags, princess. You’re coming to Cornwall with me for Christmas.”
One side of his face cracks into a smile, and he just stares at me. “Can I bring Trekkie?”
“Let me double check with my mum, but I don’t see why not.”
He smiles. Stops it forming all the way and straightens his features. Then smiles again. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, as he fixes his hair once more. “So, what do you think of Georgia?”
He’s grinning now. “Yeah, she’s cute. She’s really cute. But like . . .” He glances around the bathroom once more even though we’re still alone and the door remains firmly closed. “What’s gonna happen with . . . us?”
“Well, I mean, you two aren’t exactly exclusive, are you? Even if you date, you probably won’t be exclusive for a while yet.”
“I suppose.” He turns away from me and says his next words to the Finn in the mirror. “Aren’t you and Megs exclusive? Does she know about us? What if she finds out?”
“Um . . .”
I could tell him Megan and I agreed to a semi-open relationship.
That would mean telling him I lied about our last two encounters, and as far as Megan’s concerned, we only snogged one time at Halloween because he was being a sad sack on his lonesome.
It would also involve some kind of plan or strategy to confess to the rest, and well, I fucking hate making plans.
I go with some semblance of honesty. “She . . . knows we kissed, which means Georgia knows too. Megs said she never told her, but that’s bullshit.
I’m not that stupid. I guarantee the second I finished telling her, she was texting George.
I haven’t said anything about Leicester or what happened at yours. And . . . I’m not sure that I will.”
It’s damning. I’m officially a cheater. An adulterer.
A rat. An asshole. And now would be a good time for Pi to back out of this whole arrangement.
After all, Megan and I will not survive this.
No relationship stands a chance when there are secrets this big.
I love Megan, but I’m intrigued by Pi, and this will only end when one of them calls it a day.
Because it won’t be me who ends it.
I want my cake, and I want to eat it too.
“So, they know we kissed?” Pi asks.
I nod.
“But nothing else?”
“No.”
“And you’re happy for us to keep meeting up?” He’s holding his breath. His body is so still that there’s no rise and fall of his chest.
“I would really fucking like that.” My voice comes out as a whisper.
“If we continue . . .” He shoots another look towards the door. “We’d be doing it in total secrecy?”
“Yep. Pretty much.”
“Are you okay with that?” he asks.
“As long as you are?” We’re just having fun. We’re both aware of that. There’s no reason for either of us to turn a molehill into a mountain.
Pi’s cheeks are flushed, he wets his lips, and my eyes home in on the movement. “Good, because the next time we hang out, I want to get on my knees for you.”
“Fuck,” is all I can say in reply, before Pi walks out of the bathroom.
Of course I watch his ass as he goes.