Chez’s head rested heavily on Rob’s chest. Rob twined his fingers in Chez’s hair, stroking it lazily. It was damp with sweat. The big hotel room TV played Match of the Day, but Rob wasn’t sure Chez was watching it. He thought Chez might have gone to sleep.
But he was wrong. Chez moved suddenly, sitting up.
“Ow,” he said. “That’s giving me a crick in the neck.”
Chez plumped up the pillows and rested beside Rob, smiled at him, and took the hand Rob had been stroking his hair with. Then he settled against the pillows, pressed up against Rob. He looked so relaxed, so…content. All the tension he’d been carrying had vanished, leaving him looking younger, carefree.
“Chez,” Rob said, taking advantage of this relaxation and a break in the football for some punditry. “What did happen with Teo?”
