Page 18 of Lord of the Lock

“No problem.” I left the scarf loose over my shoulder because of the warmth of the sun. Perhaps I’d have been better off buying a bucket hat like I’d seen so many others wearing.

“Who’s playing today?” I asked.

Finn rolled his eyes. “It’s a summer friendly against Georgia. In theory we should smash them, but the squad…” he looked around like a Welsh player was about to jump out of the crowd and accost him. “The squad isn’t great. Garrett is new to the job and he’s trying for a total refresh, but some of the squad is just that bit too old. We’ve got great legacy players, but we need more of Rhys. More new blood, more stars.”

“They need you,” I said.

Finn blushed and looked down at me. “The last thing they need is a PR disaster with dick-sucking tendencies.”

It was weird to see him insecure, but it was a side I was getting to see more of. “They’d be lucky to have you back,” I said. “You’re one of the best players we’ve ever had.”

“What position did I play?” Finn asked me, a grin playing at the edge of his lips.

Shit.I knew he’d mentioned it, but I’d completely forgotten. “Flanker?”

“You’ve never seen me play, have you?” he asked.

“Never,” I confessed. “I’ve heard you’re very good though. Dad said so after he’d finished moaning about his porridge being too cold.”

Finn laughed. “Well I’m glad he’s a fan.”

Before we reached the big gates and turnstiles that people were pouring through and into the stadium, Finn grabbed my hand and pulled me away. The other hand was on his phone, tapping away rapidly. We walked up to a high cast-iron gate with a ramp that led to a lower level.

“Just have to wait here,” he said.

The crowds passed us by, chattering excitedly about the match. A few recognised Finn and did a double take, and I found myself nominated to take pictures of him with fans. Finn made sure to smile for the camera every time, arms around people easy like they were his own family. So many people complimented him on his games, his playing, even asking when he’d be back to play for Wales again. I was watching his confidence grow by the minute.

We’d been waiting for about five minutes when a group of lads walked past, and one of them muttered loud enough to hear, “there’s the faggot who got exposed sucking cock on the internet…” before passing us by.

I looked up at Finn. His face had dropped and I hated that someone had taken that smile from his face. I found myself doing something I could never have imagined doing.

“Oi!” I shouted at the group of lads. They all turned in unison. Fear and anger were fighting in me. Even though they were all bigger and stronger than I, it was the anger that won. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talking about someone like that?” I had no idea which of the lads had said it, but I focused my anger on the one in the middle.

“Nath…” Finn said behind me as they approached me.

“You better learn to have some fucking respect. I don’t see you and your little beer-belly crew playing for Wales, and I doubt you’d be any good at sucking cock either which means this man already has two achievements under his belt that wankers like you could never hope to match.”

I didn’t know if it was the crowds, Finn at my back or the police all over Westgate Street, but the four men just tipped their heads with muttered apologies and walked away.

I turned to Finn, determined to do anything to bring that smile back to his face. But he was already grinning. “That wasbrilliant,” he said. “It would have been less brilliant if you’d been stabbed, but still. Brilliant.”

I sagged against him, all energy and anger gone. I had never stood up to people like that. It wasn’t in my nature, and life had always taught me that running was the best possible option.

“Well you looked very impressive doing it,” Finn said, squeezing my bicep. “I’m sure you’re already looking more muscular.”

I knew I was blushing. Luckily I was saved by the creak of the big gate swinging open. “Hey,” said Bernie from the other side. “You two ready for the VIP experience?”

11

Chapter Eleven - Finn

The game was going…not great for Wales. But that didn’t matter. Because for the first time in a long time, I was struggling to focus on a game of rugby. Rugby was my religion and the Stadium was my church. But I was way too fucking focused on the beautiful man beside me.

“So they have to pass backwards and if they pass forwards, play gets stopped?” Nathan asked.

I nodded. “How do you not know that? That’s like the most basic law of rugby.”

Nathan grimaced. “I have tried to erase rugby out of my mind. This is fun though.” He was watching the game with his glasses halfway down his nose, tosee better, he’d said.

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