‘Didn’t realize you were such a big classical music guy.’
‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’
‘Wait a minute, is this a girl thing?’ A flicker of interest crosses his face when I flinch. ‘It is! Go on then, tell me everything. Who is it? Hot cellist? Sexy saxophonist?’
‘I’m not trying to fuck any of the girls in the orchestra,’ I tell him. ‘This guy, Bryn, he’s playing with them. He’s friends with my roommate—’
‘So it’s a guy thing? Are you coming out to me?’
‘I’m not trying to fuck Bryn either.’ I shake my head, smiling. ‘But I could do worse, he’s pretty good-looking. I’m going with my roommate, Mia.’
He pulls his head back in a long, slow nod, dick still swinging in the wind.
‘Going with your roommate, I see.’ Then the corner of his mouth crooks upwards. ‘Isshehot?’
‘Yes.’
The same answer comes from Cieran, Josh and one of theRiches all at the same time and a knife of jealousy cuts me to the bone. Bouncing my wash bag from hand to hand, I make a non-committal noise in the back of my throat.
‘I told Mia I would be there, so I’m going to be there. And I like classical music so there’s that. Any other questions?’
‘You still haven’t answered the first one,’ he replies. ‘Is she hot?’
I baulk because I really don’t want to answer, and the moment of hesitation is all he needs.
‘Oh, Ethan, pal.’ Assad presses his hands to his chest, head to one side. ‘Will we all be invited to the wedding?’
‘You’re braver than me,’ Josh crows across the locker room. ‘I never shit where I eat.’
It’s gross but I’ve said worse. A bunch of men showering after sports are rarely considered amongst the world’s leading forward thinkers. Individually, I’ve had incredible conversations with some of my teammates over the years, taken on whole new perspectives from different walks of life I couldn’t possibly have experienced otherwise. But together, as one big sweaty mass, truly some of the worst people on the planet. And I still love them.
‘As co-captain, it is my duty to warn you, shagging your roommate could get messy,’ Assad says with genuine concern while Josh attempts to get into his locker without touching his bare ass. ‘Especially this early into the term. You’re sure you wouldn’t rather save it for an end of year treat?’
‘It’s not like that.’
I’m gruff and unimpressed and I really need to get into the shower. I have to eat before the show or my stomach will be louder than any damn instrument on the stage. Tossing my shorts in the laundry box, I grab a towel, shampoo in hand, and head for the showers. Only for Assad to follow, his eyes lit up.
‘Didn’t you go to the same uni at home?’ he asks.
Stepping under the shower head, I turn on the water, letting the first frigid blast wake me up.
‘Sure did.’
‘Isn’t that a bit like going on holiday to Spain and ordering chicken and chips at the British pub? Shouldn’t you be sampling local delicacies?’
‘Chicken and chips sounds good to me.’
He holds his hand under the water then snatches it back when he feels the temperature.
‘Oh dear, he’s done for. It’s true love then?’
‘Hey, before I forget,’ I say, changing the subject. ‘Has Clive said anything to you about the Harchester scouts?’
‘Not a word.’
Turning off the shower, I move back to my locker, slides slapping against the wet tile floor, towel wrapped around my waist. It’s impossible to get dressed fast enough in this place. I have no idea why it’s so cold – Hemden’s training facilities are state of the art, nicer than a lot of top-tier clubs from what I hear, mostly thanks to some generous donations from former students who went pro. Could be Clive trying to keep electricity costs down, but more likely he thinks it’s fun to make us suffer.
‘Most likely, he won’t tell us at all,’ Assad says with a frown as I pull a pair of old Abercrombie jeans and a blue henley sweater over still damp skin. ‘I’ve heard some coaches do that, so you don’t get distracted or too in your head, and it’s not like he’s the chattiest man on the planet, is it?’
