Page 234 of Off the Pitch

“Félix then.”

“Yeah, I, um, I think we are.”

“Think?” Nan asked.

“Well, I mean… we’ve never actually talked about it.” We were still blissfully ignoring the elephant in the room. Even if I had cleared out a load of space for him to put his stuff, and Ant had asked Félix what sort of food he liked so he could make meals we’d both enjoy. We just hadn’t talked about it.

She sighed exasperatedly, looking up at the ceiling and muttering “Lord give me strength,” under her breath. Then she turned to me, looking at me as if I was a complete and total moron. Which, to be fair, I might have been. “Men! I don’t understand why you can’t use your words. Your grandfather was exactly the same - and both my brothers. Your father is too. I swear, I’ve had this conversation more times in my life than is necessary. Is it really that hard for you to talk to each other?”

“No?”

“Exactly. Perhaps if you spent more time thinking with your brain instead of what’s in your trousers, then things would be clearer.”

“Nan!”

“Don’t you ‘Nan’ me, Jordan Green. Am I saying anything that isn’t true?”

“N-no,” I said, slumping in my chair and admitting defeat. This hadn’t been the conversation I’d been envisioning.

“Well, then send your handsome friend Félix a message, and invite him to dinner so I can meet him properly.” She gave me a victorious smile and then leant back in her chair. “And perhaps you could make me a cup of tea too. There’s some ginger cake in the tin.”

“Fine, but I’m the one who’s injured here,” I joked. “I thought your physio said you were supposed to move your leg and arm to help with your recovery?”

“So you don’t want any cake then?”

“I never said that.” I heaved myself out of the chair and hobbled into the kitchen. Technically, out of the two of us, I was the more mobile, so I wasn’t surprised I’d been relegated to tea duty. Although her stroke hadn’t been too serious, Nan still struggled with the muscles in her left arm and leg. Dad said the physio was pleased with her progress, but her recovery was definitely going to be slower than my own.

As I waited for the kettle to boil, I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my hoodie to message Félix. He was spending the day with his nieces, so I wasn’t sure he’d be free, but if my grandma knew I hadn’t asked then I’d never hear the end of it.

JordanAny chance you’ll be free for dinner this evening?

JordanMy grandma wants to meet you

JordanShe called you my handsome friend

JordanAnd yeah, she figured out we’re together

JordanAlso, are we dating? Idk if we ever figured that out lol

I pulled out two plates and opened the battered, green cake tin on the kitchen table, my stomach rumbling noisily as the rich sent of sticky ginger cake flooded my nostrils. It was a whole one too, and I did a tiny dance as I grabbed a knife to cut two pieces before sneakily cutting an extra bit to eat while the kettle boiled. I was trying very hard not to think about Félix’s answer. Because yeah, if you looked at it objectively, we’d been dating for months. I mean he lived at my house, Ant cooked for both of us, we hung out all the time, we had alotof sex, and he’d flown halfway across the world for me.

We were very fucking clearly dating, and that was before I considered my feelings for him.

We’d just never actually bothered to confirm it.

FélixDinner sounds wonderful. At your house?

FélixLol I suppose we haven’t. Wanna be my boyfriend?

JordanWhat are you twelve?!

JordanAnd yeah, I do x

FélixGood because I want that too x

JordanCool

FélixNow whose twelve?

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