Page 27 of Pitch Prince

I see it in the way he looks at you,Callum had said. I had to ask. “It’s not me, is it?”

“God no. No. No way. You’re way too fit,” Finn said.

“…thank you?”

“No, I mean…so there’s someone I think, looking back, I liked. And at the time, I was so confused about all this that he passed me by.”

“So you’re telling me you drink and act out because you fancied someone once and didn’t tell them?” I asked. “We’ve all been there, mate. But there’s a time where you have to stop.”

“No, no. I drink…I think I drink because it makes me brave. Drunk Finn tries new things. I’m like…someone else after a drink.”

“That’s not always a good thing, mate.” I gestured for him to sit back down and I put an arm around him.

He leaned into the touch and I did my best not to flinch at the smell of alcohol. “Callum said he won’t tell on you to Wesley, but I don’t know if someone else will. We were all there to get drunk and have a good time, but you took the piss. You pushed the line so far it no longer exists.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologising to. In fact, I don’t think you need to kiss anyone’s arse except for Wesley’s if he finds out. But you need to have a look at yourself. You’re building a reputation for yourself that’ll make things more difficult for you in future.”

“I know, man. I know.” Finn smiled weakly at me. The coffee seemed to have injected just a little bit of life into him. “How was your night? Did you and Callum head back out afterwards?”

I felt the blush creeping up my neck and my ears burned. “Nah. Just a quiet one in.”

“Oh my God, you fancy him don’t you?” Finn smiled and jabbed me on the shoulder when I didn’t reply.

“We came out here to discuss your problems, not mine.” I got up and Finn followed way too quickly as I crossed the golf course.

“Well we can multi-task,” said Finn. “How long have you wanted to fuck the great Callum Anderson?”

“Since I was about fifteen, as did every gay boy who’s ever been into rugby men,” I deflected.

“Sure, sure. Does he know?”

“Of course he doesn’t, he’s straight,” I said. Whatever Finn had confessed to me it wasn’t my place to say what had happened the night before.

“So is spaghetti till it gets wet,” said Finn. Imagining what had happened when Callum and I got wet had my face heating up so quickly that the redness may well have been visible from space. “Oh my God, you really do fancy him. Tough luck man.”

“I know,” I muttered. No use hiding it from Finn. I’d led us back to the little stream that separate the golf course from the hotel. “Finn…just know anything you say to me is sacred, is safe. I’m here for you. And I want you to get better.”

“I’m already better,” said Finn. He leaned in for a hug but then veered away at the last second, and started to throw up right into the picturesque stream.

“Sure thing. Come on, let’s get you breakfast.”

Finn wiped at his mouth with his sleeve and nodded.

The hotel restaurant was full of slightly hungover players from the night before. I nodded at a few in greeting and some of them nodded back. Others regarded Finn warily like he’d personally infected them with alcoholism. We sat down on an empty table for two and ordered from a friendly waitress. Each of us had a Full English piled with everything available on the menu. Grease was a kill or cure for a bad hangover and Finn struggled to get the first few bites down.

I looked up as I heard raised voices on the other side of the room. Steve Ford, one of Callum’s rugby team-mates and one of the few men who could match Finn drink for drink, had stormed in and Callum was following him. “You better watch your back, Steve,” he was saying.

“Is that a threat?” Steve’s voice carried across the restaurant.

“Not a threat,” said Callum calmly. “But you better not put a foot wrong throughout this tour, I swear to God. Those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones and your from what I know about you, your house is made of especially thin fucking glass.”

Steve went pale and pushed past Callum out of the restaurant, apparently no longer interested in his food. Callum scanned the restaurant and his eyes finally settled on us. I felt something ugly and painful coil in my gut at his gaze. He looked furious.

He walked over to us with a stiffness in his gait I’d never seen before. What the fuck had he been arguing with Steve about?

“Come with me,” he said to both of us. “I’m sorry to do this now, but just come with me.”

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