Chapter 2

 

Keane’s was busy for a Thursday night. The pub Rufus had insisted on going to first had been busy too, so obviously he was not the only one intent on starting his weekend early. Rufus was already a little merry, having downed three large glasses of wine in quick succession as soon as we reached the pub. The drinks were cheaper than in the club according to him, although I had to wonder why it mattered to him when he wasn’t the one paying.

I had work the next day so drinking wasn’t an option for me, especially on an empty stomach. A bag of crisps in the pub had taken the edge off my hunger, but not much more. I stood at the end of the bar, sipping my diet coke, and watching Rufus tear it up on the dance floor. He was easy to keep an eye on as absolutely everything about him was pink. His hair, lip gloss, nail varnish, tank top and skinny-fit jeans. All of it varying shades of pink, from pastel to neon. It got him a lot of attention. Random guys gyrated up against him on the dance floor. He seemed to be enjoying it, and any other night we might have argued about it. But I was too tired and I knew at the end of the night he would go home with me, so why turn it into a bigger deal than it had to be?

At the end of the track, Rufus danced his way over to me. He threw one sweaty arm around my shoulders and reached over to steal my drink. Taking a big swallow, he pulled a face.

“Ugh. There’s no alcohol in that.”

“Working tomorrow,” I said by way of explanation. I put my hands on his waist and pulled him to me for a sticky, strawberry flavour kiss. It wouldn’t hurt to let his many admirers see he was spoken for. “Are you ready to go yet?”

“Do we have to?” Rufus pouted. “I’m having such a good time and I’ve hardly thought about Stefan and Alex at all!”

“Go on then,” I said, smothering a sigh. He needed to let his hair down after the day he’d had. First that cow of a receptionist making him feel bad, and then Stefan dropping his little bombshell…my poor Rufus deserved to have some fun. “Just another half hour though, yeah?”

“’Course, babes. Get me another drink, will you?”

Rufus gave me another quick kiss before sauntering back to the dance floor and the little gaggle of admirers waiting for him. I turned back to the bar, and signalled the barman. He was a newbie, one of several brought in by the new management. All of the guys behind the bar were hot in their own way, though none of them compared to Rufus. This one, who had insisted on serving me all night even when there were other staff members closer, was not my type at all. Unlike Stefan, I had never found all that muscle and brooding good looks attractive. The guy was huge, especially compared to someone like me who barely scraped five feet five.

“Another diet coke?” he asked, pointing to my glass. Okay, so he had big, brown eyes and a smile to die for, none of which mattered because even if I did like the look of him, I had a boyfriend.

“No, thanks. I’ve had about all the fizz I can take for one night. I’ll take an Archers and lemonade for my boyfriend though.”

“So…what?” His eyes flickered toward the dance floor, where Rufus was sandwiched between guys who were running their hands up and down his pink denim-clad thighs. “Do you two have an open relationship?”

“No,” I said firmly. “We don’t.”

Rufus may have forgotten that detail a couple of times, but he’d apologised after and promised me that I was the only one he wanted to be with. I hadn’t looked at another guy since we’d been together, and I wasn’t about to start now with some jumped up barman who obviously thought he was God’s gift to gay men.

“You don’t mind then? The way he acts with other guys?”

“No. Why would I? I’m the one he goes home with at the end of the night.”

I avoided his gaze as he placed Rufus’ drink on the bar. I didn’t have to justify myself or my relationship to this man or anyone else. It was none of his fucking business, and I had a good mind to report him. More than likely, he was breaking the terms of his employment by hitting on the customers. There had always been strict rules against staff fraternising with the customers at Keane’s before. As soon as we got home, I would write a strongly worded email to his boss.

“Wait,” I said, realising the barman was walking away without taking my money. If flirting with the customers didn’t get him fired, giving out freebies certainly would. “I haven’t paid.”

“On the house.” He smiled again, revealing perfect, white teeth.

“No, you can’t. You’ll get into trouble,” I said, forgetting that a moment ago, I had been quite prepared to blow the whistle on him myself.

“Don’t worry about it.” He moved along the bar to serve another customer.

Not that I was interested, of course, but I found myself watching him as he worked. He wore the same black trousers and t-shirt as the other bar staff, only his attire seemed a closer fit than any of the others. It was impossible to miss the way the material clung to his solid thighs and stretched across his back muscles as he moved. In a way, I envied him. He was quick to smile and laugh, and he had a friendly word for everyone he served, as well as a brilliant rapport with his colleagues. I wondered how it must feel to be so self-assured and comfortable in your own body.

Every so often, his warm brown gaze would turn in my direction. Each time, I would blush and look away, embarrassed that he should catch me watching him. Inevitably, after a minute or so of looking anywhere and everywhere but behind the bar, my eyes would be drawn back to that beautiful, intriguing man.

Beautiful? Where had that come from? He was so far from my idea of beautiful it was unreal. Maybe he’d slipped something into my drink when I wasn’t looking, because I had to be drunk or high to be thinking of someone like him in terms of being beautiful.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rufus stood before me, his heart-shaped face a mask of fury.

“I’m waiting for you. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re eyeing up the guy behind the bar to me,” Rufus snapped. “You’re supposed to be watching me, not him.”

“I wasn’t…” I began, before deciding there was no point in denying it because I had clearly been doing exactly what Rufus accused me of for the past twenty minutes. Rufus was over-reacting though. He had to know the guy behind the bar was hardly my type. I tried to come up with an excuse that would both appease my boyfriend and explain my fascination with another man. “He reminds me of someone. I’ve been trying to figure out who he looks like.”

“Duh!” Rufus said scathingly. “He looks like fucking Alex Gill!”

“Really? You think so?”

I knew Rufus was right, although I had not acknowledged the resemblance until that point. Of course the guy looked like Alex. Not just his size, but his short, dark hair and big, brown eyes too. But I’d never once felt the faintest flicker of attraction toward Alex. What was it about this guy that grabbed my attention, however hard I tried to resist?

Rufus glared, unconvinced. It was funny really, his little display of jealousy. He’d spent all night on the dance floor with different guys draped all over him, getting off on knowing I was watching them feel him up, but God forbid I even glance sideways at someone else.

“Let’s just go home,” I said, too tired to argue.

“I want to dance some more,” Rufus stated stubbornly. “You can go home if you like. Just give me some money for another drink. Oh, and make sure you leave me enough to get a taxi home later.”

“Here.” I took a couple of notes from my wallet and Rufus plucked them from my fingers with a grin.

“Thanks, babe. Love you.”

With a waggle of his long fingers, he flounced back to the dance floor and was immediately surrounded by men of all shapes and sizes. I shook my head despairingly as I pulled on my jacket. Rufus would never change. He’d still be dressing the same way and strutting his stuff in night clubs when he was forty. I wondered how I would feel about that; if we were still together by then, of course. I hoped we would be. My future, the way I imagined it, was with Rufus, but who knew what would happen? Maybe, one of these nights, he’d meet someone he preferred to me. Maybe I’d meet someone I preferred to him. Not that I ever dared tell Rufus, but I wanted the kind of love that Stefan and Alex had.

“Hey, wait up.”

Outside the club, I heard feet pounding against the pavement and I turned, not surprised to see the guy from behind the bar chasing after me.

“What do you want?”

“I…um…saw you leave. Are you okay walking home alone? I could give you a lift if you wanted.”

“Thanks, but no.” I’d driven into town because I knew I wouldn’t be drinking. “My car is parked over there.”

“Oh, right.” He seemed disappointed as he looked across the street in the direction I had indicated. I wanted to get in my car and go home – wanted to get away from him and the strange effect he had on me – but I waited, sensing he had more to say. “Why do you let him treat you like that?” he asked eventually.

I stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” He regarded me coolly. “He walks all over you and you let him.”

“You don’t even know him,” I said irritably.

“I know the type.” He rubbed his hands over his dark hair, exasperated. “You know what? I’m wasting my time here.”

No shit, Sherlock. I could have told him that hours ago.

“I thought I was interested in you, but I was wrong. I couldn’t be with a guy who’s too blind or too stupid to see when he’s being played.”

“Fuck you!” I spat, truly angry now. “I’ve been with Rufus for eighteen months. We love each other. I think I’d know if he was playing games.”

“My mistake.” The guy held up his hands as if to fend off my anger. “I think you deserve better, that’s all.”

I watched him stride back toward the club, before I crossed the street and climbed into my car. I gripped the wheel tightly to stop my hands from shaking. How dare he? How dare he? He didn’t know jack-shit about my relationship. He was wrong about Rufus. He was. I rested my head on my hands, fighting back sudden, angry tears.

He was wrong. He had to be.