“Oh, it does, in my dreams, frequently,” Dylan assured him. “You’re so hot.” He jerked his thumb at Callum. “Not quite as hot as Tattoo Boy here, but you’ll do.”
Jared shook his head. “You really are awful sometimes.”
“Only sometimes? I’m going to have to try harder.” He put his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want some dance lessons? I’m an excellent teacher.”
Callum’s cheeks became so hot he thought he might spontaneously combust. “No. Thanks.”
Dylan shrugged and walked away, swaying his hips and jiggling his shoulders in time to the music before he reached the dance floor.
“You really will get used to him,” Jared promised.
“He’s got no brain to mouth filter,” Kyrone said. “So take everything he says with a pinch of salt and don’t let it get to you.”
Callum nodded.
“Who are we talking about?” Jag asked as he returned to the table. He was glistening with sweat and had a bottle of water in his hand.
“Dylan,” Kyrone said. “He’s been teasing Callum.”
Jag rolled his eyes and then emptied the bottle of water over his head, splashing them all in the process. “He can be a jerk, but he’s generally a well-meaning one.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s better. It’s boiling in here tonight.” He sat down next to Callum. “Are you three going to sit here all night, or are you joining us on the dance floor?”
“It’s good to see you having fun,” Kyrone said. “I mean that,” he added in a more serious tone.
Callum knotted his eyebrows together, searching for the meaning behind Kyrone’s words. They were rooted in things beyond his limited knowledge of the men he was with, and another stark reminder that, no matter how nice they were being to him, he wasn’t part of their friendship circle.
“I can’t dance,” Callum said. “But you three should go.”
Jared’s lips pinched in concern. “Are you sure? It doesn’t feel right to leave you alone.”
“Go,” Callum reiterated. “I’ll watch everyone’s drinks.”
“It doesn’t matter if you can dance or not,” Kyrone said. “No one cares. Everyone’s just having a good time.” He stood and swayed rhythmically. Even that small movement was beautiful. “See? There’s not much to it. Just feel the music and move your body.”
Callum shook his head. “I’ll take care of the drinks.”
He kept smiling as the three guys moved away from the table onto the dance floor, quickly vanishing into the throng of people. He drank his pint slowly, occasionally scanning the dance floor for any sign of the group.
He’d just finished his drink and put it down on the table, when Dylan reappeared.
“Perfect timing. I’m parched.” He was sweaty, his eyeshadow was smudged, and his mascara had run down his cheeks slightly. “I’m desperate for a drink.” He sat down next to Callum.
“I could get you some water?”
“Nah, I need something much stronger than that.” He pressed his tongue into his cheek, distorting it in a suggestive manner. “I’d like a blow job.”
Callum’s eyes bugged out of his head.
Dylan cackled with laughter. “Don’t look so alarmed. It’s a cocktail. You should get yourself one.”
Callum tried to get his expression under control.
“You’re strictly a beer guy, aren’t you?Cocktails are more fun.”
Callum breathed in slowly, remembering what Kyrone had said. Dylan was trying to wind him up, and he was doing too good a job of letting him.
“One blow job coming up,” he said as casually as he could. “Watch the table?”
Dylan saluted him. “Aye, aye, captain.”
