KIERAN
“It’s only eight o’clock. Why are you being so loud?”
“Just got in,” she said, clearly hyped up from her shift at the hospital.
“Where’s Hassan?” he asked, turning the kettle on to boil.
“Went out to get some breakfast supplies.”
“Didn’t we get a shop on Friday?”
“Said the bacon was missing or something.”
“When are you back at work?”
“I’m on nights all week, so I need to get some sleep.”
Rather her than him. Kieran had never worked a night shift in his life, and when he saw the schedules Sarah and Hassan had, he was glad he’d never become a doctor. The kettle finished boiling, so he made himself a brew. Sarah declined. He was squeezing the bag when Hassan walked in.
“You’re awake.”
“It’s hardly late,” he grumbled.
“And in a good mood, I see.”
Kieran chuckled and showed him the finger. “Do you want a brew?”
“Nah. I’ll have a coffee, though.”
Kieran rolled his eyes and looked at the coffee machine, which had far too many buttons for his liking.
Thankfully, Hassan was a simple Americano guy, so Kieran didn’t have to wrangle multiple pods into the machine, in the right order, to make the coffee.
Heaven forbid the doctors had to drink instant coffee.
“Where did you go last night?” asked Hassan.
“Just went out for a drink.”
“Who with?”
“By myself.”
“Where did you go?”
“The Back Room.”
He wasn’t lying to his best friend, so he may as well get it out there and let the opinions follow.
“Was that a good idea?”
“That didn’t take long.”
“What?”
“For you to state your disapproval.”
“To be fair, that place is dangerous,” said Sarah.
Keiran and Hassan both looked at her, their jaws agape.
“You have not been to The Back Room,” said Hassan.
“I’ve been outside, but I didn’t get in because I wouldn’t sign the waiver.”
“What waiver?”
“Because I was wearing heels, they said there was an increased possibility of me slipping on bodily fluids and injuring myself, which they wouldn’t take responsibility for.”
Kieran and Hassan looked at each other before cracking up laughing.
“I think the security guard was probably just fucking with you,” said Hassan. “A polite way of saying women aren’t allowed.”
“Are they allowed to turn women away?” asked Kieran.
“Probably not legally, but implying that there’ll be sperm everywhere that you could slip on would probably convince most women not to go inside,” said Hassan. “Except Sarah’s not most women, so why didn’t you still go in?”
“I was with a load of boring bitches who didn’t want to take their heels off and risk standing in something. I mean, we’re doctors for fuck’s sake. We’ve had far worse on us. I mean, this week we had a guy who –”
“Please don’t finish that story,” said Kieran. “I need to eat, and some of us didn’t get desensitised by med school.”
Sarah laughed and made a motion that she was zipping her lips shut. He smiled at her and turned back to Hassan, who was giving him a knowing look.
“What?” he asked.
“Did you speak to Derek last night?”
“No. I just wanted to see what the place was like. I had a look around the . . . facilities . . . and then left.”
“Did you sample the facilities?”
Kieran snorted. “No. Although Derek doesn’t know that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I went into the dark room and then waited until his head was turned away from the bar before I snuck out.”
“Why?”
“So he thought I was still in there.”
“Why?”
“Cos it’s funny.”
“Why?”
“Are you a fucking parrot or something? He kept looking at me, like he was worried about me. So I gave him something to worry about . . . and if you say why again, I’ll throw this coffee on you.”
He added milk and sugar, just how Hassan liked it, and passed it over. Hassan took a sip, then gave Kieran a devilish smile.
“There are more things to throw at you in this kitchen.”
“Who are you two talking about?” asked Sarah.
Kieran shrugged and gestured for Hassan to tell the story.
“The stepdad who outed Kieran to his mum, which made her boot him out, is friends with Milo’s boyfriend and owns The Back Room.”
“Huh?”
To be fair, it was a lot to get your head around on a good day. Even more so after a twelve-hour night shift.
“And . . . it’s the same stepdad Kieran had a crush on when he was a teenager. Derek was his gay awakening.”
“What the fuck, Hassan?”
“You told me to tell her the story.”
“Not that part.”
Sarah clapped her hands. “How is he looking now? Do you still want to fuck him?”
“I am not having this conversation,” he said, attempting to leave, but Sarah stood up and blocked him.
“We need a project name for this,” she said.
“No. There is no project,” he said, exasperated.
“Project Stepdad is a bit on the nose, and we don’t want people thinking it’s some kind of incest shit. Wait, how old were you when he first became your stepdad?”
“I was fourteen when they started going out, and fifteen when they got married.”
“That’s fine. I lost my virginity at fourteen.”
“What has that got to do with anything?”
“It was with my brother’s best friend.”
“Isn’t your brother ten years older than you?”
“Yeah. It’s not like it was my dad’s friend.”
“Can we get back on topic?” said Hassan.
“How about we just drop this conversation completely, and I’ll go back to bed?”
“Project Daddy!” suggested Sarah.
Hassan snorted; Kieran glared at him. The last thing he needed was for Sarah to turn him into one of her projects.
She might be a hot mess, but when she set her mind on something, she achieved it.
If she decided Kieran and Derek were a thing, then she’d do everything she could to make it happen.
Which was the last thing Kieran wanted. He didn’t even like the man, let alone the bizarreness of pursuing his teenage crush.
Thankfully, Sarah didn’t know the type of guys he fucked.
If she knew they all looked like they were related to Derek, she’d be even more determined to interfere.
It was the middle of the week, and he’d barely seen either of his flatmates as they’d both been working nights.
Hassan had said plenty over text, and was encouraging him to at least hear what Derek had to say.
Milo must have gotten to him, because Hassan had been on Team Kieran until recently.
Sarah had been quiet, and hadn’t come up with any new project names, so that was something at least. Kieran couldn’t help being curious, but he’d put Derek is his cunt box a decade ago and wasn’t prepared to let him out.
It didn’t matter what his reasons were. He had betrayed Kieran’s trust. He hadn’t explicitly told Derek not to say anything to his mum, but it had been heavily implied.
“Your next client’s here, Kieran,” said Jez.
His boss seemed in a bit of a mood today, so Kieran wasn’t doing anything to antagonise the guy.
This was just a consultation, so it shouldn’t take long.
With custom pieces, the client sometimes came in, but most of the time it was done by phone, video, or email.
Once the design was agreed on, the session was booked in.
Kieran walked to the front of the shop and stopped in his tracks.
“What are you doing here?” asked Kieran.
“I’m your two o’clock,” said Derek with a smile.
“Like fuck you are. I’m not tattooing you.”
Derek’s smile disappeared, making Kieran feel guilty.
“You came highly recommended by a mutual friend,” said Derek.
“Who?”
“Langdon.”
He’d be having words with Langdon, but then he didn’t know the history between him and Derek, so he probably just thought he was doing a good thing.
“I can see if someone else is available for your consultation,” said Kieran, although the thought of someone else tattooing Derek made him feel funny. What the fuck was that all about?
“I don’t want someone else, Kieran. I want the best, which is you.”
“I think the others might have something to say about that.”
“Kieran, what’s going on?” asked Jez, appearing from the back.
“Is someone else available to do this client?”
“What are you talking about? He booked you.”
“I don’t want to do it.”
“Why not?”
Kieran didn’t want to get into their history with his boss, but he’d need to say something or it would look like he was just being a dick about a customer. Before he could speak, the door opened, and Grant walked in. Derek’s eyes widened, like he recognised him, but he said nothing.
“Go through to the office. I’ll be there in a minute,” said Jez to Grant.
“You should know better than to give orders to me, Jez. What’s going on here? Why am I feeling tension? This guy giving you trouble, Kieran?” he gestured at Derek.
“No. Nothing like that. Just a mix-up with the bookings.”
“You’re not a very good liar, Kieran. Is this the guy who gave you the bruises?”
“What bruises?” said Derek, with a flash of anger. “Has someone hurt you?”
“Did I give you permission to speak?” said Grant.
“No, it wasn’t him,” said Kieran, feeling embarrassed that Derek now knew about it.
“I can see you’re telling the truth, Kieran. How about I deal with this guy for you, and you can thank me by having dinner with me later?”
“No,” said Derek, with a growl in his tone.
“Oh. It’s like that, is it?” said Grant with a smile. “I don’t think Kieran’s interested in you, old man. Are you interested, Kieran?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. We just . . . we just know each other from years ago. That’s all . . . there’s nothing like that. I just . . . it’s personal stuff.”
Why the fuck was he blabbering? There was something about Grant that made him nervous.
Was it because he was hot? Possibly. But more likely because he was a mob boss and had probably killed people.
At least that’s what rumours online were saying.
Kieran may have gone down a bit of a wormhole of research when he learned who Grant was.
What he still didn’t understand was why he was in the shop all the time. How did Jez know him?
“Well, now you’ve got me intrigued, Kieran. How about you tell me what’s going on over dinner? I’m sure I’ll be able to help you with your . . .” He looked Derek up and down. “Problem.”
“He’s not going out for dinner with you,” said Derek.
“And who the fuck are you to have an opinion?” asked Grant.
“I’m his stepdad.”
Brilliant. Now everyone was going to know his business. He noticed it had gotten quieter in the shop, but didn’t look around to see if anyone else was listening in. They probably were. Everyone was a nosy bastard in this place.
“If you’re his stepdad, then why am I sensing a lot of hostility coming off Kieran?” asked Grant. “Have you upset this sweet boy?”
“That’s none of your business. It’s a private matter between me and Kieran. You just need to keep away from him,” Derek snarled.
Was he insane? Why was arguing with a gangster for fuck’s sake. Grant chuckled and didn’t look at all bothered by Derek’s words.
“Why don’t we ask Kieran?” said Grant.
Great. Perhaps they could just not involve Kieran in this entire conversation, and everyone could fuck off and leave him alone.
Not something he would say aloud, though.
His boss would sack him. Grant would do God knew what, and as for Derek .
. . yeah, that wasn’t a stone he was kicking over.
The way he’d been all growly about the idea of Grant taking him out for dinner had made Kieran’s mind wander to an inappropriate place.
“I just want to get back to work.”
“That’s not an answer, Kieran. Do you want me to escort your stepdad out of the shop and make sure he doesn’t bother you again, or are you going to do whatever he came in here for?”
Kieran didn’t want to do either of those things. “Is there a third option?”
Grant laughed. “Well, you can have dinner with me for starters. I’m sure Jez will let you finish early.”
“Yes, of course,” said Jez. There was a tremor in his voice, which Kieran had never heard before.
Kieran needed to say something before things escalated, but all the offers on the table were of no interest to him. Would it be a big deal if he went for dinner with Grant? Should he listen to what Hassan said and just hear Derek out?
“Derek, give me your number and I’ll call you.”
Derek looked surprised but quickly put it into Kieran’s phone. He saw him text himself, because of course he did. Grant watched the exchange with a smirk on his face. Once that was done, Derek didn’t move.
“I think that’s your cue to leave, gramps,” said Grant. “Or I can escort you?”
“Just go, Derek,” said Kieran. “I’ll call you later.”
Derek didn’t look too happy about it, but he reluctantly left.
“So, Kieran, how are you going to thank me for sorting that little problem out for you?” asked Grant.
He didn’t feel as though he had much of a choice in the matter. It looked like Kieran was going to dinner with a mobster.