Ukuleles & Scrums (Mitch & Cian Book 4)

by Helena Stone

  “Do you know how to play?” Cora asked.

  “Only guitar,” Mitch admitted while Ro walked past the other three and picked something up from the floor.

  “Here.” Ro held out a bright purple ukulele to Mitch. “You use this one for the time being. You can get your own if you decide to stay.”

  Mitch took the instrument and ran the nail of his middle finger across the strings, surprised to discover how much he enjoyed creating a sound for the first time in years.

  “Watch me.” Ro played a few chords, creating a tune Mitch almost instantly recognized as “You are My Sunshine.”

  Focusing on Ro’s fingers, Mitch copied her movements, grinning when he instantly managed to join in. “You were right. This is not as hard as I thought it would be.” Silently he also admitted to himself that it was good to make music again after so many years. He’d never been aware of missing it, but he couldn’t deny how right it felt to be strumming strings again. Without thinking about it, he sang along with the notes.

  “Oh! He can sing too. Good find, Ro!”

  Cora’s exclamation brought a blush to Mitch’s cheeks, and he clamped his lips together.

  “Don’t stop,” Cora said. “You really are good.”

  Pushing his natural shyness away and trying to ignore the warm glow those words ignited, Mitch sang again, barely noticing that he didn’t need to keep an eye on Ro’s hands anymore to play the tune.

  “That’s settled, then. You’re in.” Ro’s statement didn’t leave any room for argument. Not that Mitch wanted to object. He’d started the day with the vague idea he should find a hobby to pass the time while Cian was playing rugby, not expecting to get excited about anything. To find himself thoroughly enjoying himself and fully accepted by people he hadn’t known until moments ago was too miraculous to second-guess.

  Two hours flew by as Mitch lost himself in learning different songs, talking about the music each of them liked, and deciding on other tunes to check out over the coming weeks.

  “Guys, I need to go. I’m supposed to be meeting friends in half an hour,” Harry said.

  Mitch checked the screen on his phone, shocked to see it was almost half past eight before deciding it didn’t matter. The apartment would be empty when he returned anyway.

  When he tried to return his instrument to Ro, she didn’t take it but handed him a bag instead.

  “You keep it for now.” She grinned at him. “If you keep on practicing at home, you’ll probably play better than any of us in a matter of days.” She turned her attention to the others. “So, from next week we’ll meet every Tuesday and Thursday at six? Does that work for youse?”

  After they’d all agreed and said goodbye, Mitch made his way home in a much better mood than he’d been in days. When he decided to try and find some activity he might enjoy doing with others, it had been to put an end to his bout of feeling sorry for himself. He’d more than succeeded in that respect, but what was even better was that he’d found himself, not a distraction, but something he thoroughly enjoyed. Not only had he not pitied himself over the past few hours, but he’d also completely forgotten why he’d felt sorry for himself in the first place.

  Still buzzing and fully expecting to be the first one home, Mitch was taken by surprise when he found all the lights on and Cian on the couch, glaring at a late-night talk show they never watched on the TV.

  Oops.

  “So, you’re not dead, then.” Cian’s choice of words matched the stony expression on his face.

  Mitch opened his mouth to give a cutting answer before reconsidering. It wouldn’t have killed him to send Cian a message. But that didn’t mean Cian’s reaction was fair.

  “Did anybody ever tell you about this pot and this kettle, calling each other black?” Mitch fisted his hands, digging his nails into his palms, hoping Cian would follow his lighthearted lead. Please, Cian, I don’t want to fight.

  The silence, following his words, made Mitch appreciate that a lack of sound could indeed be deafening, for the first time in his life.

  Then Cian’s face relaxed. “Fair enough. I guess I deserve that.” He gave a half smile. “I suppose we could just agree to get better at keeping each other informed when our plans change.”

  A weight lifted off Mitch’s shoulders. “I did think about messaging you, but I figured you’d be late because it’s a training night, so it didn’t matter.”

  Cian nodded. “We all went home straight after the session. I guess they don’t go out every time. Or maybe just not on Friday nights, when there’s a match on the next day.” He glanced at Mitch’s hand. “What’s that?”

  “A ukulele,” Mitch replied. “I sorta joined a group.”

  “Sorta?” Cian smirked.

  Mitch laughed. “I’m still not sure how it happened. But I met Ro, and next thing I knew I held this”—he lifted his hand holding the instrument—“and was learning how to play a song.”

  For a moment Cian’s face darkened. “Ro?”

  “One of the other musicians,” Mitch explained, noticing Cian’s expression but feeling too excited about his news to linger on it. “There’s Patrick, Cora, Harry, Ro, and now also me. They’re a cool bunch. They didn’t even mind I’d never picked up a ukulele before today.”

  “Nice one. And that’s your uke?”

  “For the time being. I’ve got it on loan.”

  “Play me a tune?”

  “Not now.” Mitch wasn’t sure where his reluctance came from, but he wasn’t ready to share his newfound hobby. If Cian could have his rugby, surely Mitch was entitled to his music. “I don’t really know what I’m doing yet.”

  The disappointment flashing across Cian’s face took Mitch by surprise but didn’t make him reconsider his decision. He had no doubt he’d be playing, if not in front of Cian, then at least where Cian would hear him, before too long. He just wasn’t there yet. The idea was too new. He needed to make it his own first.

  “So, when will your group be meeting?” Cian asked.

  “On Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Mitch said.

  “Wow.” Cian looked thoughtful. “Add on my training on Friday and matches during the weekend, and we’ll have to schedule our time together next.” The subsequent grin on his face looked forced. “Just as well we live together.”

  A chill erupted across Mitch’s skin, accompanied by a sensation of discomfort he didn’t want to explore.

  “I’m starving. Did you eat yet?” Mitch knew he was avoiding a conversation they should probably have but wasn’t ready for whatever that talk might involve.

  “No,” Cain said. “I was waiting for you.”

  “You want to have pizza?” Mitch asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll go and get one.” Mitch didn’t wait for a reply. He placed his backpack and ukulele on the floor and walked to the front door. For the first time since he’d met Cian, he needed to spend a few minutes away from him, an opportunity to regroup and shake the vague feelings of disquiet.

  Nothing’s wrong. We’re just figuring out how to live together. We’re good. He repeated the words to himself until he entered the pizza restaurant and placed his order.

  Chapter Four

  “Will you be going to the party?” Peter’s voice was muffled by the top he pulled down over his head.

  “What party?” Cian asked.

  “Didn’t you hear? The club is organizing a Halloween party on the 31st.”

  “Cool.” Cian couldn’t remember the last party he’d been to. “Just for members, is it?”

  “Fuck no.” Peter looked horrified at the suggestion. “Nothing ever is. Bring friends or a partner if you have one.” He studied Cian for a moment. “Do you?”

  “Do I what?” Cian asked the question, although he feared he already knew the answer.

  “Have a partner,” Peter clarified.

  Bollix. Cian liked Peter, who had been welcoming and kind ever since Cian started training with the Emerald Warriors. But even if Cian ha
d been single, he wouldn’t have been attracted to the bear of a man. He just wasn’t Cian’s type.

  “Yes,” Cain said. “I have a boyfriend. We share an apartment, actually.” He mentally crossed his fingers his revelation wouldn’t mean the end of the friendly banter between him and his teammate.

  Much to Cian’s relief, Peter took the news with good grace, limiting his reaction to a resigned expression on his face. “Lucky boyfriend.” He shrugged. “You can’t blame a man for trying.”

  “I won’t.” Cian grinned. “I like compliments as much as the next person.” He couldn’t deny he got a buzz out of Peter being attracted to him, although he wasn’t inclined to say as much out loud. “A party sounds good. What day is the 31st?”

  “Thursday, I think.”

  “Oh.” Cian’s mood dropped.

  “Not a good day for you?” Peter asked.

  “It works just fine for me. But Mitch does his own thing on Thursdays, so I’m not sure he’ll be able to come with me.” Which was a bummer. Cian wanted to introduce Mitch to the club, to the men he trained with, and the new friends he was making. A party would have been the perfect occasion. After all, Cian had joined the club almost a month ago, and Mitch had yet to accompany him to either a training session or a match. Mitch’s reasons for not being able to come along on the days he wasn’t making music started to sound like empty and inexplicable excuses, which was disconcerting, to put it mildly.

  “Are you coming for a pint?” Peter asked as they left the grounds.

  “No,” Cian said reluctantly, “not tonight.”

  “Fair enough. See you next week. Have a nice weekend.”

  “You too.” Cian headed for the bus stop, trying hard not to linger on the fact that he would have killed for a pint with the lads. He enjoyed talking rugby after he’d played, and for reasons he didn’t understand, Mitch had developed a habit of cutting such conversations off almost before they started.

  By the time he stuck his key into the lock and opened the front door, Cian had made up his mind; no matter what Mitch said, he would go to the Halloween party. He fervently hoped Mitch would come with him, but if he couldn’t or wouldn’t, Cian would go on his own.

  He found Mitch in the kitchen, closing the oven door. The aromas welcoming Cian made his mouth water, and all thoughts about parties and Mitch’s attendance slipped his mind.

  “Hey.” He approached Mitch and kissed him. “Something smells fabulous. Shepherd’s pie?”

  Mitch’s face lit up. “Right the first time.” He pressed his lips against Cian’s. “And your timing is perfect. We can eat in five minutes if you want.”

  “I do want.” As if to confirm Cian’s words, his stomach grumbled at that exact moment. “See?”

  Mitch grinned before opening a cabinet and grabbing two plates and two glasses. Moments later the table had been set and he opened the fridge, extracting two bottles of what looked suspiciously like Cian’s favorite stout.

  “Beer with dinner?” Cian asked. It wasn’t something they did often. Unless they had something to celebrate, they usually stuck to water. “What’s the occasion?”

  For a moment Mitch looked uncomfortable. Then he smirked. “Does there have to be a reason? It’s Friday. The weekend has started, and I’m having dinner with my boyfriend. Aren’t those reasons enough?”

  As much as Cian was sure there was more to Mitch’s decision, he couldn’t fault the argument he’d given, so he let it go, deciding to just enjoy their dinner and Mitch’s good mood. It had been too long since they’d been together without any of the barely recognizable yet lingering awkwardness between them. Besides, Cian couldn’t rule out that concerns about how Mitch would react to the news about the party made him see things that weren’t actually there.

  “How was training?” Mitch asked after they’d filled their plates and taken the first few bites of the shepherd’s pie, which tasted every bit as delicious as it smelled.

  “Great,” Cian said. “I’m really starting to find my place in the group now. And the others seem to be happy with how I play. Joining that club was the best decision I’ve taken in a long time. I wish I’d discovered the Emerald Warriors earlier.”

  Mitch lowered his gaze and focused on his plate, but not before Cian saw the tightening of his lips and the small frown line forming between his eyes.

  Why? Why do you dislike me playing rugby so much? He couldn’t make himself ask the question out loud, too afraid he wouldn’t Mitch’s reply.

  “And you have a match tomorrow?” Mitch still didn’t look at Cian.

  “Yes. At two o’clock.”

  Mitch nodded.

  “Why don’t you come and watch?”

  Mitch raised his chin and looked at Cian. The combination of regret and defiance in his gaze shook Cian’s to his core. “I can’t. I’m meeting Ro. We’re going to find me a ukulele of my own.”

  “You’ve decided to keep it up, then?” Cian asked, hoping his voice made him sound interested rather than disappointed and scared. Who is this Ro? The question burned on his lips, but Cian’s fear that he wouldn’t like Mitch’s answer was far greater than his curiosity, so he kept it inside. After all, if one of Cian’s teammates came on to him, there was no reason to think the same wouldn’t be happening to Mitch.

  Mitch’s face lit up, making him look relaxed and happy for the first time since they’d started talking about rugby. “Yes. I’m loving it. I didn’t even know how much I missed making music until I started doing it again. And the group is great. I’m so happy Ro found me in front of the notice board that day.”

  Ro… Again. Every time Mitch mentioned the name—something Mitch did far more often than Cian was comfortable with—Cian’s level of discomfort shot up. What if this Ro can meet needs Mitch has that I can’t? What if they have more in common than we do?

  “You could always bring Ro to the match,” Cian suggested, not entirely sure what he wanted Mitch’s answer to be.

  “Maybe some other time,” Mitch said, looking genuinely contrite. “We’re not meeting until after one tomorrow afternoon. I don’t think we’ll have time to do both.”

  It was Cian’s turn to focus on his plate. He didn’t want Mitch to see how disappointed he was. He ate the last few bites of his dinner, no longer enjoying what had been a fabulous meal until moments ago.

  “That’s a shame,” he said after he’d cleared his plate. “I can’t wait to introduce you to the lads, and I’m quite curious about your friend too.” He picked up his glass and gulped down half its contents. He grinned at Mitch when he lowered his drink again. “You’d get a good laugh out of meeting Peter. He sorta let slip he’s attracted to me tonight.”

  Cian wanted to take the words back the moment he saw the horrified expression on Mitch’s face.

  He didn’t like himself much. He’d made up his mind not to tell Mitch about the conversation until after he’d met the whole team. Doing so now, just because all this talk about Ro left him uncomfortable, made Cian feel small and mean.

  “Attracted?” Mitch’s pained expression made it clear that wasn’t all he wanted to ask, and Cian knew exactly which words he’d swallowed.

  “I know, right?” He shrugged and grinned, hoping it would ease Mitch’s concerns. “I’m flattered, of course. But he’s so not my type I almost laughed in his face.” Okay, it was an exaggeration, but if it took at least some of the sting out of his previous, careless, statement, it was worth the white lie.

  Mitch’s returning grimace was weak at best. “Well, I can’t deny he has a point. You are attractive.” He stood and picked up the empty plates, placing them in the sink before returning for the oven dish and cutlery.

  We need to fix this. The thought screamed in Cian’s mind, but he had no idea what exactly was wrong and didn’t know where to begin figuring out how to make it better.

  He got up too and wrapped his arms around Mitch’s waist when he returned to the table again. “I’m glad you think so.” He pressed his mo
uth against Mitch’s. “And with you, it’s definitely a two-way attraction.”

  Mitch’s features relaxed some, and he returned Cian’s kiss, parting his lips and moving his tongue across Cian’s mouth with a small, hungry sound.

  Cian surrendered to the kiss. He hadn’t even mentioned the upcoming party yet but couldn’t bring himself to do so now. He wasn’t sure why—which seemed to be his dominant frame of mind these days—but he had no doubt sharing the information would spoil the mood again. There were still two weeks until Halloween. It could wait. Right now, they needed to reconnect, indulge in the one thing that had always been right between them.

  Reluctantly he broke their kiss, took Mitch’s hand, and pulled him along as he made his way to the bedroom, receiving remarkably little resistance from Mitch.

  As soon as they stood next to the bed, Cian cupped Mitch’s head and claimed his mouth again. Where he hadn’t been able to put the vague doubts and worries floating through his mind into words, he had no problem pouring all his desire and need for Mitch into his kiss. This is perfect. I don’t want to lose this. I need you, Mitch.

  “Need you naked.” Mitch whispered the words without ending the contact between their mouths, taking Cian’s breath away because they came so very close to mirroring his thoughts.

  Without answering, Cian took a step back and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. “Like this?”

  Mitch gaze traveled across his torso, and Cian imagined he could feel the heat shining from Mitch’s eyes on his skin, traveling a burning path to where his pants hung low on his hips. Then before Cian could decide whether he wanted to get fully naked or tease Mitch for a while, Mitch was on his knees, pulling Cian’s pants down and caressing his almost fully erect cock with his lips.

  “Holy fuck, Mitch.” Cian placed his hand on Mitch’s black hair, squeezing his fingers together carefully.

  Mitch’s reaction was instant. He took Cian’s dick deeper and brought his tongue into play. Cian was torn between the need to close his eyes so he could lose himself in the sensations and fixing his gaze on the sight he’d never grow tired off: Mitch, on his knees, as if he was worshipping Cian’s cock.