Each of us freshly showered, Lachlan stood at the stove, reheating a plate of food he’d brought home, and I sat at his dining table, watching game tapes of our next opponents on mute. It was after eleven, but when Lachlan had called earlier to ask if I wanted to come over and stay the night, I jumped in my car quicker than you could say booty call. Thankfully, I didn’t need to be up too early tomorrow.

Still, these late nights weren’t great for my training. Now that we’d decided to give this thing between us a real shot, we should probably sit down and figure out some sort of schedule that made sense for both of us.

“What’s your schedule look like for the rest of the week?” I asked, flipping over to my Google calendar that held all my training sessions, physio appointments, and other team-related items. Between rugby and Lachlan, I didn’t have anything else going on so it wasn’t like I had to juggle too many balls at once.

Juggling balls. I chuckled, and my own balls tightened as I recalled how loudly Lachlan had come when I’d had his in my mouth earlier

Over his shoulder, Lachlan said, “I’ve got Paul closing on Friday night. I thought I’d head over to your match. If that’s okay with you?” I heard the hesitation in his voice but disregarded it. I knew why he used that tone, and I also knew if I addressed it, we might end up fighting.

Besides, the idea of Lachlan watching me play filled me with inordinate amounts of pleasure. From the first, I’d known he didn’t really understand rugby, and if it weren’t for me, I doubt he’d be trying to learn now. But the fact that he was making an effort to find common ground between us didn’t go unnoticed.

“Yeah, that sounds grand. Let me see about getting you some tickets.”

There wasn’t anything weird about giving a friend your two allocated match day tickets, was there? Angus was a rugby fan; maybe Lachlan could bring him so he’d have someone to explain the game other than the other wives and girlfriends. But would that be too conspicuous? Shit, maybe I’d just pick up two off Ticketmaster instead and pretend all the team’s seats were spoken for already. Either way, I’d set him up.

“You should bring Angus too if he’s free. He can give you the play-by-play, so you’re not completely lost.”

“Hey!” he chided, tossing a dish towel my way. It fluttered to the floor about three meters short. “I’ve been watching the replays,” he added, turning back to his meal prep. “I’m not completely ignorant.”

“You have?” That … well, it shocked me. He hadn’t said anything. After a match, Lachlan would typically ask me how it had gone, I’d give him the high-level overview, then he’d ask me if I was happy with how I played. That was pretty much the extent of our conversations about my career.

“Yeah,” he replied gruffly, tossing a spoon in the sink with a loud clatter. “You always what to know what I’m doing in the kitchen and why, and we talk a lot about what goes on with the restaurant from a business standpoint. I wanted to be able to have similar conversations with you.” He turned back to me. “But damn, there are so many rules. How do you keep them all straight?”

I shrugged. “I just do. Rugby’s in my blood. I’ve known how to scrum since before I could ride a bike.” Although come to think of it, I couldn’t remember if I’d ever actually ridden a bike. I must have, at least once. I was pretty sure I knew how to ride one at any rate.

“But you’re right,” Lachlan said, bringing his plate to the table and sitting down across from me. “I’ll see if Angus wants to come. I’d be lost otherwise.” He smiled and shoved a forkful of meat into his mouth.

Without knocking, the man himself strolled through Lachlan’s front door, made his way to the sofa, and dropped down into it. Tossing his feet up on the table, he linked his fingers behind his head and let out a long, satisfied sigh. “Have I ever told you your place is so much nicer than mine.”

Lachlan swallowed and chuckled. “That’s because I own the building, asshole. And you live practically rent free.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty sweet deal,” Angus agreed, leaning forward and setting out a baggie and pipe on the coffee table in front of him. Opening it, he pinched off a bud and packed the bowl. “How goes it, Liam?” he asked, setting a lighter to the marijuana until it flared cherry red.

“It’s good,” I said, closing my computer and pushing back my chair. Leaning down, I kissed the side of Lachlan’s head and squeezed his shoulder. “But it’s late, and I need to get to bed. See ya later, Angus.” I lifted my hand in a wave as I made my way down the hall toward Lachlan’s bedroom.

Except, I didn’t immediately go to sleep. I sat in Lachlan’s bed, my computer open on my lap, as I tried to watch some additional footage from our last match to see where we could tighten up our scrum and move the ball out of our rucks at a much quicker pace. Even with the door closed, I could still hear the two men talking in the room beyond. I couldn’t make out any specific words of their conversation, but the smell of weed was pungent in my nostrils.

Theoretically, I didn’t have a problem with pot. I might even enjoy it if I ever tried it (after retirement, of course). Lord knew Lachlan and Angus enjoyed the hell out of smoking it. One night last week, I’d woken up at three o’clock in the morning to the sound of their voices, louder than normal. I’d slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to find them splayed out on the floor passing a joint back and forth between them in between bouts of laughter. I’d watched them for a few minutes, struck by their ease with one another, and then made my way back to Lachlan’s bed to go back to sleep, but the image had stuck with me.

Now, I wasn’t sure if it was the idea that Lachlan still got high, or if it was that he got high with a former fuck buddy that irked me. I liked Angus well enough, but I hadn’t forgotten the look on his face when he’d told me he missed Lachlan’s cock. I wasn’t typically a jealous man, but these late night toke sessions gave me pause.

I trusted a sober Lachlan not to fuck me over, but what about a high one? If late one night when I wasn’t sleeping down the hall, Angus put the moves on him, would Lachlan push him away? Or, would he let Angus suck his dick the way I knew the man was itching too? Most of the time I knew Lachlan would do the right thing, but sometimes—like the night I’d seen them laughing together—I wasn’t entirely certain.

I’d been drunk and horny plenty of times; one of which was partially to blame for my exile to Edinburgh. I had enough experience to know when faced with a particular sort of temptation, guys didn’t always think with the right head.

I liked to believe I satisfied Lachlan’s desires, but we still hadn’t fucked yet, and that niggled at me. Maybe he was putting me off because he was getting it somewhere else? With an angry shake of my head, I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. I didn’t know much about relationships, but I knew I had to trust him.

Admitting to myself I wasn’t going to be able to focus on the footage on my screen, I shut down my computer and rolled out of bed to brush my teeth. I was crawling back between the sheets when Lachlan slipped into his room and pulled his sweater off over his head.

Turning toward his side of the bed, he saw that I was still awake tossed me a lopsided grin. “Hey,” he whispered, overly loud. “You’re still up.”

“Yeah,” I said, punching the pillow to fluff it before laying down. “Was just watching some video before our session tomorrow.”

Since the team had worked our bodies hard today, tomorrow we’d break up into groups and examine the footage with our coaching staff to point out where we might exploit holes in the opposition’s defense, or them ours. I wasn’t worried about our pack—we were solid—but the backs were going to have a hard time containing Gwynne. I hadn’t seen a player come up the ranks as quickly and as forcefully as he had these past few months. He was young and explosive, and I was certain my friends back in Dublin would see him on the pitch when Ireland met Wales in the Six Nations in a couple of months.

It would be the first time in years I wouldn’t be called up for the squad for reasons other than injury. Before I'd torn my rotator cuff last season, I’d started all three matches during the autumn series, but then everything had gone to shit with my injury. Technically, there wasn't a rule excluding an Irish-qualified player who plied his trade abroad from being named to the national team, but once you left the country, you were as good as dead to The Wallaby. The sad thing was, I was playing some of my best rugby in years. Maybe it was because I felt like I had something to prove to everyone who’d written me off as a has-been, but on form alone, I would have been the choice eight … and that stung.

But I tried not to dwell on it too much as Lachlan climbed into bed next to me. If I were still in Dublin, would never have met him so my exile hadn’t been all bad.

“Were we too loud?” he asked, dragging the blanket up over his naked body and turning on his side to face me, his chin propped up in his palm. He hadn’t pulled the curtains closed so I could still make out his eyes. They were glassy and unfocused.

“Nah, you were grand.”

“Then why do you look pissed off?”

I laid down flat on my back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not. I just have a lot on my mind.”

He pushed against my shoulder, a little more forcefully than I think he meant to. When Lachlan was high, he was always a little louder and a little more forceful than he normally was. “What is it?” he asked, and I rolled onto my side to face him.

Did I want to have this conversation in his current state? And if we did have it, would he remember any of it in the morning? We didn’t really do a lot of talking once he smoked up. But suddenly I was pissed off, and I did want to tell him why.

“I don’t want to be that guy who gets all whiny when you don’t pay attention to me, but I came over to spend time with you. I had stuff to do and had I known you were going to end up toking up with Angus, I would have just stayed home.”

Lachlan blew out a long breath, flopped down onto his back, and threw his arm over his eyes to block out the street light shining directly in his path. “Fuck, I knew you were mad.”

“I’m not mad,” I countered, “I’m just saying this happens a lot. Usually I ignore it because it’s not a big deal, but …”

“But what?” he asked, lifting his arm and peering out at me from one eye. The other was squinted shut.

I paused before answering. I needed to consider my next words before I said them aloud. I wanted to understand where this heavy feeling in my gut was coming from. Was it Angus, or was it drugs? Or, was it both? My concern, first and foremost, was for Lachlan’s well being. I didn’t know much about addicts, but it seemed a slippery slope for someone who’d had substance abuse issues in the past to be getting high, even if it was only a couple of nights a week to wind down from a loud and crazy night in the kitchen.

“Can you not smoke when I’m here?” is what ended up coming out of my mouth. In my head, it had sounded like a good compromise, but now I wasn’t so sure. The request was about my needs, while I really wanted this conversation to be about Lachlan and what was best for him.

Even if it was a little bit about me, too.

Lachlan sat up, the blankets pooling at his waist. “Yeah, of course,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” I said, sitting up to face him. “It’s just, you know. Random drug tests and whatnot.”

“Fuck, I hadn’t even thought of that.” He speared a hand through wild hair. When he let it air dry after getting out of the shower without putting any product in it, the curls went a little bit crazy. “Okay, no more toking up when you’re over.”

“Ehm,” I started to say before I could stop myself.

“What?” he asked, his head cocked to the side.

“I just wanted to know, and you can tell me to feck off. It’s probably none of my business—”

“You’re my boyfriend. Everything about me is your business.” His voice rang out strong and purposeful. If I hadn’t known otherwise, I never would have guessed looking at him now that he’d been high a short while ago.

I didn’t know why I was having trouble with this next part. I’d never been one to hold back. Hell, I’d never had a problem voicing my thoughts at all until I’d met Lachlan. But then, I’d never had the types of difficult conversations that Lachlan and I seemed to wind up having before either. That would have required me actually caring about the people I was sleeping with.

I took a deep breath, and let it out in a long, slow gust. “I wanted to know if I should be concerned for you.”

His eyebrows dropped into a deep vee and his lips pursed in confusion. “In what way?”

“The pot. Like, can that lead to other things?”

“Things like heroin?” he asked, realization dawning on his shadow-lined face.

“Yeah, things like heroin. I just … I’m out of my depth here when it comes to that, and I care about you, so …” I shrugged, the gesture an uncomfortable one.

Lachlan’s face softened, and he shook his head. “No, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Are you sure?”

He set his hand on mine and gently squeezed. “Yes, I’m sure.”

I looked down at our hands and marveled at the difference between them. The golden hair on my wrist shimmered in the filtered light from the street below, while Lachlan’s dark hair and darker ink ate up the shadows. We were so different, but I couldn’t imagine a time when he hadn’t been mine. So much had happened so quickly, and I didn’t want to think about what would happen if he was wrong about this.

“Hey,” he said, notching my chin up so he could see my face. “Do you trust me?”

I did. Implicitly. “Yes.”

“Then trust me when I say I’m fine. You don’t want me to smoke around you anymore, I won’t.” He stared at me for a few prolonged seconds, the sound of cars and late-night revelers out on the street below filling the silence. “In fact, I won’t smoke anymore at all.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. But it’s important to you, and you’re important to me, so it’s done. No more weed.”

“Are you sure?”

He raised his eyebrow. “Do I look unsure?”

I smiled back at him. “No.”

“Then stop asking me all the damn time if I’m sure. If I say something, I mean it.” He yanked me toward him, and we fell back together, my head resting on his chest.

“Angus is going to be one pissed off Scot.”

“He’ll get over it,” he chuckled. “Now go to sleep.”