Page 202 of Men in Shorts

Luca nudged Duncan amidst the applause. “Take it from one who knows: Playing against one’s partner makes winning twice as sweet.” His dark eyes twinkled as he offered the mischievous grin that seemed never far from his face.

“It’d be even sweeter if we could give this final a miss and get out of here. We’ve not seen each other for six months.”

“Wow. How long were you together before that?”

“About two years.”

Luca gaped at him, his beer bottle paused halfway to his mouth. “Two years? How old are you?”

“We’re twenty.” He bristled at his coach’s shock, especially since Luca couldn’t have been much more than twenty-five himself. “I know, we seem young to be committed for so long. But we’ve been happy together.” He rotated his left shoulder, which had gone a bit stiff. “At least, I thought Brodie was happy, but then he went to Nigeria for a summer internship.”

“With New Shores, I assume, since he’s in their team?”

Duncan nodded. “I was sad to see him go, but I supported him. He was helping LGBTQ people in countries where they’re persecuted for who they are. He’d done it here in Glasgow for asylum seekers who’d managed to get here, but this new internship let him help people while they’re still in their original country. If they can be more familiar with the asylum process and sort out everything they need before leaving for the UK, they’ll be less likely to get deported or sent to one of those horrible detention centers.”

“Makes sense,” Luca said. “So what happened?”

“At the end of the summer, Brodie got a chance to do the same thing he’d been doing in Nigeria, but this time in Russia. Another three months away from home. Away from me.”

“Ooft, long-distance relationships are so difficult. Did you break up with him because he wasn’t coming home?”

“No, we never broke up, we just—” Duncan turned his head to the left. “Mum, could you not eavesdrop?”

She put up her hands and leaned away. “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing I’ve not already told you.”

“I thought there might be an update,” Mum said, “now you’ve seen him again in person.”

“The only update is that things are awkward, which you can clearly see. But we’ll get past it.”

“Do you want me to talk to Brodie?” she asked. “Suss out what he’s feeling just now?”

Duncan had to literally bite his tongue to keep his cool. “Please…do not do that.” He rubbed his shoulder and tried again to roll out the stiffness.

“You all right?” Luca asked. “I told Garen four games in one day was too much, even half-size games of four ends each.”

Duncan grimaced at the thought of playing a full-length, eight-end game. “I’m not tired.”

“That makes one of you,” Mum said.

“My shoulder’s just a bit tight from sweeping,” he told Luca.

“We’ve got a wee workout room, if you need somewhere to stretch.”

“That’d be great.” As a bonus, it would let him escape his parents’ chronic nosiness.

“It’s on the other side of the changing rooms.” Luca pointed to a hallway near the kitchen. “Go through the men’s, past the lockers, and you’ll see it.”

It sounded like a healthier anti-stress tactic than drinking beer and woe-is-me’ing to his coach. “Thanks!” He grabbed his water bottle and headed for the hallway.

The workout room was indeed wee, but it was empty now and had all he needed: a mat, a bar to hold onto, and some breathing space. He took off his hoodie and started with shoulder rolls and windmill stretches, followed by high kicks to loosen his hamstrings.

A bleep came from the floor beneath the bar. His phone. He hurried over and checked the message, a group text to him and Heather:

Fergus

Greenock 1-2 Warriors!

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