Chapter 4
four
. . .
Xavier
The club is heaving. Strobe lights flash, and bodies writhe.
A sexy version of “Love Tonight” by Shouse is playing, and I can feel the beat in my whole body as I lean against the glass wall of the private room that Durands booked for us.
Everyone from the shoot is here, knocking back drinks like they’re going out of fashion because Dean started a tab, courtesy of Jonas.
I doubt Jonas would approve of the two models doing lines on the table, but he’s not here, so what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
I’ve had a few beers and some shots, but I can’t seem to get drunk, and I need it tonight. I need some form of oblivion to forget what an idiot I am.
The dance floor is packed with people. I should be down there dancing, flirting, and later fucking in a bathroom.
Instead, I’m stuck here trying not to look at Reuben and feeling a mixture of anger and concern run through my body.
I’m concerned because he was bad today. Oh, he’d been as sexily in charge as ever.
No one commands a photoshoot like him. His attention was absolute, his movements graceful, and his long body was clad in very sexy cargo trousers.
It had made me smile a little because four men at the shoot were wearing similar pants, but I’d be prepared to bet that none of theirs had been worn in combat zones around Syria.
His levels of not giving a shit have always been legendary.
Half a dozen times, he’d been so close I could have leant in and pressed against him.
I hate the fact that I’d wanted to more than anything.
It’s been such a long time since I saw him that the urge was overpowering.
But after a few minutes, I’d seen the strain in his eyes, the way his shoulders were tight.
And when that wanker Francois had forced him into the lift, I’d snapped.
And that’s why I’m angry. Oh, not with Francois.
Twats do as twats always will. No, I’m angry with myself because Reuben’s mental health shouldn’t be my concern.
He fucked me off years ago, and I’ve had my revenge a dozen times or more.
But I just couldn’t stand there and watch him try to keep the panic down, all while Francois gloated like it made him better than Reuben. I huff. As if Reuben isn’t a thousand times more of a man than him.
And the truth hidden under that rage is that Reuben scares me a little when he’s like this.
I need him hale and hearty as an adversary I can fuck over.
Not so sad that I’d wanted to hug him. Not so sad that I’d felt that horrible old yearning to make him happy.
And another worry is that the desire to hurt him which has been my constant companion for so long has seemingly abandoned me lately.
I think it’s the year apart. How can you maintain a great level of appropriate rage when your opponent waved his white flag and fucked off without staying long enough to know I’d even seen it?
Against my will, my gaze tracks across the room to where he’s standing talking to Dean and Jennet.
He’s changed and is now wearing black jeans that cling to his long legs, a simple grey T-shirt, and battered old motorcycle boots.
The T-shirt clings to his brawny shoulders and lean torso.
His hair is loose, falling in waves to his shoulders.
It’s so different from when I first met him.
Then it had been short, showing off his fantastic bone structure and those pretty grey eyes.
I like it long. It makes him look rumpled and sexy.
I wonder why the idiot is even here. Nightclubs aren’t good for anyone with PTSD, and he bloody well knows it.
I scan his face reluctantly, looking for any bad signs, but his eyes are bright and intent, and even as I watch, he says something to Jennet, his expression wicked, and she laughs out loud.
She looks happy again and not like when Robbie was so nasty to her.
I’d been on the verge of snapping at him, but Reuben had stepped in, and I’m trying to ignore how hot it was.
As if I’ve summoned him, Robbie appears next to me. He hands me a beer, and I smile my thanks, and if the smile is too thin, Robbie won’t notice. His gaze moves past me to focus on his reflection in the mirror behind me, demonstrating his absolute obsession with himself.
My eyes flick to Reuben again, just a second to check where he is. When I turn my attention back to my beer, I find Robbie watching me, his eyes gleeful and knowing.
“So,” he says, leaning into me and talking into my ear. “You and the hot daddy Reuben, eh?”
I take a sip of my drink. “What are you on about?”
He nudges me. “You know exactly what I mean. I never knew you’d fucked him.”
“And you don’t know now either.”
“Oh, come off it. It’s as obvious as the fact that Jennet needs to invest in some Ozempic.”
I look at him in disgust. “Don’t be such a cunt.”
He talks over me. “I can’t say I blame you. I’d shag him too. I mean, look at him.”
I foolishly follow Robbie’s gaze to Reuben and jolt when I find Reuben’s watching us. His eyes are dark with disapproval. Then Jennet says something, and he turns back to her. I sag, feeling like the eye of Sauron just passed over me.
“I mean it,” Robbie says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, irritated. “It’s never very clear.”
“I might make a move,” he says consideringly.
“A move on who?”
“Reuben, of course. I’ve always fancied him. God, I bet he fucks like an animal. Look at those shoulders and that body.” He shudders. “So hot. And the way he talks is so bossy.”
“No.” My protest is way too loud and too sharp.
His grin turns suddenly malicious and I know I’ve just made a crucial error and fallen into his trap. Now he’s definitely going to make a move.
Suddenly, I’ve had enough. I turn away from him and make my way down the stairs to the dance floor.
It’s so loud I can feel the beat in my feet, and the air is thick with a hundred different colognes.
I edge into the crowd and start to dance.
Almost immediately, two arms wind around me, and a body rubs against my back.
“No,” I snap, shoving the arms. “Fuck off.”
“Rude,” the bloke huffs and turns away to press his attentions on someone else.
“Insomnia” by Faithless comes on, and the crowd whoops. My breath hitches as memories swamp me. Suddenly, I’m back in that hotel room listening to Reuben’s laughter. I shove the memory away with a fierce determination learned over the years and let the beat move my body.
Instinct tells me that someone is looking at me.
I look up and find Reuben standing at the glass wall of the private room staring down at me.
For a second, I freeze. Does he remember what I do—the glow sticks, the faulty dry ice machine, and the laughter?
Laughter that was so loud that it somehow seems to have echoed through the years.
The moment is broken as Robbie steps in front of me.
“Go away and annoy someone else,” I snap, turning my back on him and moving to the heavy beat, my hands in the air.
He sidles behind me, his hands coming onto my hips. “No need to be like that,” he shouts. He holds me tight and moves against me, forcing his cock into my backside. “Look up,” he shouts in my ear.
I follow his pointing finger. Reuben is still watching us, but now his arms are folded, and he’s scowling.
I can almost feel Robbie’s delight in the situation.
His grip is tight, and I know he’s bruising me.
I’m just about to tell him to fuck off when I see a young man come up next to Reuben.
He’s small and pretty, his blond hair flopping over his forehead.
I think he’s one of the makeup artists, and no one knows better than me that he’s Reuben’s type.
He says something to Reuben. Reuben’s face softens as he looks down at him.
Fuck this. Fuck him.
I turn in Robbie’s arms. “You were saying?” I shout, and he laughs, throwing his head back.
I kiss down his neck as we grind against each other, perfectly syncopated.
The next time I glance up at the VIP lounge, the young man is gone.
Reuben meets my gaze, and our eyes clash and cling.
I raise my arms and slide them around Robbie’s neck, pressing into him.
I shift a glance at him and find he’s staring at Reuben with a mocking expression. Then he lowers his head and sucks my earlobe into his mouth, his tongue swirling around my earring. Reuben’s attention is solely on me.
The music dims, the club seems to empty, and the only thing is me and Reuben and the current between us that’s like an arcing electrical cable.
Then Reuben simply turns and disappears.
One minute he’s there, the next he’s gone.
As if he were bored and suddenly decided to cut out.
I blink as if a spell has broken, the music flooding back in.
I feel stupid and very young. What am I doing here? I’m suddenly very tired.
Robbie drags me closer, but I resist. “I’m done,” I shout. He holds his fingers to his ear, and I step close. “I’m going.”
He kisses me suddenly, his lips avaricious, forcing my mouth open. I jerk as I taste something acrid and feel something on my tongue. I pull away, shoving him as he comes after me. I spit on the floor and see the remains of a tiny white tablet. “What the fuck did you give me?”
“Just a tab,” he shouts. “Thought you might need loosening up a bit.”
I shove him. “You absolute fucking shithead.”
His eyes are arrogant, his expression supercilious. “Chill out, babe. You take shit every day.”
“I don’t, but whatever I do take, I make the decision to take it. Not you.”