“Doesn’t your friend Tens know a nurse intimately?” Gray had the newspaper spread across the table in front of them while they sat side by side at the island in the kitchen an hour later, eating breakfast. “Ruck made the paper.”

“Brilliant.” Scottie paused with a fork full of omelette halfway to his mouth. “A nurse? Right. Freddie. How the fuck did I forget about him?”

“Would he help?”

“Probably.” Scottie dropped the fork onto the plate as his appetite suddenly fled. “Not sure Tens would thank me for foisting my bastard of a father onto his Freddie. I’m pretty sure he’d kick my arse from Cardiff to London and back at least twice before drowning me in the river.”

“He might have suggestions for what you can do.” Gray stretched his arm out to grab the coffee pot from the nearby counter to top up their mugs. “Would your dad even take professional help?”

“From his violent reaction to the doctor? I doubt it. He’s happy enough to drink himself to death.” Scottie shoved his plate away, suddenly nauseated by the smell of eggs. He stared morosely down at the paper without reading a word. “I could drop kick him for doing this to me.”

Shaking his head with a bitter laugh, Scottie could admit to himself he wasn’t being fair. For all his faults, his father hadn’t drunk himself halfway into the grave to spite him. He knew the next few months or years wouldn’t be easy.

His father wouldn’t follow any of the doctor’s suggestions. Bringing Freddie into it might not do anything but exacerbate a difficult situation and bring the wrath of Taine down on his head. But it couldn’t hurt to ask the nurse for advice.

Right?

“Send Freddie a text. It can’t hurt to ask.” Gray folded up the paper and tossed it aside, getting to his feet when a quiet knock interrupted their breakfast. “Ahh, the twins. I was wondering if we’d see them this morning.”

While Gray went to open the door, Scottie fished around in his pocket for his mobile. He stared down at it for several seconds. If he messaged Freddie, all of his friends would know about his dad.

Am I ready for their sympathy? What am I so fucking afraid of? Having my friends show they care about me?

One issue that had frequently come up in his therapy sessions was his inability to let others into his life. Scottie trusted his rugby brothers more than anyone else in his life—Gray was slowly becoming a close second. His therapist thought he needed to learn how to let his friends in more often.

Scottie: Got a minute?

Taine: What’s going on?

Scottie: Silus came to visit me.

Taine: Didn’t know you kept in touch.

Scottie: He heard from my dad.

Taine: Shite.

Taine: What do you need?

Scottie: Some advice from your nicer half. If I promise not to be an arsehole, will you both have lunch with me today?

Taine: Why don’t we ask Gray to set up a chef’s table for us at Ruck? Guaranteed privacy and good food.

A quick conversation with Gray confirmed the man had no issues accommodating them. Ruck had a small space just off the kitchen that was set up specifically for a private chef’s table. Scottie confirmed the time with Taine and told himself that he’d done the right thing.

Leaving Gray to his morning rituals with Alice and Alex, Scottie headed home. He wanted a hot shower and a change of clothes before baring his soul to his friends. It might go a long way toward settling him.

Taine: Remi said to give you a warning.

Scottie: Warning about what?

Taine: Zeb’s in town.

Scottie: Why? Don’t I have enough shit to deal with right now than a jumped-up cocky French fucker?

Taine: Cocky? That’s a bit rich coming from you.

Taine: Remi said to play nicely.

Scottie: Again I say—fuck. Fuck off the lot of you and Remi in particular. And why didn’t the elder Frenchie contact me directly?

Taine: He assumed you’d take it better coming from me.

Zeb Chardin had been a rival of his when they’d both played rugby internationally. He happened to be a bit younger, a bit more talented, and slightly nicer than Scottie, which meant he’d managed his career better. They’d gone head-to-head in a few matches when France had played the Lions.

Fuck.

With any luck, I’ll be able to avoid the bastard.

How much luck have I actually had lately?

Fucking none.

That’s how much.

Lunch with Taine and his boyfriend went relatively well. Freddie had immediately offered to send an email with suggestions for how to care for his dad, along with recommendations for how to find in-home help. Scottie had no idea if his old man would even go for any of it.

I’ll be lucky if the stubborn arsehole even lets me in the door.

“About Zeb.” Taine pulled Scottie outside of Ruck for an apparently private talk. They glared at each other for several seconds. “Look, give the lad a chance, will you?”

“Why?” Scottie had a distinct feeling whatever his old friend was about to say would make him want to take a swing at him, so he shoved his hands into his pockets. “What have you done now?”

“We thought you might want a bit of help at the club while you’re dealing with your dad.” Taine appeared to be bracing himself with his arms folded across his chest. “Zeb just finished up and has a few months free.”

“No.”

“Scottie.”

“Fuck off. No, I’m not working with that smug wanker.” Scottie scowled at Taine when he started to open his mouth. “And don’t go off on how I'm a hypocrite.”

“Consider it a test of your new state of mind.” Taine smiled serenely when Scottie’s glare intensified. “Give it a try. He’s mellowed out a bit.”

“Doubtful.”

“You’ve mellowed out a bit as well,” Taine reminded him.

“Fuck.” Scottie could only shake his head with a sigh of resignation. “Fine, but if we burn the place to the ground, I’m placing the blame firmly on your shoulders.”

“Fair enough.” Taine threw an arm around his shoulder to return to Ruck. “You know we’re proud of you, right? We thought we’d be burying you, but you’re turning your life around.”

“Fuck off.”

“You’re welcome.” Taine shoved him toward the door of the restaurant. “I am proud of you.”

“But don’t screw it up?” Scottie tried to play off his embarrassment with a joke, but his old rugby teammate wasn’t having it.

“I’m proud of you.” He stepped back to allow a few customers to exit before they re-entered Ruck. “Full stop.”