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He was right. And they did go—Lacy scored a beauty in the pocket and, predictably, ran at the opposition fans, thumped his chest, held his ear to listen to the boos—and it was on. The few home fans turned and laid into the rival fans hurling abuse at Lacy.
“We’re going to need security, southern end…” Alison clicked on her microphone, recited the script and they watched as two security guards intervened.
She leaned back and met Joq’s eyes. He nodded. Simo gave her a wild double thumbs up and she laughed.
“That’s about as exciting as it gets,” Cameron said.
Joq snorted.
One point in it and Finn scored another goal because of course he did. Hat trick on his first game.
Joq felt his phone buzz as he was leaving for the night.
Gonna be late. Don’t wait up.
Joq unlocked his car, got in, and reminded himself of his rationalisation the whole drive home.
11
The bed dipped as George got in and Joq groaned.
“Shh, shh,” George said and kissed his nape. He smelled like whiskey and cigar smoke. “Go back to sleep.”
Joq’s eyes slipped shut and he went back to sleep.
When he got up early the following morning, George was dead to the world, covers kicked off, black boxers stretching over his firm ass, his broad back rising and falling with his loud breathing.
Joq went for the shower. He had an early meeting with the crew, then a late lunch on a rooftop bar with some buddies from uni. George could do… whatever George was going to do. Doing. Joq shook his head and stepped under the spray.
The lunch had been good. Really good. The twinge of disappointment Joq felt whenever he saw his old friends and one of them, inevitably, asked if he regretted turning down the offer from the Navy, the career path that would’ve taken him to covert ops and a pretty interesting life, barely registered anymore. He was fine with his choice, and besides, shortly after he’d moved in with George and the rest was a good history.
He pulled up to the gate full of tapas and buzzed on a few beers. The gate whirred to life and rolled aside slowly. George’s car came into view, the late afternoon sun reflecting off the black paint and shining in his eyes. Joq smiled, drove in, parked behind him, got out, jogged up the steps and opened the front door.
The sound of pool water splashing made Joq grin. He kicked off his shoes, headed down the hall when he heard George’s laughter—loud and quickly followed by him shouting: “I’ll get you for that!” and the shriek of an answering laugh. Joq stuttered in his step.
He could see them from the kitchen through the glass windows. George was dunking Finn in a playful headlock. Finn came up and spluttered around his laughter, his eyes blinking away the water and looking up at George grinning back at him.
Joq’s first thought was: this is completely inappropriate. The Head Coach cavorting alone with a rookie in his home? But as he watched Finn launch himself onto George’s shoulders and use that incredible strength to push him under, the water rushing over his taut muscles and glistening in the sun, he remembered his own stupid offer. He’d gone and offered a safe fucking space. From that point of view, this was exactly what he’d invited—somewhere for Finn to come and feel welcomed, feel okay.
Joq went to the door and paused on the threshold. Finn saw him first and in that split second, Joq saw fear flash in his eyes before he leapt away from George and swam back. George spun around and looked at Joq.
“Hey,” George said around a familiar smile. “Where you been?”
“Lunch,” Joq replied.
“Hi, Joq,” Finn said and Joq looked at him as he swam over to the edge of the pool. He was smiling now, the lazy one, like the moment before had all been in Joq’s head.
“Finn,” Joq nodded and forced a smile. “Good night?”
Finn laughed, his eyes on George. “It would’ve been, if this one didn’t make me go home.”
“Hey now, rook. We’re one game in. Gotta save it for the finals,” George swam over to him as he spoke, splashed him.
Finn was meeting him and Joq watched as another wrestling match ensued. On the face of it, it was nothing. Typical fooling around in the pool between guys. It’s not like they were touching each other in a sexual way—George was planting his big palms on Finn’s shoulders and pushing playfully, while Finn was clearly using his legs under the water to try and drag George under, his laughter getting caught in the water as he lost.
Joq shook his head, smiled at them and went inside to get a beer. He felt awkward. Should he join them? As he listened to their fooling around wind down to swimming and quiet chatter, he thought maybe not. He sipped his beer and thought about dinner. He’d defrosted fish for him and George. But now Finn was probably going to stay.
Fuck it, he thought as he drank his beer. If George was going to start inviting Finn over, he could bloody well cook for him.
