Page 77 of Playing the Game

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

His phone was vibrating. Probably Adam. Jonas had enough self-awareness to realise any further conversation would be disastrous. He’d call him later that evening.

It was so unfair. And as for Steven potentially sticking his nose in. Just because he’d managed his relationship with Udo so badly didn’t mean Adam and Jonas would do the same. Jonas hated a hypocrite.

A night of obsessing beckoned. Jonas would not do that. Instead he grabbed his keys and stormed out of the flat.

He didn’t go very far. One flight of stairs in fact. He’d said he planned on visiting Tito. Jonas wasn’t about to become a liar on top of everything else.

Tito answered on the second knock.

“Jonas. Come in.”

He followed Tito down the hall and into his lounge where Noah in the chair.

“Great minds think alike,” Noah said.

Jonas managed a smile and flopped down on the sofa.

“Oh dear,” Tito said. “Someone’s got the post-win blues. I was giving Noah here a fashion show. I went into Manchester today.”

As usual clothes were strewn over the other sofa. They appeared to be new, judging by all the tags on them.

“Wow. You spent big,” Jonas said.

“No pockets in shrouds.”

“I presume there are in Gucci trousers?”

“Correct.”

Noah shook his head. “You haven’t got that bonus yet.”

Tito shrugged. “I’ve plenty of cash. Even with the shitty wages they pay here.”

He wasn’t wrong. All three of them had taken significant pay cuts to move to Brockton. So far, Jonas questioned whether it had all been worth it.

“What’s up with you?” Tito said. “Unburden yourself.”

He jumped on the couch next to Jonas.

“Nothing,” Jonas said. “Like you say. A comedown from the win, I guess. How was Manchester?”

Tito glanced at Noah and bit his lip. “I viewed an apartment.”

Both Jonas and Noah snapped to attention.

“What?” Noah asked.

“Calm down. I’m only window shopping. I might get a place there too.”

It did feel like their bubble was under threat. Tito had every right to do whatever he pleased. Even so, things were changing rapidly. Jonas gripped the sofa arm.

“I don’t intend on being single for long,” Tito explained. “I’m more likely to find a decent guy there than in Brockton. Even you two have to admit that.”

Now that Jonas couldn’t deny. Brockton was a small town. He suspected Tito had drained most of its gay resources.

“What will you do, Noah?” Jonas asked. “We’ve only got these flats for this season.”