scent that was a mixture of shower gel with a faint echo of cologne, and something else, something that was pure Josh and completely addictive. He slapped Josh on the back in a manly way and swiftly disengaged. All that self-discipline over his fantasies wouldn’t mean jack if he got a boner while hugging Josh.
Finally, Brad declared them done and they climbed into the waiting cars and were taken back to their hotel. Josh turned to Ryan as they walked in through the lobby. “You want to go out, grab a bite somewhere?”
“It’s food. You need to ask?”
“Good point. See you in the bar in twenty.”
Back in his room, Ryan checked his phone. He had congratulatory texts from his parents and Elena, and, surprisingly, from Mitch. His read simply: Congrats. See you in Memphis, M x.
Ryan read it multiple times, wondering what, if anything, the x signified. Probably nothing. Probably Mitch signed all his texts that way. It was the first one he’d sent Ryan since they’d swapped numbers back in Melbourne, so Ryan had no way of knowing for sure. He sent back one that he hoped gave the impression of warmth without embarrassing himself if Mitch was just being a good guy and had texted the entire Cup team. Thanks , he said. Looking forward to Memphis. He didn’t sign it even with an initial, reckoning that got past any awkwardness to do with the whole x thing .
Texts to his parents and Elena were easier, if a little more exuberant. Then he saw the time and realized he needed to get changed and back down to the bar in seven minutes flat. He automatically went to pull on a pair of jeans, but suddenly remembered Josh in the Brisbane restaurant and wondered if he had somewhere upmarket in mind again. He ended up wearing a pair of black pants and a dark red shirt that Elena always said looked good on him. It would be better to be overdressed than turn up looking like some kind of hick, although his hair was doing its best to undo all his good work with the clothing choices. He scrubbed his hand through it but didn’t try to do anything more. He didn’t see why it would suddenly behave tonight just because he wanted it to.
When he got downstairs, he was glad he hadn’t gone with jeans and T-shirt because Josh, standing at the bar, was wearing a pair of gray dress pants that did positively sinful things to his ass. He turned to greet Ryan, and Ryan practically swallowed his tongue because of how the soft blue button-down Josh was wearing made his eyes look.
“Want a drink before we go?” Josh was halfway through what looked like a juice.
“You know what? I just want to get out of the air-con and see the city,” Ryan said. He never thought he’d say it after all those years of crummy motels and hotels, but he was at the point where he’d had enough of interchangeable five-star hotels, any of which could be in any city in the world.
Josh drained his glass. “Lead on, Macduff.”
“You’re the one who’s been here before. I haven’t a clue where I’m going.”
“It’s more exciting that way.”
“You say that till I lead us off the edge of a cliff.”
Before they left, Josh picked up the ball cap that had been on the bar and settled it low on his head so it obscured his face a little. Ryan realized that even in the middle of France, Josh Andrews was a pretty recognizable name. Venturing outside the artificial environment of tennis stadia and tournament hotels was an invitation to get pointed out and stared at.
The doorman held the door open for them as they stepped into the evening sunshine. Warm air, exhaust fumes, and the feel of a city that was busy going about its everyday business surrounded them. It was real life, not the slightly precocious bubble that Ryan had begun to feel he was living in.
“Left or right?” he asked Josh.
“Left is the parking garage,” Josh pointed out.
“Right it is, then.”
They’d only walked for a couple of blocks, Ryan keeping a keen eye out for anywhere that
Finally, Brad declared them done and they climbed into the waiting cars and were taken back to their hotel. Josh turned to Ryan as they walked in through the lobby. “You want to go out, grab a bite somewhere?”
“It’s food. You need to ask?”
“Good point. See you in the bar in twenty.”
Back in his room, Ryan checked his phone. He had congratulatory texts from his parents and Elena, and, surprisingly, from Mitch. His read simply: Congrats. See you in Memphis, M x.
Ryan read it multiple times, wondering what, if anything, the x signified. Probably nothing. Probably Mitch signed all his texts that way. It was the first one he’d sent Ryan since they’d swapped numbers back in Melbourne, so Ryan had no way of knowing for sure. He sent back one that he hoped gave the impression of warmth without embarrassing himself if Mitch was just being a good guy and had texted the entire Cup team. Thanks , he said. Looking forward to Memphis. He didn’t sign it even with an initial, reckoning that got past any awkwardness to do with the whole x thing .
Texts to his parents and Elena were easier, if a little more exuberant. Then he saw the time and realized he needed to get changed and back down to the bar in seven minutes flat. He automatically went to pull on a pair of jeans, but suddenly remembered Josh in the Brisbane restaurant and wondered if he had somewhere upmarket in mind again. He ended up wearing a pair of black pants and a dark red shirt that Elena always said looked good on him. It would be better to be overdressed than turn up looking like some kind of hick, although his hair was doing its best to undo all his good work with the clothing choices. He scrubbed his hand through it but didn’t try to do anything more. He didn’t see why it would suddenly behave tonight just because he wanted it to.
When he got downstairs, he was glad he hadn’t gone with jeans and T-shirt because Josh, standing at the bar, was wearing a pair of gray dress pants that did positively sinful things to his ass. He turned to greet Ryan, and Ryan practically swallowed his tongue because of how the soft blue button-down Josh was wearing made his eyes look.
“Want a drink before we go?” Josh was halfway through what looked like a juice.
“You know what? I just want to get out of the air-con and see the city,” Ryan said. He never thought he’d say it after all those years of crummy motels and hotels, but he was at the point where he’d had enough of interchangeable five-star hotels, any of which could be in any city in the world.
Josh drained his glass. “Lead on, Macduff.”
“You’re the one who’s been here before. I haven’t a clue where I’m going.”
“It’s more exciting that way.”
“You say that till I lead us off the edge of a cliff.”
Before they left, Josh picked up the ball cap that had been on the bar and settled it low on his head so it obscured his face a little. Ryan realized that even in the middle of France, Josh Andrews was a pretty recognizable name. Venturing outside the artificial environment of tennis stadia and tournament hotels was an invitation to get pointed out and stared at.
The doorman held the door open for them as they stepped into the evening sunshine. Warm air, exhaust fumes, and the feel of a city that was busy going about its everyday business surrounded them. It was real life, not the slightly precocious bubble that Ryan had begun to feel he was living in.
“Left or right?” he asked Josh.
“Left is the parking garage,” Josh pointed out.
“Right it is, then.”
They’d only walked for a couple of blocks, Ryan keeping a keen eye out for anywhere that
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