“Show me,” I say.
“Fine, but fair warning, you’ll want to fuck me.”
It’s already been established that I do. “A single look doesn’t have the power to do that.”
Lando takes a few steps back and stares into my eyes. Then he slowly, achingly slowly, sweeps over my body with his gaze. His eyes are so dark in the bar’s dim lighting that they appear to be black. He brings his gaze up to meet mine again. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, then he bites his lip and smiles, and if it weren’t for the fact he’d forewarned me about his plan, I would have fallen hook, line, and sinker for it and would be snogging his face off right now.
“I stand corrected,” I say. “Wanna come back to mine?”
“It’s good, huh?” he says, still maintaining the few feet of space between us. “Now you try.”
He has me practise several times before he’s happy with my performance. I’m not complaining. Each time I get to drink in more of this beautiful man and my body floods itself with endorphins. There’s something so incredibly pleasing about the way he’s put together. It’s like watching the Six Nations, or gawping at baby animals in the zoo. I don’t want to not be looking at him.
“Now we practise on an unsuspecting stooge. Back to step one, identify your target,” he says, finally closing the gap.
“But what if it doesn’t work?”
“We’ll keep trying until it does.”
“What if itdoeswork?”
Lando laughs. “Then you can either get a handy in the bathroom, or get his number and never text him.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. If I go to the bathroom with him, will you wait for me?”
“Of course. What are friends for?”
I point to a guy on the dance floor. “What about him?”
“Not him.” Lando gently pulls my hand back to my side. “He literally lives here. If you hit on him, chances are you’ll see him again, and it’ll be awkward as fuck.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
He doesn’t answer, he simply pivots me by about forty-five degrees. “That guy’s cute. A good starter gay for you.”
Lando isn’t wrong. The new guy is pretty cute. He’s slim with olive skin and dark curly hair, not unlike my tutor’s, or indeed Lionel’s.
“Fine. Sure.”
“I’ll be monitoring your progress. There are prizes on the line if you win.”
I can’t tell whether he’s joking. “How do I know if I’ve won?”
“You get off with him.” Lando begins ticking things off on his fingers. “You swap numbers, or he gives you his. He lets you buy him a drink, or he buys you one. Or you leave together and make sweet, sweet music.”
“Oh, fuck off.” I slap his arm. “Okay, well, here goes nothing.”
I walk a few paces towards Random New Guy, and make sure I’m keeping my eyes trained on him. He doesn’t look over at me. When I check over my shoulder, Lando flashes me a shooing gesture, waving his hands downwards. I stop about two metres away from the new guy, and the friend he’d been chatting with leaves. He looks up and catches my gaze, but shit . . . I’ve totally forgotten what the next steps were.
Shit, shit, shit.
New Guy glances over his shoulder. There’s a concerned furrow to his brow, like he knows I know I’m fucking this up.
“Uh . . . hi,” I say. Fuck Lando’s nonverbal cues. “I’m Harry. Uh . . .”
The guy stares at me, but not in the lust-filled way Lando promised me he would. His shoulders are hunched, and honestly, it looks like he’s angling his body towards the fire escape ready to make a run for it.
Fuck, I’m so bad at this. “I . . . I think you’re cute.”
