“Why do you care what a twenty-year-old thinks?”
He sulks, running his finger along the rim of his pint glass. “I found some grey in my hair today, Theo …” he whispers as though it were a secret.
“They’ve been there a while, buddy.” I tap my beard. “Here too.”
His eyes widen and he opens his mouth to argue.
“How’s it going, lads?” My cousin cuts in as she walks towards us. The light-blue knitted jumper she’s wearing makesher bright copper hair stand out more than usual against her fair complexion.
I look down at the dark hair on my tanned arm, grateful I got my dad’s genes. No way I’d be able to survive working on the boats if I were that pale.
Robbie scrambles out of his seat and pulls Isla into a bear hug, kissing her cheek. “Drink?” he asks her.
“Excuse me? You didn’t offer me a drink,” I say.
“I didn’t take you for the jealous type, Theo,” he says, hopping onto my lap before I can stop him. He slips his arms around my neck and pecks my cheek. “Would you like a drink, sweetheart?”
“Get off.” I push the heavy bastard until he’s back on his feet. “IPA, please,” I mutter, wiping the kiss off my cheek.
He winks at me then turns to Isla.
“Whatever cider they have on tap, please, Robbo,” she tells him, and then slips into the booth as he heads off to the bar.
“So?” she asks.
“So what?”
She pokes my arm. “How’d the date with Rachel go?”
“It was … okay, I guess.”
“And a second date?”
“No, I?—”
“More excuses, Theo? Bloody hell. There’s always something wrong with them,” she sighs, and starts counting on her fingers. “One talked too much, one talked too little. One giggled too much, one was too serious. One chewed with her mouth open, and one refused to eat seafood.” She looks at me pointedly. “I could go on …”
“Please don’t.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t want to say you’re fussy, but?—”
“What are we talking about?” Robbie interrupts, carefully putting down three pint glasses.
“Goldilocks over here, and his total lack of motivation to date,” Isla says, pulling the glass of cider to her lips.
Robbie points at me. “You need to get out more.”
Great, two against one, just like it’s been since we were kids. “I don’t want to. There hasn’t been enough time for me to get to know anyone past a first date,” I lie.
“Just take them on a second date!” Isla splutters. “Surely it’s easier to take the same woman on a second date than it is to find a new woman to go on a first date?”
“You at least need to get laid more; maybe you wouldn’t be so grumpy.” Robbie smirks behind his pint.
“I don’t care about that.” Unlike him, I don’t enjoy one night stands; can’t even remember the last time I tried. It’s never worked anyway. It takes me too long to get to a point where I can see myself taking things further with someone. I’m not willing to let someone get close enough to learn about my past, and I don’t want someone sleeping over and finding out about my nightmares or hearing how I cry out in the middle of the night.
There’s so much I haven’t told them; I can see why it looks like I’m just refusing to settle down. They don’t even know I’m bisexual because I refuse to date another man since?—
“Can we move on?” I growl.
