Page 21 of Love Punch

“I’ll be offended if you do. Just come back for another and I’ll charge you double.” The barman laughed, but it was more of a wheeze. However, it brought a smile to Bradley’s face and for that I was grateful. We made our way over to a table next to a tiny window and sat in silence for a while.

“Is it bad,” asked Bradley after a minute, “that I couldn’t remember what you have to drink?”

“Not your job,” I said simply.

“I know. It’s your job to know everything about me. But I wish I did know more about you. It feels wrong to know so little about someone I spend all my time with.”

“Never know, now you’re done with boxing, you might not spend so much time with me,” I said. It was meant as a joke, but neither of us laughed.

“Arthur, you matter to me,” said Bradley. “As…so much more than an assistant.”

“I do believe my job title isexecutiveassistant,” I teased.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Bradley reached over and grabbed my hand before I could reach for my pint. “I mean…”

I froze with his hand covering my mind before I could think of how to respond. Iwantedto know what he meant, but I was afraid. I wantedBradley, and as far as I could tell, there was no reason in life for him to want anything more with me.

It seemed that Bradley finally found his words and he opened his mouth to speak—only to be interrupted by my phone. Bradley closed his mouth and I cursed whoever-it-was’s poor timing. I pulled my phone from my pocket and scowled.

“Everything okay?” Bradley asked.

“It’s my Dad,” I said, a solemn tone to my voice. “Be right back.”

I waited until I was outside before I answered. “Can I help you?”

“Artie, it’s your father. I was just after a little favour, after how you let them treat me the other day. See, your mum needs some money for a taxi later and—”

I jabbed the red button and switched my phone to silent. When I stepped back into the pub, there were two full pints on my side, and Bradley had almost finished his first.

“All okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” I muttered, a little more harshly than I’d intended. “Dad stuff.”

“Is he alright? You look upset.”

“He isfine,” I said. “You got another pint?”

“Jeremiah insisted we needed another, despite you not having a sip of yours.”

“I’m driving, Bradley. And I don’t even like lager.” I took a sip of my pint as if to prove a point, or as if to try and make myself like it. But I couldn’t help the expression that crossed my face. I pushed one of the pints over to him. “I’ll have one. To be polite.”

I grabbed my phone again when it buzzed in my pocket. My father had sent the longest text of his life. I scanned through it.Mother…needs taxi…doctor’s appointment…not doing well.

I sighed, logged into my online banking quickly and sent over the smallest amount I could to get them through. Mum wasn’t ill—she never was. But I didn’t want to be the son who one day didn’t send anything through to his parents when they needed it.

“Sorry. I’m back. Family stuff.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bradley asked, voice laced with concern.

I tried to get the words out, but couldn’t. I steeled myself and took a sip of the horrible pint. “Peachy.”

Bradley looked concerned, but didn’t push it. “So, Mr. Assistant, what have you got planned for me this week?”

I smiled. This I could do. This I was happy with. Guiding Bradley meant I didn’t have to focus on me so much.

Chapter 11

Bradley

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