“After all, I need to be a godfather slash uncle. I think the term is ‘guncle’.” “Guncle?” “Abbreviated, ‘gay uncle’.”

“Guys hung out all the time. It didn’t mean they were gay. But when you are gay, you automatically think everybody knows and wonder if you’re safe.”

“Women and gay guys always get stuck with that image that they couldn’t possibly be interested in the game itself—it had to be the guys. I mean sure it’s a fringe benefit but when the game is on the last thing you’re thinking about is the bodies of the men. You’re concentrating on that red leather oval ball and if it will make it between the triad of poles that will either signify glory or failure.”

“It's just going to add to him thinking that I am a crazy, wanky, greenie, hybriddriving hippie," I complained."Has he seen your bomb of a car?" Fran asked in disbelief. "Greenpeace arranges a protest every time it leaves your driveway.”

“I would never have broken up with you," I said earnestly. "I'm more miserable without you than I am with you." As soon as that sentence came out I groaned, because I knew how bad it sounded.But Declan laughed. "Vintage Simon Murray comment.”

“I guess “rut” isn’t the right word. A rut is something you subconsciously want to get out of. The thing is, when I admitted it to myself, I was happy. Happy happy happy. And that’s a good thing.”

“The doorbell rang, and I assumed it was Fran and Roger having come back because they had forgotten something. I took my time, lacing my boots, and the buzzer became more impatient.“I’m coming, shithead!” I yelled. Yes, I should have known better. For of course, it was not Roger or Fran. I threw open the door to find Declan Tyler standing there, looking half-insulted and half-amused.“Got a pet name for me already?” he asked.”