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He brings the pads back up. Jab, cross, left hook. I put a bit too much into the last one, and he gives me a warning grunt. “Easy.”

“Aye. Sorry.”

We reset.

Yesterday, with Briony’s hand in mine, our wee agreement seemed like a no-brainer. I wanted her, she wanted me, so why not?

Then I went home and had time to think about what I’d just signed up for, and that’s when the doubts crept in. Because there’s a reason I don’t date.

“Might no work out anyway,” I say.

“How come?”

I shrug.

“Christ, Ryan. You’re a real fucking chatterbox today, aren’t you?”

“We’re just…different.” I hit the pads. Davie backs up a pace, making me follow.

“And what’s wrong wi’ that?”

“She grew up wi’ this nice, normal family. Went to a private school. All that stuff. And I…”

When I trail off, Davie prompts, “You…?”

“You know.”

“You were a cheeky wee gobshite wi’ an attitude problem? Lad, I think she knows. You’ve not changed that much.”

“Remind me why you’re my coach?”

“Look. Does she know a bit about your background?”

“I mentioned my maw. Said she was an addict.”

“And how did Briony take that? Did she listen and nod and all that, or did she run away from you?”

“She didnae run away from me. She listened. Didnae make a big deal of it or push me for more. But⁠—”

“But nothing. That’s your answer. She likes you, lad. Don’t go inventing problems that don’t exist.”

I work through the next combination without responding. He lets me.

“I cannae stop thinking about her,” I say at last. “Cannae get her out of my head.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a problem?”

“You know how my maw gets. When she needs something, nothing else matters. Maybe I’ve got a bit of that in me. I don’t want to scare Briony off, but she’s got a busy week and cannae see me till Sunday, and the thought of not seeing her again till then? It’s fucking torture.”

Davie pauses mid-drill. “Let me get this straight. You think you’re…addicted to her?”

I lift one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Aw, son. She’s got you bad, eh?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re no addicted to her, you silly bastard. You like her. Properly. And since that’s new territory for you, you’re acting like a lovesick teenager.”

“We’ve only been on two dates,” I say, though I’m not sure whether I’m arguing with him or myself.

“Aye. She must be some lassie to have got you wound up like this.” Davie raises a pad. “Jab.”