“What you said last night—”
“I was out of line,” Dylan said quickly.
“Maybe…”
The trouble was Callum hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He’d dreamt about Dylan drinking the blowjob cocktail, which had surprised and confused him. His head was even more of a mess than it had been before.
“I could do with someone to talk to,” he said eventually, surprised that Dylan had been waiting, in silence, so patiently. “Not now,” he added hurriedly.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d suggested it, or whether or not Dylan was the right person to talk to, but he was short on options. For some reason, he hadn’t been able to mention his confusion to Ezra over dinner.
“We could go for a coffee tomorrow?” Dylan suggested. “Although I won’t be awake before twelve.”
Callum laughed. “Don’t worry, nor will I.”
It had been closer to one when he’d woken up the day before. Working until three in the morning had really taken it out of him, and he hadn’t been dancing. He could only imagine how tiring it was for Dylan and the other dancers.
Dylan’s gaze lingered on Callum’s face for a few seconds before he looked away. “There’s a cute coffee shop on Boar lane, near the train station. We could meet there at two?”
“Okay.”
Dylan saluted Callum. “Tomorrow.”
He headed to the stage door, standing taller than when he’d entered the bar and he had his swagger back. For some reason, that made Callum smile.
* * *
Dylan was waiting outside of the coffee shop when Callum arrived, which was helpful as there were at least two others on the same stretch of road.
“It’s my turn to buy the drinks,” Dylan said, once they’d found a table for two at the back of the packed shop. “What can I get you?”
“An Americano, please.”
Callum waited while Dylan went to get the drinks, wondering for the hundredth time since the previous night if he really could talk to the guy or if he was making a huge mistake. It didn’t help that he kept replaying Molly’s phone call over in his head. Although he was in a different city, he couldn’t help but wonder what she would think if she walked into the coffee shop and saw him talking to a guy wearing makeup. She’d be angry and disgusted, and he hated her for it, but he hated himself more for realising that he would be bothered by her reaction.
He glanced over at the counter, where Dylan was waiting for their drinks. He was wearing a lot of makeup, including false eyelashes and thick black eyeliner that made his brown eyes pop. His eyeshadow was gold at the inside corners of his eyes, blending to blue by the time they reached the middle. The apples of his cheeks had a glow about them, which made him look cheerful. He must have noticed Callum staring because he suddenly met his gaze and grinned. It was a cheerful action, not a lusty one, which Callum was grateful for.
“Here you go,” Dylan said when he arrived back at the table a few minutes later. “One grande Americano.”
He put a gigantic mug in front of Callum. “If I drink all this, I’m going to be on a caffeine high all day.”
Dylan shrugged. “It’ll get you through a Friday night shift at Heaven and Hell.”
“Why? What’s wrong with Friday nights?”
Dylan laughed and pointed. “Your face is a picture right now. Nothing’s wrong with Friday nights, they’re just crazy busy. Good for the dancers, but you poor saps behind the bar will be rushed off your feet all night.”
“Oh.” Callum stared at his black coffee. He wasn’t sure he was ready for a busy night. Drinking a gallon of coffee no longer seemed like a bad idea. “How long have you worked there?”
“About eighteen months.”
“You like it?”
Dylan grinned. “Iloveit. Dancing on stage is electrifying.”
Callum pinched his lips. “What about the stripping?”
“Darling, that’s one of the best bits. That’s not me flirting by the way,” Dylan said as he stirred sugar into his coffee. “I call everyone darling.”
