Page 17 of After the Siren

Chapter Nine

Jake liked doing social-media shit. Usually.

It was funny. Or at least, the process was funny.

The quality of the actual content varied.

Jake had no idea why the Falcons didn’t find someone under the age of forty to do team media, but maybe Greg had worked in marketing for so long that the Falcons couldn’t fire him.

Jake had to explain TikTok to him at least once a fortnight.

Jake didn’t have a good feeling about Valentine’s Day–themed social media, though.

At least not Valentine’s Day social media curated by Greg.

He also probably shouldn’t have engineered for Stavs to get dragged in as well, but .

.. he wanted to at least have some fun with it, and Stavs was definitely going to hate it more than he did.

Jake had followed through with his New Year’s resolution: he and Stavs were definitely friends now.

Stavs looked happier in training these days, although he did go a bit quiet whenever anyone mentioned the pre-season games coming up at the end of February.

Putting him on the wing had been an inspired move: his closing speed was insane and he didn’t get beaten one-on-one very often.

He was looking good. Looking like he had in those old videos.

Now he just had to do it in a game.

Jake had been collecting details about Stavs.

He hadn’t meant to, but they stuck. His coffee order (soy flat white).

His preferred snack (banana, sometimes with peanut butter).

The fact he always had a battered old book in his gym bag.

His real smile, which started out as a quirk on one side of his mouth and then spread over the rest of his face from there.

The way he laughed in training when he forgot he was worried and got caught up in fooling around.

The way his hands had felt on Jake’s back when Jake had jumped into his arms after a goal in a match sim.

The way he’d been able to take Jake’s weight with no effort at all.

Jake knew that Stavs hadn’t wanted to like him, which just made every smile Jake got out of him – and every laugh, every time he said yes when Jake suggested coffee or a drink – that much more satisfying.

Stavs being hot, though, was becoming a problem.

Or more of a problem. Jake had, historically, mixed results when fucking around with teammates.

On the one hand, it was very convenient, and normally both participants were committed to secrecy.

There was little risk of a relationship-ending fight about, say, coming out.

On the other hand, the probability of things getting weird was high.

He’d had a bit of a thing with one of his Falcons teammates in his first year, but Taylor had been traded to Brisbane and that had been that.

And, like he’d told Stavs, he didn’t shit where he ate anymore.

But try telling that to his dick.

Fucking around with Stavs would be a bad idea.

Even if it was a possibility, which it probably wasn’t.

Stavs did not seem like a bros-with-blowies kind of guy.

He’d overheard Stavs say that his bisexuality was only theoretical, so if Jake sometimes spent time in the shower thinking about giving him some practical experience, well .

.. he was only human. Stavs had really good biceps, and those eyelashes.

And he was wound tight in a way that made Jake want to mess him up.

Or to rile him up enough that he decided to mess Jake up.

That would probably be even better. Jake wanted .

.. well, he wanted things he wasn’t going to get.

And shouldn’t be thinking about. Stavs had obviously had a bad time, was trying to shake off whatever had happened last year, and he needed to feel comfortable in the team.

Fucking one of his teammates was not the way to accomplish that.

Jake locked his car and jogged across the car park.

Stavs was waiting for him in the foyer of the training centre, looking like he was going before the AFL Tribunal, not filming social-media content.

Because he was a good boy, he’d put on a pink polo for the occasion (Greg had told them to ‘dress in theme’).

Pink was a good colour on him. A really good colour.

He’d had his hair cut as well, and the newly crisp fade did things to his cheekbones.

Jake was wearing a Taylor Swift Eras singlet. Stavs gave it a judgemental look, because his taste in music was shit.

‘Ready?’ Jake asked.

‘I don’t know why they wanted me to do this.’

Jake knew, but he wasn’t going to confess. ‘Come on, Greg’ll bitch if we’re late.’

Greg had put a high round table and two bar stools in front of a whiteboard that he’d draped in a pink picnic blanket.

Jake wondered if he’d meant to make it look like they were on a date.

Probably not. It had probably never crossed Greg’s mind that two men who played football could date each other.

Greg looked very pleased with himself. A bad sign. As was the stack of love-heart-shaped cards in the centre of the table.

Stavs arranged himself on the stool, looking more and more like he was at his own wake. Jake hopped up and looked at Greg for instructions. Nothing to do but get it over with.

‘You’re going to ask one another questions,’ Greg explained. ‘They’re Valentine’s Day themed.’

‘Great,’ Jake said.

‘Okay.’ Theo looked like he was considering faking illness. Or ‘accidentally’ falling back off the stool.

Greg gave Theo a concerned look. ‘Are you alright? Jake said you were very keen, but if you’re not —’

Whoops .

Stavs no longer looked ill. He looked murderous.

‘I’m fine,’ Stavs ground out, giving Jake a we’ll talk about this later look that definitely wasn’t intended to be sexy.

Jake needed to get laid. He needed to find some hot, anonymous man and get this attraction to Stavs railed right out of him.

‘Right,’ Greg said, straightening the cards. ‘Let’s get started.’

He pulled one out of the pack and handed it to Jake.

Jake took a second to read it, then looked at Stavs, who was still looking murderous. ‘What’s your favourite type of first date?’ Boring.

Stavs visibly forced the scowl off his face.

He’d obviously decided to make an effort, probably because he didn’t want Greg to tell anyone that he wasn’t a team player.

He even smiled a little while he pretended to think before he answered.

‘Something low-key, I guess. If I don’t know the person that well, going for a coffee or brunch and then a walk somewhere nice.

If I do know them, maybe dinner – nothing wrong with a classic. ’

‘Yeah, you’re so chill, bro,’ Jake teased.

Stavs kicked him under the table and then had to reach out to grab him so he didn’t topple off the stool.

‘What’s your favourite type of first date?’ Stavs asked, even though he was supposed to get a new question from the next card. Greg wouldn’t like that.

‘Walk on the beach,’ Jake said, instead of the truth, which was I’ve never been on one .

‘A swim if the weather’s good.’ Maybe the New Year’s thing with Kyle counted as a date.

But it didn’t feel like it. Dating seemed like something you did where people could see you.

It didn’t count if you couldn’t even hold hands in public.

Stavs rolled his eyes. ‘Of course.’

‘What’s wrong with the beach on a first date?’ Was there something wrong with the beach on a first date? It seemed like a fine first date to him.

Theo gave the camera a seriously type of look. Maybe you weren’t supposed to take girls to the beach on the first date? Was that the sort of first date that felt a bit murdery if you were a girl? He’d ask Keeley.

Greg handed Stavs a card. A little pointedly.

‘Flowers or chocolates?’ Stavs asked.

‘Both, duh.’

‘For you or for your date?’ Stavs had cheered up a bit now he’d gotten a dig in and nearly knocked Jake off the stool. The smile was starting to look real.

Greg – bloody Greg – snorted. ‘For his date, obviously.’

Obviously.

The smile froze on Stavs’ face and his brows drew together. ‘What, can’t Jaze have flowers?’

It was the first time he’d called him Jaze . Not that Jake had been paying attention.

Jake pouted a little at the camera. ‘Yeah, what if I want flowers?’

Greg looked baffled. And all of a sudden Jake was tired in a way that felt like a kettlebell on his chest. Most of the time it wasn’t hard to pretend, because he’d been pretending his whole life, and he didn’t have to with the people he really cared about.

The people who really cared about him. But for some reason, sitting in front of a stupid whiteboard for a stupid jokey video, he was exhausted.

His smile didn’t slip, because it was a reflex at this point.

‘You gotta bring flowers for Jaze on a first date, he’s worth it,’ Stavs told the camera, pulling Greg’s attention away from Jake.

Stavs nudged the cards across the table and Jake took one. This was probably what he deserved, karmically, for roping Stavs into this.

‘Stavs,’ Jake said, reading from a new card. ‘How many languages can you ask someone out in?’ It was lucky Stavs had gotten this one, because Jake’s answer was One, kinda.

‘Oh.’ Stavs sounded surprised. It was actually a pretty interesting question. Maybe Greg had googled for suggestions. ‘Um, I think four.’

‘Really?’ Greg looked like he was about to call bullshit. Jake might have thought the same thing a few weeks ago, but he didn’t now.

‘English, obviously. Then I speak some French and Spanish, and ...’ Jake wondered if he was imagining the slight hesitation in Stavs’ voice. ‘I speak Arabic with my family.’

‘Give us a demo?’ Greg said.

Stavs shifted, as though he was uncomfortable that everyone was finding out he was a fucking genius who could take a wicked contested mark and knew about law shit and casually spoke more than one language.