Page 89 of The Fullback
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Bailey
I tooka deep breath as I pushed the faded, creaking door of The Nag’s Head open, shoving my growing fears aside and ignoring the voice in the back of my head that said this was a bad idea.
It was a bit late for bad ideas now. We’d driven all the way here. Besides, I had a stubborn streak, and it had already decided we weren’t leaving until we got some answers.
I didn’t know if Aiden was here, but Jonny had sent us a photo of Bacon along with the pub’s address, so we knew who to ask if we couldn’t find him. The secrecy felt a bit underhanded, but we didn’t want to give Aiden the opportunity to avoid us.
The pub was packed, and there was a football match playing on a large TV at one end of the bar. I could see another room filled with more tables through an archway, and the smell of roast potatoes and gravy was making my mouth water. I hadn’t had a roast dinner in months, so maybe this trip wouldn’t be a total loss if Aiden told us to fuck off.
I could drown my sorrows in potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, and… fuck, they had cauliflower cheese!
Across from the door, there was a small bar almost tucked into the wall, with a few stools in front and at one end. Behind the bar was a round, muscular man with a shaved head and a white T-shirt who was looking at us with an interested smile. And at the end of the bar, slumped on a stool with a pint of cider in front of him, was Aiden.
He looked almost as exhausted as I felt, his hair askew and dark circles under his eyes, but as he saw us, his face split into a wide smile.
“There he is,” Hunter said, relief evident in his voice. He’d been nervous since we’d walked off the pitch last night, spending the whole night crocheting furiously and waking up well before me. He’d had to drive because my ankle was still sore and slightly swollen, and every time we’d stopped at traffic lights I’d noticed him tapping furiously on the rim of the steering wheel.
We wound our way through the crowds over to the bar, and I realised a few people were watching us. We were new here, strangers to their pub, and they were waiting to see what we did.
“All right, lads?” Bacon asked as we approached, catching us before we had a chance to get to Aiden. “What can I get you? Apart from a table so you two can talk to this moping bellend in peace.”
“Fuck off, Bacon,” Aiden said.
“What? It’s the bloody truth. You’ve been a miserable wanker for ten days. This is what you get. Be grateful I’m not telling them about the time you drank three bottles of VK Blue and tried to do the worm.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Aiden muttered, cheeks flushing as he glared at his best friend, who seemed to be having the time of his life.
“Yeah, yeah, go and sit at table two and shut the hell up,” Bacon said, waving a bar rag at him. “I’ll send your men over in a minute. Do you want chicken, beef, or pork?”
“Er, pork?”
Bacon made a note on a small order pad. “Good, now sod off.”
Aiden slid off his stool and picked up his pint. He smiled at us, trying to linger for a second. “It’s good to see you?—”
“Oi,” Bacon said, cutting him off and pointing at a table in the corner. “Move your fucking arse, Eggs. You can talk to them in a minute.”
I watched him go, suddenly worried we were about to be threatened by the hulking man behind the bar. I didn’t really fancy getting into a fight or being kicked out of the pub. Not before we got to talk to Aiden.
Bacon kept his eyes fixed on Aiden until he’d sat down. Then he turned to us and smiled. “What can I get you? And I take it you’d like lunch too?”
“Er, yeah, if that’s okay?” I asked. I glanced over at Hunter, who nodded. He wasn’t the biggest fan of eating in public, outside of the team canteen, but the table we’d been offered was tucked away. And if we were talking, he probably wouldn’t notice we were eating.
“Of course. I’m sorry about Eggs by the way. I know he’s been avoiding you.” He looked us up and down. “I’m guessing you’ve come to tell him how you feel, and that all his fears about you not wanting him aren’t true?”
There was the threat. It was subtler than I’d imagined, but no less real. Bacon was guarding Aiden, making sure our intentions were good. That we weren’t about to break his best friend’s heart in the middle of his pub. It was oddly sweet and I almost wanted to thank Bacon for caring so much.
“Pretty much,” Hunter said. “We know he’s busy, we know he likes his own space, but we also know he’s…”
He trailed off and Bacon nodded, picking up his thought. “Likely to do a runner because he’s allergic to his feelings? Sounds about right.”
“Something like that. We want to know where we stand and let him know we want to give this a shot,” I said. I glanced over at Aiden, who was watching us and looking distinctly unimpressed.
“Better go sit down then. But first, drinks. And let me know what you want for food. You can have chicken, beef, or pork. There’s a veggie option too. All comes with roasties, Yorkshires, veg, cauliflower cheese, and gravy.”
We got some beers, ordered lunch—beef for me, chicken for Hunter—and finally managed to escape across to the table where Aiden was waiting.
