Page 20 of The Fly-Half

“You haven’t eaten?” He looked surprised. “Why not?”

“Because I was waiting for you,” I said quietly. It sounded ridiculous now I was saying it out loud, but I couldn’t take it back and I wasn’t going to lie to him. “We always have breakfast together.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” The easy grin had been replaced by guilt hanging heavy on his handsome features. It made my stomach bubble uneasily. I didn’t want Devon to feel guilty, but I didn’t know how to undo it. “I should have gotten up when the alarm went off. I remember swiping my phone but then I rolled over and next thing I knew…” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Today is going to be hell. And I deserve it.”

“What the fuck did you do?” I asked as twin emotions flared in my chest. I wanted to be annoyed at him, and I still was, but I also hated seeing him suffering and I wanted to feed him sausages, strong tea, and paracetamol until he felt better. I’d never been the world’s best nurse when people were sick, but hungover was different. I didn’t necessarily need to be sympathetic.

“Nothing!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you got hungover from drinking water and having an early night. Fuck’s sake, Devon, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m assuming it was from your date with Peaches?”

“It wasn’t a date,” he said. “Not really.”

Another flare in my chest. I’d promised myself I was going to be supportive, but now the moment was here, I was struggling. “Did you have fun at least?”

“Yeah, it was good.” He sounded surprised, but I didn’t know why. Had he not been expecting it to go well? If so, why had he gone at all? Had he only been telling me it was a date because it was easier than telling me it was a hook-up? But we’d alwaysbeen open with each other about that shit, so why would Devon stop now?

My head was reeling as much as my stomach and nothing seemed to make sense. I knew there was a logical answer here, but for some reason I was struggling to find it through the haze of my emotions.

“Where did you go?”

“Bisou,” Devon said as his eyes drifted over to the serving counter. I could practically see him drooling onto the table. “It’s just at the bottom of Steep Hill… Do you want to get some food? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, sure.” I couldn’t tell him no even if the churning in my stomach had slightly dulled my hunger. But I was enough of a professional athlete to know I needed to eat even if I wasn’t feeling it, especially the day before a match when I needed to preload.

Rugby union was a physically brutal sport where we’d all be putting our bodies through the wringer for up to eighty minutes. And I respected my body, which meant giving it what it needed and taking care of myself. At the end of the day, this was my job and my body was my equipment, and run-down equipment meant I ran the risk of doing a shit job. And I owed my team better than that.

We played together, we won together, we lost together, simple as. Which meant I had to do everything in my power to make sure it was the former, not the latter.

“Make sure you have water as well as coffee,” I added as we stood. “And plenty of carbs. Get some fruit too. That’ll be good for you.”

Devon’s cheeky grin returned and he fucking winked at me. “Yes, sir.”

He walked away leaving me standing in the middle of the dining room with my mouth half-open. What the fuck had gotteninto him? First, he was late and hungover, then he was acting giddy as fuck, then he’d been vague, and now he was winking at me.

Shit. Did this mean he and Peaches had fucked?

Was this some sort of morning-after high?

I hadn’t been around Devon post hook-up for a while and I couldn’t remember what he was usually like. I knew I had seen him the morning after before, but the memories refused to come to me, like my brain had forgotten where it had put them or the drawer they were in was rusted shut. It seemed like the most logical explanation, though: they’d gone out, gotten drunk, had sex, and then Devon had gone home to pass out, waking up late, hungover… and happy.

When was the last time he’d been this happy?

My brain stalled, glitching and spluttering like an old van engine coughing out grey smoke as I tried turning it over again and again. Devon being happy was everything to me, so why did I hate the idea of someone else making him feel that way? He might have been my best friend, but I’d never been against him having relationships in the past.

What was it about the idea of him being with Peaches that made me want to break something?

“You all right, Jonny?” West asked, appearing beside me with a tray heaving with food, including a huge bowl of porridge, a filled omelette, and a stack of thick-cut French toast covered in syrup and blueberries. Nobody calorie loaded like the front row, whose entire job was being big as brick shithouses, strong enough to lift a cart horse, and fit enough to keep going for an entire match without stopping.

“Yeah,” I said with a swallow, trying to ignore how dry my throat was. “Why?”

“You’re stood in the middle of the dining room staring into space with your mouth open.” He raised an eyebrow and smiledwryly. “Didn’t think you were considering a career change to flytrap.”

That made me laugh and I chuckled. “Shut up.”

“Eh, you laughed. You eaten yet?”

“No, I was just going to get something.”

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