“Me too.”
They sat in silence for a while. Steven had had flings before and even a serious love affair with a physio. Yet, nothing had felt like this. Something about Udo made Steven totally relaxed.
“I was sad about the way my career ended,” Steven said. “No one wants to go out with an injury.”
Udo raised his head and stared into Steven’s eyes. “That’s a fear of mine. I’d rather leave on a high.”
“Do you think Brockton will be your last club?”
“Totally. I’m thirty-four. I’ve got two good years in me at best. I know I could spin it out a few more but you’d sell me to some shitty club.”
“I wouldn’t,” Steven replied, stroking Udo’s shoulder.
“There we have a conflict of interest already.”
“It’s not my decision.”
“You can influence it.”
Steven didn’t like the direction of the conversation. He was happy to talk about football. He had no intention of talking about management policy at Brockton.
“What will you do? When you retire.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“I can tell you now that I won’t.”
Udo blushed, which piqued Steven’s interest all the more.
“I don’t want to work in football, that’s for sure.”
“Wow. Okay.”
Most players either went into coaching or were pundits on television. It was rare for them to take a leap of faith. After all, footballers had lived and breathed the game since childhood.
“I want to write.”
“Interesting. What kind of writing?”
Udo shrugged. “Maybe fiction. I’m tempted to blow the world of football wide open.”
Panic flashed through Steven’s system. Was this a research mission for Udo? Would Steven find his private life in a book one day?
“What’s the matter?” Udo asked.
“Nothing. I hope you won’t be featuring us in your books.”
Udo frowned. “Of course not. Don’t you know that you can trust me?”
Steven shifted so his legs were wrapped around Udo. He kissed him.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he replied and he meant it. “Just keep me out of it, yeah?”
“I promise.”
Udo ran his fingertips down Steven’s flanks, making him shudder. The man had a magical touch.
“Have you written before?”