Page 80 of The Fly-Half

“That’s because Mason is a bossy spoilsport,” he said with a mischievous smile. “If we’re not careful, he’ll start snapping his tongs at us.”

I laughed and rested my head on his chest. “I’m going to miss them, though, when we move out. Even if we still see Mason every day.”

“I’m going to miss them too,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “But I’m excited to have you all to myself.”

“Possessive bastard.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” I said, exhaling slowly. “I really do.” I listened to the beat of his heart and inhaled the scent of him. He’d started using my bodywash and being so close meant my cologne had started clinging to him and everything he owned, so there was a hint of lavender and French vanilla under the warm woodsy smell I’d always associated with him.

We’d found the perfect house to rent, not too far from the training ground and only a few streets over from West and Rory, and I couldn’t wait to get the keys next week. Ryan and Mason were moving too, although their house was closer to the centre of town so Ryan could easily walk to The Court when they needed to. It felt like the end of an era in a way, even if it was the start of something so much greater. A new chapter in our lives, but one that would still be familiar.

We had about four or five weeks to move in and get everything settled, sorted, and maybe even start on decorating before we went back to training for next season. After the high of this year, we were more fired up than ever. Although I wasn’t sure anything would top winning the Six Nations with England, Jonny stood beside me as our captain lifted the trophy. It was one of those moments I knew I’d never forget, but I was determined to make sure it wasn’t the only time we experienced that high.

After all, it was only another year until the World Cup.

And now Jonny had learned to channel his jealousy and possessiveness, he was virtually unstoppable.

“There you are,” Mason said, sticking his head into the kitchen. “Stop canoodling and make yourselves useful!”

“Canoodling? What are you, eighty?” Jonny asked, not letting go of me as a laugh rumbled through his chest.

“We’ll all be fucking eighty before we get any food at this rate if you stand about doing nothing.” Mason jabbed the pair of tongs he’d been holding in our direction. “One of you come and get stuff and the other one put everything on the table. I’ll send West in to help you. Now get your asses moving!”

“You know,” I said as Mason stomped off muttering about us. “If Matty decides to step down at some point, I think Mason would make a great captain. He’s bossy enough.”

“Do you think Matty will?” Jonny asked as he slowly released me.

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on how long his body holds up.” I leant in for another kiss before I started following orders, because otherwise Mason would be back and bossier than ever. “You know, when we’re all moved in, we’ll have to do this again. Get everyone round.”

“I’d like that,” Jonny said. “Although next time everyone can bring something too, save us trying to do everything.”

“Perfect.” I kissed him one last time. For now at least.

I could have more later.

And tomorrow.

And every single day.

Because neither of us was going anywhere. It was going to be the two of us for as long as we lived.

I’d be Jonny’s, and Jonny would be mine.

I still couldn’t believe I was getting everything I’d ever dreamt of, but I wasn’t going to doubt it.

The world was our oyster, and I couldn’t wait for us to walk through it together.

The End