“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” I said, putting my hand on Bailey’s shoulder. Now wasn’t the time for him to get wound up.
“Danny, don’t be a brat,” Devon said. There was something about the way he said it that made Danny clamp his mouth shut. An implied layer of threat.
“They could still say please,” Danny said but there was no heat in it. “Also, maybe they could consider that we’re happy for them and have been waiting for them to get their act together for a while.”
“They’re sat right here,” I said pointedly. My hand was still on Bailey’s shoulder, and he’d folded his arms across his chest. I tried not to stare at the way it made his pecs look. “And also, it’s not that simple, soifwe ever have something to say about our dating life, we’ll say it. Until then, mind your own beeswax, you nosy git.”
Danny grinned, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by Charlie. “What are you all doing the Friday of our next weekend off? I think it’s the, er, twenty-third? Amanda’s trying to organise an engagement party, and she wants you all there. Dressed nicely.”
“Mate, I always dress nicely,” Danny said with outrage.
“Sorry, that means proper shoes. Not trainers.”
There was a collective groan, apart from Devon, who was radiating excitement. He’d been taught to dress well during his years playing in the south of France, and it had stuck. “Is there a theme?” Devon asked, leaning forward with delight. “Colour scheme? How nicely are we talking here? Actual nice or rugby player nice?”
I shot Bailey a smile as the conversation moved on from us to Devon bickering with Danny and Charlie.
Jonny’s words were still playing in the back of my head.
If we were lucky, Aiden would be at our flat when we got home after training. Then we could talk.
And hopefully convince him just how much we needed him.
