Chapter 31 #2
I leave him in the kitchen to give him time to correct it, and meet the flat’s new occupants in the hall. “How ya going, Abs? Lan?”
But the boys blithely push past me deeper into the flat.
Eggo hasn’t been able to fix his T-shirt.
In fact, he’s made it worse. Now, not only is it inside out, but it’s also back to front.
The branding label juts out at his throat like a little packet of cafe sugar.
He looks at me, clamps his teeth down on his bottom lip, and in my head I hear his panic. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
Orlando immediately clocks it. He makes eyes at Abs, though my ginger pal seems considerably less observant than his boyfriend.
“Oi oi, thanks for helping with this,” Abs says.
Eventually Eggo tears his wide-eyed gaze away from me and looks at the newcomers. “Abs! Orlando! How’d it go?”
“I got the job,” Orlando says. He raises a brow, which I take as an invitation to explain my teammate’s incorrectly donned shirt.
I ignore this. “Bloody ripper.” I high five him instead.
“Uhh . . .” Eggo scratches the back of his head. “Where do you want all these boxes?”
“You can just leave them there, thanks. This is such a big help,” Abs says.
“No problem, mate,” I say. Surely Abs can’t be this clueless. “Thank you for watching Trekkie for a few weeks. Let me explain a few things about feeding him and stuff.” I pull a list from my pocket, but with the other hand I’m shooing Eggo out of the room so he can slip away and fix his clothing.
He takes the hint and pushes himself off the counter. “While you guys are running through all that bollocks, I’m gonna take a wizz.”
I try to shield as much of his inside out T-shirt as I can, but Eggs is such a big guy, it’s almost impossible.
“Change of plan,” I say, as soon as Eggo’s left the room. “I’m not going to Australia.”
“What? Why not?” Abs asks, glancing at Trekkie.
I can’t tell them the real reason, so I take my phone out and show them the article from the sports blog. Moral support! I’ll explain that I’m helping him heal from his breakup. Also, that’s not even a lie.
“I’m going to Cornwall with Eggo for a few weeks instead.
He’s taking it pretty hard.” I don’t elaborate on the “it” part.
“You’ll still have Trekkie, though, yeah?
We’re not sure what we’re doing yet, or where we’ll be, and Eggs’s folks live in a tiny cottage by the sea, and well, Trekkie can be a bit of a terrorist.”
“Thank fuck!” Abs says, wrapping my dog in a desperate hug. “I mean, that sucks for Eggs, but at least he’s got you annoying the bejesus out of him for four weeks.”
A nervous laugh escapes. “Yeah, we’ll be able to do a lot of captain planning shit together.”
“Of course, captain planning shit,” Abs says. He stands, turns to his boyfriend, and winks at him.
Ahhh, fuck. He’s figured it out.
Well, this is going to be awkward.
“We’ll be off, then,” Eggo says, appearing in the doorway. “Leave you two lovebirds in peace.” His T-shirt is no longer inside out or back to front, and I can’t help but face-palm at how un-inconspicuous he’s been.
I try to make eyes with Abs and Orlando to give them some kind of “please don’t say anything” look, but at this point, it’s probably best if everything was all out in the open.
“We’ll take good care of Trekkie,” Orlando says, as Harry hops up and down with excitement.
The front door hasn’t even clicked closed before we hear Abs say, “They’re fucking.”
I suck in a huge breath, hold it for a few seconds, and let it out. “So, Abs might know about us.”
Owen Bosley’s daughter is moving to Scotland for a few years with her girlfriend, and all the Cents boys, plus a heap of other randos, have been invited over to Owen’s micro pub for a farewell party.
As per, it’s heaving. Which is both good and bad.
Bad because too many people make me feel trapped, but good because it’s easier to avoid Abs and Orlando this way.
“It’s gonna be so quiet in Mudford this summer,” Owen says, looking around the tiny tavern as though he’s expecting the interior decor to change the second his kid leaves.
“Daisy and Serasi gone. Harry and Lando back together. You’ll be off to Kernow, I assume.
” He looks at Eggo, and turns to me. “And I guess it’s home to Australia for you? ”
“Uhh . . .” I glance at Eggo, but his expression is unreadable. I need to find a quiet moment to tell him I want to go to his hometown with him. If he’ll still have me.
“When’re you off to sunny old Newquay, then, Finn?” Owen asks.
“Monday,” Eggo replies.
Owen looks at me and raises a brow. I take this to mean, “Same question.”
“Sunday evening,” I say.
Gadget’s behind the bar tonight. I expect so Daisy doesn’t have to work on her last night in Mudford—not that she’s sober enough for that anyway—but I guess he’ll be there a lot more often now. It kind of suits him, actually.
He reaches into his pocket and beckons me to the end of the counter, then he leans close and whispers into my ear.
“Here’s my key. The cottage is literally across the road if you wanted somewhere a bit .
. . more private to say your goodbyes.” He grips my shoulder so that I can’t move away. “Do not get your mess on my sheets.”
I lean back and stare open-mouthed at him for a few seconds. Eggo’s looking over at us, but there’s no way he would’ve heard Gadget over the general cacophony of the pub.
“How did you . . .” I begin but don’t quite finish.
“Mate, I’ve known since that time in the Leicester Comfort Pines. Those walls are paper thin, and Eggs isn’t exactly discreet when he . . . finishes.”
Great, now I’m choking on my spit.
Instantly, Eggo’s by my side, but I lean over to Gadget again. “Who else knows?”
“I think it’s only me and Owen.” Of course he told him. “Oh, and watch your head on the beams,” he says, then he physically shoves me away from him, towards the pub door.
Owen winks at me. I grab Eggo’s arm and, still spluttering on my saliva, drag him outside. It’s nine thirty, but the sun is valiantly clinging onto daylight.
“Gadget knows,” I tell him, looking around the beer garden for people we might recognise. I don’t mention the only reason he figured us out is because of Eggs’s clangourous orgasms. “And Owen Bosley knows too.”
“What did Gadget give you?” he asks. He doesn’t wonder how he found out, or when.
“His house key.”
“Right on,” he hisses, racing across the street and pulling me along with him.
We check that the coast is clear before we unlock his front door and step inside his cottage.
It’s immaculate and smells incredible. There are reed diffusers by the entrance hall and, it appears, in every cranny, and the furniture is tasteful and most likely antique. I want to nosy around, but I also need Eggo to finish what he started at Abs’s place.
I strip off my T-shirt. Eggo closes the curtains in the living room and pulls his shirt off. Seconds later he’s on his knees again, unzipping my fly and dragging my shorts and jocks down to my thighs.
It occurs to me that Eggo must be thinking of this as a goodbye BJ. I need to tell him about Cornwall. Ask him if I’m still welcome.
“Eggs?” I say.
“Mmm?” he replies, wrapping his fist around my cock.
“I’m . . . um . . . I’m coming.”
“Already?” He looks at my dick, then back up to my face. “Man, I’m good at this.”
“No, I’m coming. To Newquay. With you for the off season. If you’ll still have me?”
“Oh my fucking god, are you being serious?” He’s standing now. “Are you really?”
“Yes. Is that okay?”
“Of course that’s fucking okay.” He hugs me so tightly that my feet leave the ground. “Holy shit, we’re gonna have so much fun. This is going to be the best summer ever. Are you . . . I need to fuck you. Are you . . .”
“I expect Gadget will have some stuff we need upstairs.”
Eggo’s already running off.
“Oh, watch your head on those—”
SMACK.
“Beams.”
Eggo fake cries, and holds a spot just above his eye. “My poor beautiful brain.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Nah, fuck it. It’s just a skull. Good job I’m not captain, aye? Pain can wait, I need to bury myself in your ass.” And he’s gone up the stairs.