Page 21 of The Fly-Half

“Can I join you?” He hefted the tray. “I could do with some company while I make my way through all this.”

“Sure, Devon and I are just at the back there.” I gestured in the direction of our regular table. Usually I preferred it if Devon and I were alone, but with the way I was feeling, I needed a distraction.

“Cool, see you in a minute,” he said, shooting me a warm smile before he walked towards our table near the window. I turned and headed towards the serving counter where Devon had already finished loading his tray up with a mountain of carbs and half a dozen Lincolnshire sausages. But I did see he’d slotted a small bowl of fruit salad onto the corner, and I smiled.

“See,” he said when he spotted me, lifting the tray under my nose with a sweet expression that made the bottom drop out of my stomach. “I got some fruit.”

Gods above, he shouldn’t look so endearing like this. Like he wanted my approval. It made me feel like I’d stepped off one of those fairground rides that spun you around so fast the force pinned you to the sides—nauseous but pumped full of adrenaline. I didn’t want the feeling to fade, but I didn’t know how to keep it going either.

“Well done,” I said with a nod. “Not sure it’s enough with all the rest of it.”

“Oh please, I’ll be fine.”

“You already said today was gonna be hell.”

“Yeah, it will be but at least I’ve got sausages.” He smiled and pain shot through my chest. I wanted him to be happy, morethan anything in the fucking world. But the thought of not being the one making him smile was agonising.

I couldn’t make him happy, though, could I? I wasn’t what he needed.

Devon frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah just… now I’ve stood up I’ve realised how hungry I am.”

“Get something to eat then,” he said fondly, nudging me with his elbow. “Did I see West’s joining us?”

“Yeah… wants some company while he fills up. He’s gotta eat about three breakfasts.”

“Cool! Sounds good.” He walked away and I had to physically wrench my gaze away to stop myself from staring at him. I felt utterly miserable as I grabbed a tray and a plate and began to help myself to food, barely glancing at what I was picking up.

I knew it was all going to taste the same anyway, so why bother putting any effort into choosing?

By the time I got back to the table, West and Devon were already chatting away as West polished off his bowl of porridge. I assumed he’d eaten it first because cold porridge was rank and it was only then I realised I’d picked some up too and drenched it with golden syrup, bits of strawberry studding the surface.

I grabbed my spoon and swirled it around, the steam flooding my senses with sweetness, which just about covered the overwhelming smell of ketchup and brown sauce from beside me where Devon had covered his sausages and potato, chorizo, and spinach hash in enough of the stuff to float a small dinghy. He’d already eaten his fruit, but any thoughts I had of mentioning it evaporated when I realised what the two of them were talking about.

“Oh, I know where you mean,” West said. “Rory and I had our first date there.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” I muttered under my breath, because I distinctly remembered West going out for a drink and bringing Rory back to our house and railing him very loudly while Mason, our ex-housemate Guy, and I playedCall of Duty.

West flushed slightly. “We had a drink first.”

“The cocktails are good,” Devon said, either not noticing West’s embarrassment or giving him a way out. “They were doing a two-for-one deal. That’s probably what caused it.” He scrubbed his face again and I realised his olive skin had a sickly, pale tint to it. “They were better than the wine at least.”

“Sounds like you had fun,” West said as he reached for his omelette, a little smile playing across his lips that I didn’t like the look of. “Peaches is great, right?”

“Yeah,” Devon said with a nod as he looked down at his plate, lost in thought. “I don’t know if it’ll go anywhere, but we had fun. I’m paying for it now, though.”

“Did you kiss him?” I asked, growling out the question like I’d been chewing gravel. It sounded like I was interrogating him, but all I could think about was Peaches’s mouth on Devon’s, kissing him deeply. I really wanted it to have been bad. Like kissing a wet fish. But I’d seen Peaches and he looked like the sort of man who kissed like a fucking god.

Devon’s head snapped towards me, his smile evaporating and a deep frown of annoyance settling onto his features. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. You can shag whoever you want.”

“Then why are you asking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kill someone.”

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