Page 10 of Blurred Boundaries

“Whoa,” he laughs. “Nothing of the sort. My friend is coming here tomorrow from London with his boyfriend, and they need to lay low because they’ve been in the news. So,” he gives the Mercedes a pointed look, “do you have a car that’s not this extravagant, or can we rent one?”

I ignore the insult to the car and grab hold of the interesting bit instead. “Is this friend of yours perhaps a footballer?”

He frowns at me. “You follow sports?”

I try to look offended, but I probably look dopey because I can’t stop a small smile from spreading across my face. “You think I can’t understand football because I’m gay?”

“What? No!” he exclaims loudly. “I’m sorry if that’s how it came across.”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you,” I chuckle. “So, the news is true then? Roland Johnson and Austin Coker are a thing?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How did you connect the dots?”

“I was actually talking out of my arse, I didn’t connect any dot.” I chuckle. “But Johnson is my favourite footballer, and he’s the only one currently in the news for having a boyfriend.”

He lets out a long sigh and sinks back into the leather seat. “No one can know they’re here.”

“I’ll take it to my grave,” I nod at once. “And yeah, I can bring a less conspicuous car. My cousin drives a Camry.”

“And they’ll lend you their car without asking why you need it?” he asks, sounding unconvinced.

“Oh, he’s in America with the rest of his family.” I tap the steering wheel. “This car belongs to his mum, my aunt. I’m house-sitting for them while they’re visiting her husband’s family.”

He visibly relaxes, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you. Their flight gets in by ten, and they’ll be staying at mine, so they don’t have to book a hotel.”

“Isn’t your flat one bedroom?” I ask and he nods. “Why not come stay with me?”

I’ve not even finished speaking before he starts shaking his head, exactly as expected. “I’ll be fine on the couch. You’re already doing more than enough, and if we’re going to maintain this boundary, we need to keep things⁠—”

“Professional,” I finish for him. “But think it through. Would they be comfortable doing things while you’re in the living room?”

“Doing thi—” He cut himself off as understanding dawns on him. “Uh, I didn’t think of that.”

“Look,” I start, making my voice serious for once. “I promise not to proposition you. Firstly, the optics doesn’t look good, and secondly, I love my men willing and eager.” Then, just to see him squirm, I add, “Like you were in the club.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch him shifting in his seat. Interesting. I’m pretty sure if colour were visible on his skin, his cheeks will be flaming red right now.

“Okay,” he concedes after a moment. “Thanks.”

A smile brushes across his mouth just as I find a free parking space and pull in. I switch off the engine and grin to myself.

7

MICHAEL

—Sability by Arya Starr

It turns out, sneaking two famous footballers into the country is not as easy as I thought it would be.

There’s bribing involved, a bit of creative convincing, and some light threats from Roland’s cousin that I’m choosing not to examine closely. Paul’s calm demeanour could trick anyone into believing he couldn’t make you confess your darkest secrets by just looking at you. Somehow, the stealth operation was successful and now they’re all in the car.

Taj is driving, one hand loose on the wheel, the city fading behind us, replaced by the open roads of the countryside. We’re heading to Nehvizdy, a small town about an hour from Prague to the house Taj has so considerably offered to us.

“I’m hungry,” Austin says from the back, shifting closer to Roland like he’s actively trying to merge with him. “Are we going to a hotel?”

“You really think it’ll be easy to waltz into a hotel without your cover being blown?” Paul asks from beside Austin, eyeing him.

“Well, there’s no reason for a hotel,” Taj pipes up from the driver’s seat. “We’re going to my aunt’s house, and there are a lot of rooms for everybody.”