Page 8 of Love Punch

“Fuck, those smell good,” I said, gesturing to the cookies.

“I know I said I was off the clock, but if I do give them to you Jase will have my testicles in a vice,” said Arthur. And then he nudged them closer.

“I hate you,” I lied.

“I know. But I’ll bake a batch for after your fight.” Arthur reached over to the remote and with my heart hammering against my ribcage I knew it was time for part one of my confession.

“Can we talk a second?” I asked just before he pressed play.

“Sure. What’s up?” Arthur turned to face me, and I felt as if his eyes were looking deep into my soul.

I hesitated. I was about to admit what only Jason knew so far. “This is going to be my last fight. I want to go out on Saturday, win, and retire.”

“What?” Arthur seemed shocked. “You’re joking, right? You’re always winning.”

“And I want to keep it that way. I’ve seen way too many older boxers lose it. And some who are really seeing the effects of so many hits to the head as they age. No, not for me. I’m retiring after this fight.”

Arthur went quiet for a second, then turned away. I thought he was grabbing another cookie, but he made no effort to do anything. “So, I guess you won’t be needing me anymore.”

Ah.That. “I will,” I said. “I’m not skipping off into the sunset. I still need someone to keep me in line.”

“I won’t outstay my welcome because you think I need a job. I can stand on my own two feet.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm, but he didn’t move away from my touch. “Believe me, Arthur. I need you.”

His eyes met mine again. Those deep grey pools that could make me do anything he asked. “I know.” He gave me a weak grin that I didn’t believe. “What are you going to do when it’s all over?”

“I don’t know, I have a PA who’s supposed to fill my diary for me.”

“Then I’ll give you a week off. After that, you’ll be scrubbing the floors until I can see my face in them. That clear?”

I laughed and Arthur finally gave me a genuine smile. Then he moved his arm subtly away from me, turned the film on and the moment was gone.

“Watch this,” he whispered. “You might learn something.”

I knew Arthur didn’t like talking during films: he had once told me that heabhorredit. I assumed that abhorred meantlikeuntil I Googled it after talking through a film for three hours. So, I sat back and watched the film. It took me a minute to understand exactly what was going on but by the time I turned to look at Arthur, he was asleep over the opposite arm of the sofa, dangerously close to the cookies. I moved them off the sofa and onto the floor, allowing myself a quick sniff of the gooey deliciousness on the plate, then sat back to watch a chick flick all by myself.

After an hour, I was enjoying the film. Until Arthur decided to interrupt that enjoyment by shifting in his sleep, now resting his head on my shoulder. A couple of minutes later, he shifted to my chest. Then slid down to my lap without waking. He was breathing softly, and I let myself put one hand on his shoulder,stroking his hair with the other. Was that creepy? I didn’t know. But having Arthur laying there just felt right.

I couldn’t focus on the rest of the film. I managed to gently place a pillow under his head so that I didn’t get hard with my employee’s head in my lap—especially with the rules Jason liked to put in place before a fight. I was sure what we were doing was all kinds of wrong, but I didn’t want it to stop. Hopefully, after my last fight, I could confess everything. And hopefully, he’d be receptive to the idea of something between us. I was sure I’d seen it in him. But I needed to do things right.

The credits rolled, and I manoeuvred myself so I was out from beneath Arthur. For a second, I considered leaving him there. But no matter how comfortable the sofa I couldn’t do that to him. So, I looped my hands under him and carried him bridal style out of the cinema room and through the house.

“S’appnin?” he mumbled without opening his eyes.

“Just taking you to bed,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

He didn’t reply, so I carried him down the hallway and to the door that led to his little apartment. It wasn’t the easiest process to open the door without jostling him, but I managed.

His apartment at the back of my house was small and sparsely furnished, and I navigated the darkness to his bedroom, I realised I’d hardly been in the place in three years. Arthur always entered my space, not the other way round. I’d even considered offering him the bedroom next to mine, but didn’t want things to get awkward if he ever wanted to bring a guy round. Or I did. That hadn’t happened in years, either, but this space gave Arthur his privacy.

I laid him down gently on his bed and did my best to wrap the duvet around him so he didn’t get cold. “Love you,” he mumbled as I successfully burritoed him into the covers. My heart pounded. He probably had no idea who I was in that moment. I was just a kind force keeping him warm.

Still, I couldn’t resist. So as I closed the door behind me, certain I wouldn’t wake him up, I whispered the words I’d been keeping inside for so long. “I love you too, Arthur.”

Chapter 4

Arthur

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