“You’re a fucking menace, Ledford,” Bailey said. “I feel sorry for your boyfriend being stuck with your bratty arse.”
“Trust me, you don’t need to worry.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “And that’s all we need to know about your sex life.”
“Why? Does it bother you?” Mason asked.
“Yes. But mostly because I don’t want to think about any of your sex lives,” I said, nodding my head vaguely at the whole room. We were close, but notthatclose, and I didn’t need to know what any of them liked in bed. We’d already gotten enough hints from Devon about what he and Jonny got up to considering how often he came in with hickeys all over his inner thighs.
And considering Bailey and I had banged Jonny’s little brother, I didn’t even want to think about any potential similarities. That was gross.
“Aww, rude,” Mason said. “Why not? You see us naked enough.”
“Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” I asked, looking around for West, our first-choice hooker and Mason’s best friend. “West, come get your prop. He’s being a dickhead.”
“Why? What’s he doing?” West asked as he glanced up from where he was lacing his boots. He’d been the first player on the Knights to be openly queer, coming out as bisexual several years ago. He’d never really made a big deal out of it and never wanted to talk much about it in the press, but he’d also never shied away from it.
He’d been very solid and stoic about the whole thing, which was kind of West to a tee. I didn’t know if he knew how much impact he’d had by quietly but publicly being bi, but it wasprobably more than he realised. Although recently he’d been more open about it, posting more about his fiancé—who was a local drag artist—and even doing some interviews with a couple of social platforms and newspapers.
I’d never come out to the team as bi, but West was part of the reason I’d always felt safe here. He’d helped forge the welcoming environment I’d never experienced anywhere else and didn’t know if I ever would. The Knights were unique, and we were all very protective of that. It was part of the reason Bailey and I never wanted to move clubs. And I was pretty sure we weren’t the only ones who felt that way.
“Being a wanker,” Bailey said as he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on.
“And? Tell me something new.”
“Oi, I heard that,” Mason said, flipping West off playfully. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do. That’s how I know you’re a wanker.”
“Who’s a wanker?” Devon asked, appearing from behind Mason with a curious smile on his face. The fly-half was holding a half-eaten banana, one earbud in his ear and his boots laced tightly with rainbow laces.
“Me,” Mason said. “Because Hunter doesn’t want to see me naked.”
Devon snorted. “Only Ryan wants to do that.”
“You think I’m sexy too. I definitely have the best tits out of everyone in this room.” He folded his arms across his impressive chest to emphasise his point.
“God, you’re such a needy bottom,” Devon muttered.
“Pot kettle black,” Mason said, shooting the fly-half a pointed look.
I bit my lip and glanced at Bailey, wondering whether to interrupt them or not. I decided against it because there was no way in hell I wanted to risk Devon figuring out things about methat I was only just working out for myself. I didn’t think he had special queer powers but he was perceptive as fuck.
Except about himself, but who was, really?
“By the way,” Mason said, louder this time. “Ryan messaged to say he and Rory had found Aiden. They’re all sitting together.”
“Perfect,” Devon said. He kept talking, saying something about hoping they had fun and us putting on a good show. But I was staring at Bailey, both of us straining to keep the shock off our faces.
Aiden was here.
He’d mentioned trying to come up for it. Several times actually. But he’d never confirmed anything.
Not that he had to. I mean, it wasn’t like we all talked a lot. Maybe once a week. Or every couple of weeks if we were busy. And it wasn’t ever anything serious.
The conversations pretty much always followed the same pattern: one of us would send something to the group chat—either a picture or a vague message—there’d be some brief pleasantries, and then we’d have hot-as-fuck phone sex.
Once or twice we’d all chatted about other stuff, mostly training or work, and Aiden had sent us some cute pictures of him at Leicester Pride, but it was never deep.
