Chapter 2 #2
I thought for a minute. “Free booze!” I shouted.
“Yes please!” Slamming his glass down on the table, he looked at me and his glowing grin was back. The fact that I had put it there made me smile like a fool all the way to the bar and back.
The next hour or so flew by in a flurry of alcohol and glee. I couldn’t tell you what we’d talked about, but my stomach hurt and my eyes watered from laughing so much.
“What’s so funny over here, then?” Damian dragged a chair over to our table and sat down, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.
“I don’t even know!” I announced loudly, causing Mick to giggle manically, which just set me off again.
“Oh, well don’t let me interrupt the merriment,” Damien said with a sullen tone in his voice.
“Don’t be a silly sod, sit down! The more, the merrier.” Mick’s warm smile was enough to convince Damian, who went straight into spilling all the secrets and lies that had been flying around over the last week.
I took it as my cue to go to the bar again.
Unlike Mick, I wasn’t interested in gossip.
I spent all day at the salon pretending to be interested in who said what to whom, and who so-and-so was seen having dinner with, and what a scandal it had been when Mrs Fogg and Mrs Keith both turned up at some social event in the same dress.
Gossiping at the club was a bit of a busman’s holiday to me.
When I got back to the table with a tray of drinks, Tommy had stolen my chair and was pulling Eric onto his lap. Mick and Damian were leaning into each other as they nattered conspiratorially.
Seeing them so close together sent jealousy zapping through my veins. How dare Damian flirt with my Mick? Right under my nose as well. Granted, I had no claim on Mick, and I’d never told him how I felt. For that matter, Damian had no idea either. It still pissed me off.
Slamming the drinks down on the table, I downed half of my strong gin and tonic. Mick guffawed like Damian was the funniest man in the world, and I downed the other half for good measure.
“Slow down, dear. I’m not dragging your sorry bod back home if you end up too bevvied to stand,” Damian sniffed.
I glared at him and stormed onto the dance floor. A fast soul song was playing which spared me the embarrassment of trying to find someone to dance with. Facing away from Damian and Mick, I lost myself to the music for a while.
The tempo slowed, and I was about to leave the dance floor when a hand closed over my wrist. Trailing my gaze up, I looked into the face of a handsome young man.
Without words, he invited me to dance, and I went willingly.
Taller and broader than me, he took me into his arms and swayed me to the dreamy soul song.
As he span me, I spied Damian and Mick over his shoulder, sitting far too close to each other to be considered friendly.
Pushing away from my dance partner, I mumbled an apology and headed straight to the bar. Simon took one look at me and deposited a large gin in front of me, which I downed in one almighty gulp.
“Bad night?” he asked.
I nodded, fumbled around in my pockets for cash, and put down enough for three drinks. Simon took the money and put down two more drinks in front of me. One of which I drank, and the other I took back to where my friends were sitting.
Back at the table, Tommy and Eric were in one seat attempting the scientific impossibility of occupying the same space at the same time. Two other chairs were now occupied by my friends Percy and Sebastian. Mick and Damian still had their heads together, giggling at something.
Seeing red, I plonked myself on Mick’s lap, wrapped my hands around his neck, and planted a messy kiss on his cheek. Half expecting to be shoved to the floor, I was relieved when Mick chuckled and put his hands around my waist to stop me from falling.
“What the hell was that for, you daft bugger?” he asked through his laughter.
I pointed at Eric wrapped around Tommy. “Blame them. They stole my seat! And your lap looked a lot comfier than Damian’s.” I wiggled my bum a bit to show I was comfy.
“You silly sod,” he said but made no attempt to get rid of me. “At least you’re skinnier than Eric, I don’t fancy having him on my lap.”
“Good thing too,” growled Tommy and tightened his hold.
“Excuse me!” I grabbed Mick’s face in my hands and turned his head towards me. “I am not skinny. I am slim.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Skinny makes you think of starving orphans. Slim reminds you of a glamorous starlet. Like Audrey Hepburn.”
“Okay, Audrey, just stop wriggling, will you? You have a bony arse.”
“I beg your pardon!” I leapt up from Mick’s lap and wobbled a bit but caught myself. “My arse is not boney, thank you very much! It is firm and juicy! Like a perfect peach!” To prove my point, I bent over and lifted the back of my suit jacket up.
“See?” I looked over my shoulder at Mick, who was holding his hands over his face. “You’re not looking! How can I prove to you that I have a gorgeous arse if you don’t look at it?” I hoped he’d do it soon because bending over like this was making me dizzy.
“Alright, I’m looking,” he shouted through fits of laughter.
“And?” I straightened up and another wave of dizziness hit me, which caused me to trip over. Before I hit the hard floor, something broke my fall.
“Woah, careful there, love.”
Oh. Not something. Someone. Mick caught me. He was so solid, and he had nice strong arms. He was shorter than me but much stronger. I hadn’t realised how strong he was.
“You’re strong,” I told him.
“Yeah, I am.” Mick laughed but kept hold of me. “And you’re drunk.”
“How dare you? I am not drunk. It is not true! And you cannot prove it.”
“Say the alphabet backwards.”
“Why?”
“It’s how you prove you’re sober to a policeman.”
“There’s a policeman?”
Everyone around us stopped talking and swung around to look at us.
“No!” Damian shoved me into the chair. “Don’t panic, boys. No old bill here tonight. My pal’s just had a few too many Vera Lynns, that's all. As you were.” He finished his little speech with a flourish of his wrist and then turned back to me.
“You can’t go around screeching about sharpies,” he breathed.
“Sorry.” I felt as though I was being told off like a naughty schoolboy.
“You bloody should be.” Damian snapped.
“Leave it out, mate,” Mick said to him. “He’s only a bit merry.”
Damian rolled his eyes. “A bit merry? He’s completely pissed. I–”
“I resemble that remark.” I interrupted. “I am not as think as you drunk I am.” My declaration did not have the intended effect, and instead, they all laughed at me.
“You might be right,” Mick said and then turned back to me. “I think you’d better go home and sleep it off.”
He was probably right. My head hurt, and I wasn’t having any fun anymore. Home was a good idea.
“Yeah, p’raps you’re right.” I got up but fell back into the chair. I tried again and stood up for a second or two before falling right back down.
“I can’t make standing work properly,” I said.
“You can’t go home in this state.” Mick looked at Damian, who uncrossed and recrossed his legs. then turned away.
“Don’t look at me,” Damian said. “I haven’t pulled yet and I am not missing out just to get his bod home.”
Fine friend he was. I blew a raspberry at him.
That’ll teach him to be mean. Mick looked like he was working out a difficult equation in his head.
“Right, I’ll take you home.” He turned to his friends who were snogging each other’s faces off.
“Tommy?” Mick shouted but got no response. He prodded him in the side.
“What?”
“I have to take Michael home. Will you two wait till I get him home and come back here?”
“If you’re quick,” Eric said. “We were going to go home soon. I’m… tired. I want to go to bed.”
“I bet you do.” Mick snorted, then turned back to me. “Where do you live, love? Will it take long?”
I liked him calling me love. I knew he was affectionate with everyone, but it still felt nice.
“Michael?” Mick asked.
“Yes?” I answered.
Everyone laughed again, but I wasn’t sure why and it made me feel bad.
“Where do you live?” Mick said slowly and deliberately.
“Oh. Hoffeld State.”
Mick stared at me.
“Hallfield Estate, darling,” said Damian, which was odd because I already said that.
“Where’s that?” asked Mick.
“Bayswater. Not the nice bit. One of those huge concrete estates.”
“Bayswater? Bloody hell, that’s miles away.”
“We’re not waiting for you to get all the way to Bays-fucking-water and back, mate.” Tommy snapped.
Mick groaned and rubbed his face. “Michael, can I sleep on your couch?”
“Yes. Just take me home, please.”
He smiled at me and his chestnut eyes softened. “Yeah, I’ll take you home, love. Don’t worry.”
He called me love again. I liked that a lot.
He held out his hands, and I took them. He had hard, firm hands, rough with callouses.
He pulled me up in one firm tug, which went straight to my dick and made me miserable at the same time.
I’d always wanted Mick to take me home, but not like this–out of pity and duty.
I wanted him to love me like I loved him, or at least want me like I wanted him.
With a much needed arm around my waist for balance, Mick half carried me up the stairs and out of the building.
I hated that he was having to look after me like this.
If I could have managed it, I would have gone home alone, but I wasn’t sure I even remembered where I lived.
Bloody gin. Bloody Damian. Bloody stupid unrequited love.