Maybe I’ve loved him for a while.
“Harry!” Lionel says after everyone’s had their moment congratulating me. Oh, so now he remembers my name. “Your mum’s been giving me a crash course in rugby, and I have to say, you were phenomenal.”
I pretend to flip my hair over my shoulder. Lando laughs. Casper punches my arm. “Thanks. I won player of the match, in case you didn’t already knowthat.” I’m being a cocky little shit, but I realise . . . I don’t care what Lionel thinks of me any more.
He giggles, but it sounds affected and his eyes don’t crinkle. He places a hand on my bicep and alarm bells start ringing in my head.
I shoot Lando a look. A raised eyebrow and a silent question I hope he understands. “Is he flirting with me?”
Lando’s fingers rest under his chin, he slow blinks and nods once. So that’s a yes, then. Lionel is flirting with me.
“Where’s Toby?” I ask.
“Oh, um . . .” Mum says, trying way too late to stop me from putting my foot in my mouth, but how was I supposed to know?
“We’re . . . not together any more,” Lionel says.
“Okay.” What else do I say? Do I want to be the rebound guy? “I mean, shit. Sorry to hear that.”
I look once again at Lando, who hastily averts his eyes from mine, his fingers plastered over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. “So . . .” I say to the group at large. “Who wants to buy me a drink?”
“You’re such a dick,” Lando says to me a little while later at the bar.
Everyone is still here, and we’re only halfway through our second round. Lando’s drinking white wine, but the rest of us, including Mum, are on the Guinness. Dad let Casper have a sip of his, but Casper, being the brat he is, tried to split the G. He’s been in the bathroom since then.
“Why would you say such an awful thing to moi? What have I done?” I tease.
“So, you’re over Lionel?”
Even though Lando might be right, the question still makes my stomach flip uncomfortably. I shrug. I’m pretty sure I know the real reason I was being a twat to Lionel, but I can’t tell Lando why—can never, ever admit that to him.
“Are you still worried you’re not good enough for him? That he’ll think you’re just a kid?” he asks.
I know a lifeline when I’m presented with one. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Lando nods. After a while he says, “Fine, okay. You can practise BJs on me.”
My elbow slips off the bar top behind me, and I slosh Guinness all over my trousers. “Um . . . what? But you don’t . . . You can’t . . .”
“I could for you, my love,” he says. His smirk tells me he’s loving every second of this. “Listen, do you want to go into a relationship with a new guy not knowing how to give decent head?”
“No. Fuck, no.”
“Well, come on, then. Class is in session.” Lando plucks the drink from my hand and places it on the bar.
“Now?!” I say, glancing wildly around at my family and teammates and their families.
Nobody has spared us a second look all evening. Nobody would notice if we slipped out. Nobody except . . . Lionel, who’s doing a decent job of watching Lando and me whilst pretending not to.
“Okay,” I say, my breath hitching, pulse spiking.
Lando pushes me towards the bathrooms. “I’ll go first. You watch and learn. Then later, not here, though, you can try it out on me.”
“But will you . . . come?” I ask.
“If you’re any good.”
I slap myself in the face. That’ll be a no, then.
