I can’t believe I did it.
Chapter 15
Aiden
Sunday 14th December 2025
The coach rumbles away from Gloucester stadium. No overnight hotel stay since it’s very close to Bath—an hour and a half at most. The game was a disappointing loss, but such is the way with pro rugby. Can’t win them all.
Abs is sitting in the window seat next to me. He immediately pulls his phone out to text Orlando. I peer at the screen, but he angles it away.
“Pervert,” he says, laughing.
“Excuse me, I’m not the one sexting my so called ‘just a friend’ on the bus home from the match.”
“I’m not sexting him.” But his face betrays his words and flushes as red as his hair. Not that he’s bothered anyway, nothing seems to dent his mood this evening.
Even though the Cents lost the game, Abs is currently on a high because Gadget’s in Wales, sorting shit out for the Six Nations squad tryouts, and my good friend here got a solid sixty minutes of pitch time in the number ten jersey.
Now, I’m not saying our loss and Abs being on the pitch are related. I absolutely would never think that about my best bro . . .
I do, however, feel like we’d probably have won if Gadget was playing. Of course, these words will never live to see the light of day.
Abs’s receives another notification. He glances at his phone, still angling the screen away from me. His eyes go wide, but in the dark reflection of the coach’s window I can make out Orlando’s lacy G-string clad junk.
I look away and pray that we’re not driving level with a bus full of nuns. At the same time, my phone buzzes. I check the message. It’s a WhatsApp from Eggo.
What are you doing later? I want to cum all over your ass.
“Holy shit!” I hastily stash my phone back in my pocket.
“What’s that?” Abs abandons his device, tries to peek at mine, but I’m too quick.
“Nothing . . . I just remembered I have something to do tonight.”
“What is it?”
“Oh, uh . . .” I scratch my mo. “Are you seeing Orlando later? You didn’t want to hang out or anything?”
Abs grimaces. “Is that alright? If I go see Lan? I know we talked about meeting up, but . . .”
“But he’s sent you a picture of his testicles, and I no longer matter any more?” I say.
Abs is dumbstruck. “Uh . . . No . . . Um . . .”
“It’s fine. Like I said, I need to do something too.”
As discreetly as I can, I turn to Eggo, who’s sitting two rows behind me on the other side of the coach. He has a window seat, his phone is nowhere to be seen, and he’s chatting animatedly to Snatch and Dan, who’re seated beside him and across the aisle from him. Eggo catches my eye for a microsecond. I almost miss it, but his tongue traces the corner of his lip, so I know he knows I’m still watching him.
I face forward again, and Abs is maniacally grinning at something on his phone. I slip mine out of my pocket and bring up my contacts. Keeping the device close to my chest, I press edit on Eggo’s profile, and I change his name to the first girl’s name I can think of.
Fern.
Also, it’s only two letters different from Finn.
I shoot Abs a glance. He’s preoccupied typing out what appears to be some kind of essay or review to his beloved, so I reply to Fern with only my address.
The fucker has his message ringtone on max volume. I double check mine’s on silent even though it’s been on silent since 2012.
