He shrugged. “Don’t feel like I’m missing anything. You ready?”
We were hitting up the Oxford bars, enjoying a touch of Christmas spirit, and as the only two single men in the party, we were each other’s wingman. I’d had a couple of nights out in Oxford; it was a student city, but different from Leeds or Sheffield, so I doubted I’d be coming back with anything but maybe a phone number I wouldn’t dial.
“Pretty much. Dad said he’ll drop us off, but we need to call a cab back.” Seph glanced outside. “Hopefully we won’t get any more snow. Payton offered to get us if we can’t call a cab, as long as it’s before midnight.”
“I don’t mind driving.” Drinking wasn’t something I was overly bothered about doing, not since one alcohol fuelled night when I’d induced the mother of all hangovers and a ring on my wedding finger. That was nine years ago. I’d been sent eight anniversary cards by my bride since then, all to wherever I was working, but she’d never thought to include her current address.
“Neither do I.” Seph frowned. “Does that mean we’re getting old?”
“Probably.”
There was a knock at the door which stopped us from questioning our impending loss of youth any further and Aunt Marie appeared wearing an expression that reminded me of my own mother.
“I have rules.” She looked from me to Seph.
“Mum, you realise we’re both in our fourth decade of being alive.” Seph raised a brow.
“I sometimes wonder how either of you have made it that far. Rule number one: you don’t bring anyone back here. Eliza does not need to be introduced to a random woman, and frankly, neither do I.” Her glare landed on me.
I nodded. I had no problem with that.
“Rule number two: don’t wake anyone up, especially small children, babies and pregnant women. Or me.” She punctuated the sentence by pointing at me.
“Rule number three: if you’re going home with someone you meet, remember what happened to Richard Rockley.” Her hands were on her hips now.
I looked at Seph. I had no idea what happened to Richard Rockley or even who he was.
Seph shook his head. “He was in the same school year as Ava. He went home with two girls one night who he met in a bar: they tied him up and had their wicked way with him, took photos and sent them to various people. They also lost the key of the handcuffs.” He shrugged.
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” I could live with that.
Marie just glared.
“We’ve got it, Mum. No girls back here, be quiet and if we go home with someone, check where they’re putting the key to the handcuffs.” Seph didn’t smile.
Neither did Aunt Marie.
There was a hungover feel to the bar’s atmosphere. Too much Christmas food, too much eggnog. People were smiling and laughing, but there was a sense that no one was up for anything large.
Including Seph.
“You’re scaring off any women so much as looking this way.” I passed him his second beer. “That girl over there’s been making eyes at you for the last twenty minutes. If you smile at her I bet she’ll come over.”
Seph glanced over at the pretty blonde who’d been trying to catch his eye. She looked pleasant enough and wasn’t giving off the bunny boiler vibes. Her friend was a tall brunette, big boobs and big eyes, a lethal combination and I’d given her plenty of smiles.
“Has she?”
“Jesus, Seph, have you forgotten how to live?”
He shook his head and looked over at her, giving that grin I’d seen at least five women melt under.
“You think her handcuffs work?” His words were muttered.
“She looks like she’d need educating in how to use handcuffs. Her friend does not.” The brunette looked like she could teach me a thing or two. “Let’s see if they’re thirsty.”
They stopped talking when we headed over to them, the blonde looking a little embarrassed when she saw Seph, her manner slightly shy.
“Can we get you a drink?” Seph’s charm level went straight to high.
