“Hanging around on street corners will get you into trouble.”
“Then you’ll have to save me.”
Noah leant forward and opened the door. “Hop in.”
The Range Rover was higher than the black cabs Carmine had been used to since returning to the UK. Even so, he managed to get in without any incident. The soft leather was warm and comforting.
“Hey,” Noah said.
The car smelt incredible. As Noah kissed Carmine on the cheek, Carmine realised Noah was exuding the aroma. The kiss sent tingles through Carmine’s system. Noah making it abundantly clear this was most certainly a romantic date. There would be no discussions on guttering or power points tonight.
“Looking good,” Carmine said, putting his seatbelt on.
Noah had a black shirt and black chinos on. It appeared that they clung to him although Carmine would have to wait until they got to their destination to check him out properly.
“Ready?”
“Of course. Where are we going?”
Noah winked. “All will be revealed.”
I certainly hope so.
Noah navigated the streets expertly. Carmine took the opportunity to watch him. His profile was strong. Noah had a jawline most models would kill for. His flawless light brown skin didn’t have one single blemish. Unlike Carmine, who had developed a spot that very morning. Thankfully a gallon of tea tree oil had seen the unwelcome visitor off. And some obscenely expensive concealer had covered its tracks.
“Sorry about the result,” Carmine said.
Noah raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were into ‘soccer’.”
He said the last word in a terrible American accent.
“I’m not. Let’s say I’m taking a personal interest in Brockton.”
“More like you wanted to know what kind of mood I was going to be in.”
Busted.
“Maybe.”
“I don’t sweat some losses. We’re hovering around the middle of the table and will stay there. We’re still very much in the FA Cup.”
“I’m pleased for you even if I have no idea what any of that means.”
“Talk to me about anything other than football, I beg of you,” Noah replied. “Tell me about your day.”
They chatted away as Noah drove out of town. Carmine told him about what his family were up to. Noah had met Stefano a few times and got on with him. It meant the world to Carmine’s family that Brockton still came to the restaurant. The walls were plastered with photos of players past and present. Carmine would have to check if Noah was up there.
Then to Carmine’s horror they parked up outside a bowling alley on a commercial estate.
“Are you kidding?”
“Not in the slightest. Don’t you like bowling?”
“It’s been many years since I played.”
Noah turned to him. “Then let’s see what happens.”
I won’t be the boring old fart. I won’t.
