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Bryce laughed again, relieved at being called out and finally being able to be honest with someone other than his and Ava’s families. “The three of us are together.” He slung an arm around Liam’s shoulders and nodded in the direction of Cole and Ava. “So, it’s all good. If you and King are together, you won’t get any judgement from us. We’re stuck hiding too. We call Cole our flatmate, but he’s not. I love him just as much as Ava.”
Cole beamed and Ava’s smiled softly, looking between them. Bryce’s heart filled to bursting, and it took everything in him not to bounce on over to his people and crash-tackle them to the floor to kiss every inch of them.
“It’s not just me and King,” Liam rushed out, the tension lines on his face that Bryce hadn’t even realized were there relaxing. “Addy, King, and I are together. We’re only new, but we’re together.”
Bryce went back to Ava and Cole and picked up his plate where he’d left it, adding, “Just be careful who you’re open with. You always have to be careful. We can’t risk it getting out to the press, especially not in my rookie year. Can you imagine the media shitstorm?”
“How long?” Liam asked, sliding into the chair beside the armchair where Bryce had sat before.
“A year in a few days’ time.” Bryce pressed a kiss to Cole’s temple, and Cole leaned in, wrapping his arm around Bryce’s forearm while he reached for Ava’s hand. It was a simple moment, one filled with intimacy, and Bryce’s heart overflowed. This was what Cole needed.
Bryce nudged him and both Cole and Ava scooted over, making room for him on the tiny two-seater couch. He leaned into his man, loving that he could show him affection in front of someone other than Ava.
“But you’ve made it work. You’re happy,” Liam said, capturing Bryce’s attention again. It was almost as if he was looking for reassurance.
Bryce grinned. The tables had turned—it was the first time he’d been able to advise Liam. It was a nice change, one that he was happy to do if it meant giving him comfort.
“We’ve made it work. There have been a few rocky parts, but we’ve never doubted each other,” Ava confirmed.
It was true, they were rock-solid.
Eighteen
Bryce
T
he January heat was brutal. The first Friday of the year and it had set a record for temps. Even in the air-conditioning in the shopping centre they were hanging around in, it was stifling. It had been like that for three days, and each day they’d gone for a swim after practice, then hotfooted it over to the shops. At least decent movies had been playing, so window shopping, then watching the latest flick was a good way of wiling away a few hours in the middle of the day when it was hottest. Then it was another swim in the afternoon when they could get a spot on the beach, or a few hours at the local pub having a couple of drinks and dinner before they’d rinse and repeat.
Their next renovation would have air-conditioning, and Bryce was determined that they were moving into it.
The chime on his phone alerted him to an email as they were leaving the cinema. He ignored it, too busy dodging the hoard of people that surrounded them. They were moving en masse, bustling from the theatre and spilling onto the main concourse of the mall.
It rang less than five minutes later—while they were lining up for ice cream—and although he didn’t recognize the number, he picked it up. “Y’ello,” he answered. It was probably some telemarketer or spam caller, but on the off chance it was important, he answered.
“Good afternoon, Mr Flaharty—I presume it is Mr Flaharty?” a woman asked him in a no-nonsense tone.
He hesitated. He didn’t want to give out any information in case it was one of those scammers. “How can I help you?”
“My name is Rita Savage from News and Views.” He recognized the name of the online site. They were notorious for trolling their targets, breaking stories that weren’t often supported by truth. But they aimed for viral content and more often than not, got it.
“Right. I’m not interested, thank you.”
He was about to hang up, but her harsh laugh stopped him. He met Ava’s curious gaze and shook his head, dismissing her concerns. “I’ve sent you an email, Mr Flaharty. You should read it and respond. You have until noon on Sunday.”
The line went dead, and Bryce laughed, rolling his eyes. Way to be dramatic. He was right—a spam caller. The whole conversation was an attempt to get something out of him, something he wasn’t prepared to do.
“Who was that?” Ava asked.
“Someone saying they’re a journalist and I needed to read one of their emails and respond by Sunday lunchtime.” He put on a voice that the person—what was her name? Rita something?—had sounded like.
“You aren’t gonna check?” Cole asked with a frown.
“Anything important would have come through my agent. This is that gossip site who makes their shit up and calls it news.”
“Fair enough.” Cole shrugged, but his frown didn’t lift, even while checking out the menu and asking Ava, “What do you feel like?”
“Mango sorbet.”
