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“Sorry, I just can’t be assed giving you a lift,” Joq lied.
He knew George knew it was a lie and appreciated the way he nodded, too eagerly. “All good, you deserve a night off.”
Joq smiled and leaned in for another kiss. George met him, but he pulled back first and stepped away, shouldered his bag.
“Call you when I get there,” he said again.
“Yep,” Joq shoved his hands in his pockets.
George nodded, turned and let the door fall shut quietly behind him as he left.
“Yep,” Joq breathed out again to no one.
The team did take Brisbane, and Joq smiled when he thought about how they did it without Finn. He caught that thought and told himself to stop it. Having a hate-on for the kid wasn’t going to help. And besides, Finn was just too young to stay mad at. Poor kid was probably going through his first real crush.
He was back training with the team, taking it easy under concussion protocol, but back in the room, as Joq could see in high definition in that moment while he went through the job with Cameron’s replacement. Sue. An older woman, ex-navy, she wanted something less demanding so she could “Spend time with the grandkids.”
Joq liked the military air she gave off and the fact she detested the team. It made him laugh. She was a die-hard supporter of their biggest rival, but she said she could remain professional about it. This also made him laugh.
“I’m sure,” he said and ran through the monitors, explained the importance of ensuring all cameras were recording at all times in case something happened and management or the authorities needed it.
“Of course,” Sue said. She said it like, ’No shit.’
Joq suppressed his smile and leaned back, folded his arms over his chest and left her to it. Simo was helpfully pointing things out while Sue looked at him like she couldn’t quite believe he was real; his liquorice strap hanging out of his mouth, his skinny body taking up more space than it reasonably should as he gestured and spoke around his teeth caked with black candy.
“Ugh, Creed,” Sue said as George appeared on the monitors in the locker room.
“Creed’s the fucking shit!” Simo said.
“Over-rated.”
Simo spluttered. “Over-rated! Did you see the 2016 Grand Final? That was all him, baby. All him.”
Sue snorted. “You won that by default. They lost, you didn’t win-it, win-it.”
“Oh my God,” Simo started and Joq tuned them out. He’d heard this argument. And he hated to concede that, yeah, they kind of had taken full advantage of the opposition completely choking on the big stage. Still, George had played the game of his life, kicking seven beautiful goals. Joq could still see the image of him in his mind when he jogged up and took the Norm Smith for best player on ground—his brown hair long and wavy in the breeze, his modest smile—he’d deserved it regardless of whatever else happened in that game. He’d been on fire, a true legend coming of age.
He was on the monitor now, moving around his players, speaking to each one individually, his notes forgotten by his side.
Joq tensed as he watched him approach Finn in front of his stall. Finn had been having a friendly shoving match with Lacy, but he straightened as George came over. Lacy got up, flicked Finn in the head with his towel; Finn batted it away with a laugh, but George said something to Lacy which had him raising his hands and then clearly apologising to Finn.
Other than that, the interaction between George and Finn seemed carefully professional. Too careful? Joq rubbed his jaw as he watched. No, he focused on Finn, on his Bambi fucking eyes looking up at George, the hint of a questioning smile on his face while George spoke. No, it was George who was all business, his face blank as he said something more and then walked off. Finn looked hurt as he watched George’s back.
Joq swallowed. Well, alright then. Alright.
That night when George came home and found Joq in his office and kissed him hello, Joq felt something sincere in it, something like before.
“Hi,” he said as he smiled up at him.
“Wanna go out for dinner?” George asked.
“Yeah, sounds good. Just gotta finish some tax stuff.”
“Take your time,” George said as he went out, smiled over his shoulder.
And, alright then. Joq felt like he could breathe again. This was normal. This was good.
21
