didn’t have to fight my way through a long line of suitors.”
“It’s their lunchtime,” I say solemnly. “They’ll be back at two.” When he laughs, I grin at him. “It’s bloody cold on the boat. April isn't exactly balmy this year.”
He shivers suddenly as if he’s just felt it. “Why is it so cold? Is it normally cold on boats? What do you do when it snows and what—”
“Oh my God,” I say loudly. “This is press intrusion at its best. Why don’t you thrust your microphone in my face while you’re at it?”
He winks. “I’ll keep my microphone to myself for the moment, Felix. A man must have some decorum and not just thrust it willy-nilly.”
“Is it because your microphone malfunctions?” I say sympathetically. “Because I’m sure it happens to a lot of men.”
He bites his lip. “Does it?”
I shrug. “Who fucking knows? I don’t hang around after microphone failure. I do have standards, you know.”
He returns to his original question like a heat-seeking missile. “Why is it so cold in here?”
I roll my eyes. “The boiler’s packed up. I’ve got a space heater, but it doesn’t give off enough warmth to heat a gnat’s chilly backside.”
He studies me and then grins widely. “This is perfect.”
“It’s perfect that I’m freezing to death? That’s quite heartless, Max.”
“No, I can fix the boiler for you. Saves you the cost of a plumber.”
“You’ll do what, now?” I ask warily and watch as he takes off his motorcycle jacket and the black jumper underneath it. “Wait. What are you doing?”
He rolls up the sleeves on his long-sleeve grey T-shirt. “I told you. I’m going to fix the boiler.”
“Is that after you get your plumbing qualifications?” I ask uneasily, following him as he makes his way unerringly to the little engine room. “Oh Max, you can’t do that,” I protest as he removes the boiler cover and looks at the innards with entirely strange enthusiasm.
He looks up. “Why not?”
“Well, you’re wearing a Gant T-shirt,” I say, eyeing the soft grey crewneck. “You’ll get mucky.” I pause. “Oh, and you don’t have any plumbing knowledge.”
“It’s lovely to watch your priorities in action. It’s quite fascinating.” He winks at me. “And how do you know I don’t have plumbing experience? Did you read my book, after all, Felix?”
“Of course not.” I sniff. “It’s holding up my table.”
He laughs, his teeth white in his stubbled face. “Well, I do know a lot about boilers. I like finding out about stuff like that. I love engines,” he says enthusiastically.
“I love Jaffa cakes. Doesn’t mean I can make or repair them.” I scratch my chin. “You really don’t have to do this. We’re not about that.”
“And what are we about?” He seems amused.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I have a hole. You have a dick. That’s it.”
“Wow, it’s like we’ve been written in the stars. Move over, Romeo and Juliet.” I huff with laughter, and he grabs my nape, kissing my cheek. “Relax. I just have a vested influence in not fucking someone who is attempting to be the world’s skinniest human ice cube.”
“That’s all right, then,” I say, relaxing slightly. Then I stiffen. “Wait. I’m not skinny.”
“No?”
“No. I am wiry and very fit.”
He starts to laugh. “You are as far away from being fit as Jacob Rhys-Mogg is from having a pleasant personality. You were puffing when you had to race to get to the bar at last call last night.” I glare at him until he finishes laughing. “Listen, it’s all good, Felix. I’ve repaired all sorts of engines and machinery. I wouldn’t be alive now if I couldn’t do that. I’ve repaired car engines in deserts and jungles and warzones. Now, do you have a pump plier?”
“Is that a sex toy?” I ask. “I’m afraid I’m a teeny bit vanilla, Max. I just have the one dildo and my hand.” I laugh as he makes flapping motions with his hands for me to move out of his way. “I’ll go and ask Rob, my neighbour. I usually just borrow tools off him.”
He shakes his head in disapproval, and I make my escape as he turns happily back to the recalcitrant boiler.
I lean against the wall when I’m out of his sight. It makes me uneasy to see him doing this for me. I dare say I’m being ridiculous. The man hasn’t proposed on bended knee. He’s just helping me out the way a mate would, with the added bonus of getting to stick his hands in