“‘Ey, howsagoin’?”
John-Francis was loitering in the shadows, hands in pockets. Those grey eyes of his bored into me and I hated how much I enjoyed having them on me.
“All finished up wi’ y’girl already, like?” I muttered tersely, striding past him. “And I’d thought ya quick the other night.”
It was a low blow, but I couldn’t help it. I was smarting and I didn’t make a habit out of letting people hurt me and get away with it.
“Oi, feck off, like,” John-Francis snapped, though I could sense a ripple of mirth in his tone. He followed behind me, keeping a safe distance that was far enough not to attract unwanted attention, but closer than I’d usually allow a stranger.
As we arrived beside the bonfire, I made a beeline for a table stacked high with crates of beer and lager, snatching a tinnie and cracking it open. John-Francis waited for me, falling in step beside me once more as I returned to where I’d come from.
“Not joinin’ the party, now?” he asked.
“Nah, not in the mood.”
There was a tense silence, just the noise of our footsteps on the gravel. John-Francis cleared his throat.
“Y’pissed wi’ me, aye?”
“Nah,” I lied, taking a sip from my can. “No need ta be. Y’can ride who y’want ta. Was a wee bit surprised y’go both ways, but that’s no business of mine, like.”
Another silence.
“Aye, not so sure I do, now.”
I stumbled, catching my foot on the back of the other. It was too dark to see clearly, but I glanced across at John-Francis with a bitter laugh.
“Could o’ fooled me, like.”
“Is that not the point?” he replied. “Wee settled was makin’ a move an’ I needed ta play along, like. Y’know how it is, aye? Me mates… They’re not like me.”
I scoffed. “Ah, f’sure. Y’looked ta be hatin’ it, fella.”
John-Francis reached out and grasped my arm, halting me. I turned back to look at him.
“Get ya head outta ya hole f’five minutes, aye?” he muttered. “I’m tryin’ ta make good wi’ ya.”
I fixed him with a stare. “Why?”
He didn’t answer me, but when his eyes dropped to my mouth seemingly of their own accord, I felt like I could jump right out of my skin. There it wasagain, that fucking tension that made it hard to breathe, hard to think… I hated that I couldn’t even be angry with him without that familiar heat creeping its way through my body.
“Go on,” I said, voice barely above a whisper, daring him to take the step he was holding back from.
“Nah,” John-Francis mumbled. “It’d be too complicated, like.”
“More than shiftin’ wi’ a wee feckin’ settled hoor?”
“Aye.” He forced himself to turn away, running a hand through his hair. “That’d be meanin’ nothin’ ta me, now. Less than nothin’.” John-Francis’s gaze drifted back to me, and I could feel the intensity of it even through the dim light.
Would kissing me somehow be admitting what we both knew already?
I shook myself off and turned away. “Grab yourself a wee tinnie or somethin’ aye? I’d not be mindin’ y’company if ya up ta givin’ it, like.”
John-Francis jogged back to the party, grabbing himself a drink as instructed before returning to me.
“I was drinkin’ outside me gaff, but me ma and cousin are likely ta be back soon,” I said.
“Y’wanna call by me place instead, aye? Might be a wee bit less complicated t’ explain.”
