A few hours before the club was supposed to open, Wynn dragged me down there to teach me to mix drinks himself. I hadn’t had the best training, only learning the standard menu, and all training had happened while on the clock, with a full club and people ordering continuously.

But being in the club with only Wynn, when it was light out and completely empty… that was something else altogether.

The guy who’d taught me had slapped the drink menu in front of me, told me to memorise it, and then I’d been thrown behind the bar. Adam always helped me out when I worked with him, and Cooper too to some degree, but the sheer number of drinks easily overwhelmed me.

Add to the fact that we didn’t just make drinks on the menu, but whatever drink people wanted as long as we had the right ingredients, and it was all a mess in my head.

But with Wynn as my teacher, I didn’t do half bad. Wynn was good at this, to the point he could even do some fancy throws with the bottles that I was never going to attempt.

“I’ve got a rule,” Wynn was saying as he mixed a fancy-looking drink. “If someone orders a drink that’s not on the main menu, and I’m unsure, I always dip a straw in to taste it. If it’s not right, it’s best to put it aside and mix a new one. Better that than getting complaints.” He sat four glasses in front of me, two regular glasses, the other two cocktail glasses. “Now, take a sip of all four. These are four of the drinks we get asked for the most that are not on the main menu.”

I wasn’t that fond of alcohol, but I dutifully did as he told me to. Three of the four tasted nasty, but the fourth wasn’t so bad.

He grinned. “I’ll teach you these four, then you’re going to mix every single drink on the regular menu for me.”

My eyes widened. “All of them? But…” I glanced behind me at the shelf of bottles. “Isn’t that going to be expensive? Wasting all that alcohol simply for me to learn to mix them all?”

“I wouldn’t do this for every employee, true. But for you it’ll be worth it.”

It was both flattering and disconcerting.

He leaned against the counter, watching me carefully. “You’re too nervous, that’s your problem. So, we’re going to nail all the regular drinks so they’re stuck in there.” He tapped my head gently. “If you’re confident about the drinks, about how to make them and that they’ll taste good, you’ll be more comfortable behind the bar, yeah? And only when you know the recipes from heart, then you can start working on mixing them faster.”

I nodded my understanding and he set to work, but not mixing the drinks again. No, this time I was the one mixing them while he simply told me what to do. “It’s easier to put it to memory when you do the work yourself,” as he said, and it was true. It was so with dancing too. Simply watching a choreography wasn’t enough to learn it, I had to go through it myself, using my own body to learn every single move.

“I think you’ve got these four now. I’ll go do some paperwork while you work on all the other drinks, okay? Come get me when you’re done.”

He was going to leave me alone? Then again, I had the menu in front of me, so it wasn’t like I needed his expertise when it came to these. I’d mixed them countless times in the months I’d worked here, so this was all about properly putting them to memory. “Can we turn on some music?” It was weird being all alone in the bar, facing the big, empty room with no sound but the ones I made myself.

“Sure. I’ll put the radio on.” He ran a hand through my hair, kissed my temple, and walked off. Not long after, music filled the club. It wasn’t the regular dance, electro, techno music that blasted from the speakers, but radio edits of popular songs.

I smiled to myself as I perused the menu in front of me. Mojito. That one was ordered often. I set to work, trying to mix from memory, but frequently had to check the menu because I’d forgotten something or because I just wanted to be sure. I took actual sips of the drinks now too, since these were only for me anyway, putting the tastes to mind.

Then one of my favourite songs started playing. Lights by Ellie Goulding—Mathilda and I had choreographed a dance to that one just this summer, before she left for France and before I mostly cut her off from my life. I missed her, and I missed dancing with her, and choreographing in general. I’d been so busy with work and getting ready for my audition that I hadn’t danced for fun in ages.

The club was enormous, with lots of space now it wasn’t filled with people writhing together on the dance floor. I couldn’t help myself. Wynn was in his office, so I was all alone. No one would see me.

I moved out onto the dance floor, a bit hesitant, but the music washed over me and I could see the moves Mathilda and I had spent endless hours working out in my mind and then more hours practicing to get it just right.

My body moved on its own. The song had only reached the middle, but that didn’t matter. I knew the moves well enough to start anywhere. It felt freeing to simply dance for myself again, without an audience to judge me, or for a performance through school or my old dance studio. It was just me and the music. No one to impress.

The song ended and smoothly changed into Kelly Clarkson’s Stronger, and though I didn’t have moves choreographed for that one, I was quite good at improvisation when I was in the zone. Besides, that was also one of my favourite songs, I didn’t even stop to think about it.

That was, until the end of the song and I caught a glimpse of Wynn leaning against the bar, and I stumbled to a halt. “How long’ve you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” He studied me. “Do you have social anxiety?”

He’d startled me and my breathing was quick and he’d just watched me dance without saying a word and—argh. I flushed in embarrassment. “Are you a therapist?” I shot back in a murmur.

He chuckled. “Hardly. But I’ve seen my fair share of them. Social anxiety isn’t a laughing matter. Or did that arsehole ex of yours simply beat all self-confidence out of you?”

I tangled my fingers nervously, not sure how to answer that. It was true that people made me nervous, that I made mistakes when there were others around or when I was stressed. That I didn’t like to be in big crowds. But… had I always been like that? I’d used to be confident about my dancing, way back before when Mathilda and I were tight and I’d discovered just how Alistair really was. But I’d always been shy too and not very good at performing well when it mattered.

He was in front of me now, hand running through my hair. He’s grown fond of that. He did it earlier too. I looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes flickered between mine. “It’s probably the last one, isn’t it?” His lips flattened. “I swear if I ever meet that guy—”

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Thank you. For everything. You don’t even really know me and yet you’ve done so much for me.”

“Yeah, well…” Now he sounded embarrassed. “You’re a great dancer, you know. You only stumbled once you realised I was watching you. Before that you did wonderfully.”

I wasn’t sure I quite believed that, but I went with it, burying my face in his neck instead of arguing about it. “Wynn?”

“Hmm?” His hands splayed over my back.

“Are you gay?” This worried me a little. Alistair always told me he was bi, but to everyone else he was straight, and just… I didn’t want to be in another relationship where the person I was with also wanted to be with other people. Not that being gay, if he was, would exclude that—lots of gay people were in open relationships too, but… I didn’t make any sense. Still, the question burned.

He full out laughed. “I’ve been shagging you for two days, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, but,” I mumbled, “you could be bi.”

“Kasey.” He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me away, holding me at arms’ length. “I’m a hundred percent gay. Trust me. I’ve never had any interest in women. Hell, I’ve hardly ever had any interest in men either, so it’s safe to say I’m pretty monogamous.”

It was like he’d read my thoughts. “But you’ve had some interest in guys?”

He grimaced briefly—but I caught it, because I was already staring at him. “I had a boyfriend. Years ago. And… I used to sleep with my best friend before he shacked up with his two lovers. But… that’s it, basically. There’s been a couple people, but they weren’t all that important in the end.”

Two lovers? Open relationship? Or no… Kian had a friend who had two boyfriends—and the boyfriends were together too. They were in a monogamous relationship, the three of them. And wasn’t that how Kian knew of Wynn? Through that guy…

“What happened to your boyfriend?” If he’d been so important, why wasn’t Wynn with him? Maybe he’d broken his heart.

Wynn let his hands drop from my shoulders as he turned to head back to the bar. “He died.”

Oh shit. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry for.” He started tasting the drinks I’d mixed. “He killed himself. Left a note and everything. That’s the only reason I didn’t end up doing prison time.”

I walked up to the front of the bar, leaning against it as I watched him take healthy swallows from each glass. “Prison time?”

He glanced up briefly. “They were my drugs.”

Oh. Drugs… Was he still—

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted my thoughts. “I don’t deal drugs anymore. Stopped after… well, that. Like I said, it’s years ago. Now I’ve got all this.” He spread his arms wide to indicate the club. “I’ve got a good life.”

“What about family?” He’d already started this topic of conversation, so I felt safe asking, prodding to find out more about him.

He made a decidedly bitter sound. “I don’t have any family. None that wants to have anything to do with me, anyway. I’ve got my club. My flat. A best friend.”

That sounded sad. Then again, I didn’t even have that. I didn’t have my own place to live, didn’t have a job I liked, had pushed away my best friend… I still had Adam though. And I had my family, even if I hadn’t spoken to them in a while.

Mum and Dad didn’t live in London anymore, so I didn’t get to see them all that often. Kian and Silver… well, they had their own life to live. I should at least tell them I’d moved, but they’d want to know where, and I still didn’t dare ask Wynn if he wanted this to get out. This thing between us…

“These are good.” He sat down the last glass. It clinked against the counter. “Did you have a taste?” When I nodded he asked, “What’d you think?”

“I’m not that fond of alcohol, really.”

He chuckled and picked a glass at random, tipping it to his lips. “I probably shouldn’t start drinking overly much either. I did, after—well, it was a really bad time in my life, but I got over it.” I swear there was an eventually tacked onto the end there, to go along with his bittersweet smile. “Anyway. Do you want to mix these again? Or do you want to get out of here?”

“No, that’s okay. I think I’ve got it. I can practice a little more tomorrow before work, maybe.” I walked around the counter to him.

He glanced at me, then drew me into his arms. I hooked mine around his neck, and his hands cupped my arse… and next thing I knew he’d lifted me up to sit on the counter, showing all the half-empty glasses off to the side. His lips claimed mine, soft, cold from the drinks he’d had, the taste of them a mix of the drinks—vodka, rum, Coke, gin…

“If it’s been so long since your boyfriend died and you used to sleep with your friend,” I started breathlessly. “Then why me now?”

“I don’t know.” His hands ran down my sides and under my thighs, lifting them so I could wrap my legs properly around his hips. “The day you started here… I saw you come out of the back room with Adam, looking all kinds of nervous. I haven’t been able to stop looking at you since.”

My heart did a sudden jump and I clutched harder at him, tilting my head away so he’d move his lips further down my neck.

“Say, Kasey…” He sucked on the thin skin beneath my jaw—on the opposite side of the last hickey he’d made on me. “Why aren’t you afraid of me? Most people are. Or they just don’t like me. I can be very direct. And rude. And I don’t have very much patience with much of anything.”

I closed my eyes, rocking my hips against his slightly. “Maybe that’s true for other people, but you’re not like that with me. You watched me for so long without saying anything and when you didn’t have a choice but to speak to me, you were so kind and compassionate. You’re not rude to me—and you have endless patience with me.”

He chuckled, lips sliding downwards. “I guess you’re special then. But really… I saw you, and you seemed nervous then about starting a new job, and every time after that I saw you… you were all nerves, eyes going wide the minute someone spoke to you, like you were afraid they’d hurt you. I guess that tugged at me. I don’t like seeing people so afraid all the time. No one should go around and constantly be afraid.”

I didn’t know I’d seemed like that to other people. I’d thought I was good at keeping it hidden. Obviously not. Wynn had seen it—and he hadn’t even known me. “Then why stay away?”

“Because I know what people say about me. I didn’t want to make you feel even worse. I mean, if Cooper can get you to look like a deer caught in headlights, I didn’t even want to think about what you’d feel about me.”

“Cooper?” Cooper was… he was very sexual. He seemed to get along great with Adam—at least at work. I didn’t know if they hung out outside of work or anything. Cooper was flirty and it had surprised me. He was very open about his sexuality and his sex life, and having lived with Al for so long where everything was a secret… yeah, Cooper had been a bit of a shock.

“Yeah, Cooper… He asked Adam about you. If you were single.” He nipped at my lower lip now. “And Adam told him you were, but that he was to stay away from you.”

“Why?” Why was Adam warning Cooper away from me? Not that I had any interest in Cooper… he was handsome and all, but he was someone who definitely wouldn’t be able to keep his dick in his pants.

“Hell if I know.” He grabbed my hips and pulled me flush up against him, his half-hard dick rubbing against mine. “He just told him to get his rocks off elsewhere and leave you alone.”

Maybe because Adam had already known about Al? Even if he hadn’t got it confirmed…

“I think he was trying to protect you. Cooper’s a bit of a slag, after all.” He chuckled again, chest rumbling. “But I’m not. A slag that is. I like to think I’m pretty loyal.”

My breath caught in my throat. “I am too, I think,” I whispered.

“What a pair we make.” He rubbed our noses together and dragged his lips over mine.

I chuckled, still sort of breathless. “I’m so hard right now.” That hadn’t exactly been what I’d meant to say, but it was true. My dick strained against my skinny jeans.

His usual wry grin appeared. “Let’s go home then and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” I sat at the edge of the counter now, half my arse on it, half not.

He nodded once.

I could feel my cheeks flush, but we’d already had sex. Several times. So I should be able to talk about it and communicate what I wanted. “And if I said I wanted you stretched out on the bed, unmoving, as I did whatever I wanted to you?”

His eyes, already dark naturally, got even darker. “I’m down with that too.”

I just bet he was. Still, I didn’t think he’d let me do all the work on my own… but as long as I got to map out his body, properly study his tattoos, and suck his dick… then he could do whatever he wanted to me afterwards.