“Talking isn’t really my style.”
“I hear it’s in fashion.”
Dylan burst out laughing. “That’s probably the funniest thing you’ve ever said.”
Hunter looked nonplussed by the backhanded compliment. “It’s up to you.”
“It’s fine. Go dance.”
Hunter stared at Dylan.
“All right, it’s not fine.” Dylan’s shoulders slumped. “I was an arsehole and chased Tattoo Boy away and now I feel like shit.”
“I take it you mean Callum?”
“That’s what I said.”
Hunter pointed down the road. “There’s some benches round the corner.”
They walked to the bottom of the road and turned right, past some takeaway shops with bright signs and delicious smells wafting out their doors, up some stone steps into a small green area attached to a church. It was a little eerie away from the lights of the main road, but Dylan felt safe with Hunter; the guy was big enough to scare anyone who tried to bother them in the dark.
“What happened?” Hunter asked, once they’d settled on a bench.
Dylan stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “I set my sights on a conquest and didn’t take no for an answer, like a complete and utter dick.” It was the most honest statement Dylan had made out loud in a long time.
Hunter nodded but didn’t say anything, which was fairly frustrating. Not that Dylan knew what he wanted his friend to say. Did he want Hunter to berate him or make him feel better? Normally he would have said he was waiting for some kind of affirmation that he hadn’t been horrible, but he knew he didn’t deserve that.
“It gets worse,” he mumbled.
“How?”
“I teased him about his sexuality.” Dylan looked up, blinking. There was a new moon hanging in the inky sky, with wisps of clouds passing over it.
“Oh.”
“You can roast me about it now,” Dylan said. “Tell me I’m a jackass.”
“It sounds like you know you are.”
“Thanks.”
Hunter shrugged. “You’re welcome?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel better?”
“No. I wanted to make sure you were okay, there’s a difference.”
Dylan knocked the side of his foot against the leg of a bench. “I don’t mean to be a jerk. I get carried away sometimes.”
“Generally, with guys you fancy,” Hunter observed. “Take Jag. You rub him up the wrong way on a daily basis.”
Dylan snorted. “I don’t fancy Jag.” He squirmed under Hunter’s intense stare. “Okay, I wouldn’t say no if I got the chance to fuck him, but he’s with Michael. Anyway, your theory is wrong.”
“Oh?”
“I’m always on my best behaviour around Jared, and I definitely wanted to get in his pants.” He sighed. “I still do, but they’re not up for a threesome.”
Hunter chuckled. “You act like an idiot around him too.”
