I flitted my gaze to another man who had joined us, one I didn’t recognise, one who looked like he wasn’t there to party or have fun. He was tall but stocky, his hair shaved, giving it a texture that looked like velvet.
He saw me looking at him and headed over, nodding at a couple of other people as he passed.
“Jameson Kearney.” My name felt dirtied coming off his lips.
“Who’s asking?’
He grinned, but it didn’t make him look any better. “Your brother’s causing us issues. Tell him we need to know where Ash is, so he can make his payment.”
“I don’t have a brother.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Step-brother then. Just tell him.”
“No.” My jaw clenched. “You’re mistaking me for someone who gives a shit about Marcus. I don’t even know when I’ll see him again – whenever I do, it’ll be too soon.”
There was a shrug, and a brief shake of the head before he walked off, leaving me feeling like someone had just opened a door to a cool, draughty place that then chilled us all.
He didn’t look back at me, just bumped the fist of someone else and headed away.
“This is for you.” Monty was back, handing me a shot glass. “What did Jerome want?”
“Jerome?”
“The man talking to you.”
“How do you know him?”
Monty frowned. “He deals. I’ve seen him about in a couple of clubs since I’ve been here. Nothing too full on, and he’s apparently the guy to go to for the best shit.” He held up his shot. “Ready?”
I nodded, and knocked back the firewater, feeling the burn as it cascaded down my throat, the alcohol feeling like it swamped my system already.
Monty laughed and took my hand, muttering words and phrases that didn’t really register. I laughed back, Jerome or whatever his name was fading to the back of my mind, trying to be here in the now, in the present and not lost in thoughts that didn’t need to consume me.
Later on,after another couple of shots and what felt like a river’s worth of water, I headed to the bathroom, feeling grateful for the chance to escape Monty’s attention for a few minutes.
I passed through the crowd that had more than doubled in size, weaving my way through a mesh of bodies. The corridor to the bathrooms was darker, mirrored on one wall, not that it made much difference to what you could see because of the lack of light.
I wasn’t aware of anyone watching me; wasn’t aware of anyone waiting, and looking back later, I didn’t think he had been.
The feeling of the weight of a hand on my shoulder made me jerk, startled. I turned around, fist clenched, ready to hit, but as soon as I saw who it was, I relaxed. Relaxed as much as I could when my body remembered earlier.
“You didn’t say you had a boyfriend.”
Tommy’s words were quiet, but they cut.
“I don’t.”
“The way he was kissing you said otherwise.”
“This is the first time. We haven’t…” I stopped. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t. But you surprise me. Kissing two men in one day. I didn’t think that was your style.”
It wasn’t. But I didn’t like how he knew that.
“I’m surprised you care.” He was facing me now, his hands by his sides. He wore dark jeans and a shirt, one tight enough to show exactly what size his biceps were.
My centre pulsed. I wanted to touch him again, to put my hand on his chest and feel his heat, to know what his muscles felt like under that material.
