Okay, tell me now. What has Gadget done that had you gossiping in the dark with Eggo? Do you hate him as much as I do yet?
Chapter 13
Aiden
Sunday 30th November 2025
The match against Leicester is gruelling and messy, but so much fun. Eggo played for just over an hour before they benched him, and I played the full eighty minutes. Even Abs gotsome decent pitch time via a dodgy landing from Gadget and a suspected overworked hamstring.
I score the final try, and we end on 23–32 in favour of the Cents.
We go for our ice baths, and then showers, and I avoid looking at Eggo’s naked body. Or more specifically, I avoid getting caught looking at his naked body. It’s exquisite, though. He’s the tallest guy on the team and one of the broadest, and his chest and belly are as hairy as his face. It’s almost impossible not to look at him, because he takes up so much space, but I won’t. I won’t do it. Or it’ll send my mind racing again.
We dress in our game-day suits, and some players call home. Wives, fiancées, partners, kids, and in Abs’s case, his “still not quite boyfriend despite what everyone labels them as.”
Eggo video calls Logan and Jody, and then Megan, and I pace the hall outside the locker room.
I have no one to call. Not strictly true. There’s actually no one Iwantto call. I no longer have a girlfriend. Lyla and I broke up two weeks ago, though neither of us seems remotely upset by it, and I can’t call my family. It’s already Monday in Perth, about two thirty in the morning, and even if it wasn’t, I still wouldn’t want to speak to any of them.
Instead, I use this time to research the menu for Sixteen Barrels, the fancy-ass eatery Eksteen has booked for us all tonight.
It’s à la carte, which gives me instant fear, but having read each item a minimum of fifteen times, I think I’ll opt for Asian spiced duck leg, halibut acqua pazza, and hazelnut parfait. Obviously, before we head to the restaurant, I’m gonna need to google each thing a couple more times, ask the wait staff for clarification,andselect a plan B and plan C in case any of my options are out.
The coach drops us outside Sixteen Barrels and makes its way to the hotel. Our driver’s done for the night. We’ll get taxis and Ubers back to our rooms from wherever we end up after the celebrations are over.
Finn Eggington might be a scruffy bastard sometimes, but in his jazzy suit and tie, he’s a fucking vision. His fit must be tailor made because there’s no way he’s popping into John Lewis and picking up slacks with a seven-hundred-inch inseam.
“Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” the waitress asks. She’s wearing a black pencil dress with no name tag. Apparently, this place is too posh for name tags.
“Oh, uh . . .” Eggo says, opening the leather wallet on the table. “I haven’t even looked at the menu yet.”
“We’re ordering from the à la carte bit,” Abs says, leaning over me to flip it to the right page for him.
“I have a few questions about the menu, please,” I say, raising my hand like I’m in class again.
“The men I please are none of your business,” Eggo says without looking up. Everyone laughs. Under the table I knock my shoe against his.
As soon as I’ve finished grilling the waitress, he looks up and says, “King prawns for starters and the pork belly with apple jollop for mains, please. Are we ordering pudding now or after we’ve eaten?”
The waitress nods, remembering everything without writing it down, which for a table of thirty-plus guys selecting starters, mains, and a whole heap of sides, is fucking impressive. “You can order dessert after you’ve finished the main course,” she says, smiling and collecting up all the menus.
“She’s cute. Pi, get in there,” Snatch says once the waitress leaves.
Of course he’s saying it to me. I’m one of a tiny margin of single guys left on the team. And ordinarily, yeah, I might’veasked her what time she got off and if she fancied coming to the bar with us later.
I look over at Eggo, who’s busying himself by tucking his napkin into his collar like a cartoon character readying themselves for a lobster dinner.
“No way are you wearing your serviette like a fucking bib,” Snatch yells.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Hopefully they’re done trying to persuade me to ask her out.
“Haven’t you ever seen him eat? He’s a pig,” Dan calls out from the middle of the table.
Eggo flips him off.
“Pi, mate, you’re in the splash zone there,” Abs says.
“Is there anything you won’t smash into your face?” Snatch asks.
