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“What's up mate?” I ask, prompting Archie to lift his head and eye Keegan with a look of concern.
“The news said you’re never ever playing football anymore.”
“Yeah, mate, I’m retiring. We talked about this, remember?”
“But what about me?” Keegan asks, frowning up at me. “Does this mean we can’t play football ever again?”
I offer a wide smile, relieved to have gotten to the source of what’s bothering him. “No, Keegs, of course not. It just means I won’t be playing at big stadiums anymore. Trust me, once my leg’s better we’ll have plenty of games in the park.”
Keegan beams, clearly relieved, then returns his attention to the movie, looking much more interested now.
“You know, Tom,” Courtney says as she comes in with cuppas for Archie and me, “this means you get to come sit in the WAG section now when you’re watching Archie’s games.”
I let out a groan, running a hand over my face. “Fucking hell.”
“Oh yeah they’re going to love you,” she continues, eyes glimmering with mirth. “Don't be surprised if a couple of them fight over you. They all want a gay bestie.”
Next to me, Archie is shaking with laughter so much his tea is in danger of slopping over the edge of the mug.
I send him an unimpressed look. “The things I do for you, Milligan.”
Archie
“Babe, I’m home!” I call out as I walk through the front door after arriving home from training.
Home—as inourhome. It was just Tom’s home, but I was practically living here while he recovered from his injury and it got to the point where it just made more sense for me to move in. And I’m proud to say that I have in fact learned how to wash my own clothes, and there have been only a couple of minor hiccups in that department in the roughly ten months that I’ve been here. Cooking is a completely different story, but fortunately Tom’s got that covered.
Tom comes striding down the hallway to greet me, looking slightly dishevelled; his hair is a bit of a mass, as though he’s been running his hand through it over and over, he hasn’t shaved—which I’m not complaining about, because he looks sexy as fuck with a bit of stubble—and his white t-shirt has smears of…something on it.
“You okay? I ask as he leans forward to brush a kiss to my cheek. “You look like you’ve spent the past two days partying with Coldplay.”
He arches a sceptical brow. “Do Coldplay party that hard?”
I shrug. “Well, no, I don’t think so. But you also don’t look that out of sorts. If your head was in the toilet I might have said Oasis, and if you were passed out cold, Led Zeppelin. Although, to be honest, if either of those situations were happening I’d be too worried to make music jokes.”
Tom’s lips quirk up in amusement and he holds up his hand to ward off further rambling on my part. “Yeah, okay, I get it. And don’t worry, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting you home--I thought I was going to pick you up?” He glances behind him, shifting his weight from one foot to another in a gesture that lets me know he’s nervous about something. Weird.
“Robbie dropped me home. I missed you. What’s going on? You’re being weird and I don’t like it.” I tell him bluntly.
He sighs. “Okay fine. Come with me.”
He leads me through the house to the back garden, and I let out a gasp when I see how the space has been transformed.
There’s a giant screen against one edge, and a half tent full of pillows and blankets, with a table that has a bottle of champagne sitting in ice and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries.
And as if that’s not enough, a touch of my elbow from Tom directs my attention to the little alfresco table on our patio, which is covered in a pristinely white table cloth and set for two.
“Just so you know, I was planning to look way more presentable for this,” Tom says, gesturing to himself. “Time just got away from me. Wait here, though, and I’ll go change.”
He starts to move away but I grab his hand. “Don’t you dare. You’re absolutely perfect, just like that.”
He smiles at me and leans in for a soft kiss. “How about a glass of wine?” he suggests. “Lunch will be ready in about half an hour.”
“Sounds like a great idea.”
He ducks inside for a moment and returns with a bottle of merlot, pouring each of us a glass. We clink glasses and I take a sip.
“So, why are we being all fancy today?”
