“There’s a guy watching you,” Benjamin said. “On the right. The cowboy. Kind of cute. Huge pecs. Big boots.”
Tal glanced over, because it was still nice to be looked at—sometimes.
“Not Tal’s type,” Louis said.
Louis was right.
“Oh my God, he’s wearing spurs,” Benjamin said.
“They’re rubber.” Tal had spotted them too.
“He’d lacerate everyone’s ankles otherwise,” Louis pointed out. “There’s pain and then there’s pain. I’ve never stitched anyone up with lacerated ankles. I don’t think injury by spurs is something I’ve ever thought about.”
“Now you will.” His boyfriend nudged him and laughed.
“Someone turns up with slashed ankles, first thing I’ll ask,” Louis said. “Are you a cowboy?”
Benjamin laughed. Tal had known the pair since their first days at Uni. The three of them had rooms on the same corridor in halls of residence. Two medical students and an architect. Louis had ended up looking after the living as an ED doctor and Benjamin the dead as a pathologist. Tal would never have picked them as a pair, but they’d not been apart since Fresher’s week and that was that. And they were still friends with Tal seventeen years later, for which he was very grateful.
“What about Venom over there?” Louis asked. “That outfit is amazing.”
Tal looked at the many-toothed head perched on the man’s shoulder and gulped. “Not tonight. I came for a drink, and to wish you both a happy Christmas.” He finished his orange juice. “Another round?”
“Have you ever known us say no?” The pair spoke at the same time.
It was another thirty minutes before Tal managed to escape. He needed to use the bathroom before he left and that involved a trip he’d rather not have made, especially since it took him past a few things he’d prefer to have not seen.
The playrooms no longer turned him on. Maybe they had when he was much younger. But now? No, they didn’t. He wasn’t an exhibitionist and couldn’t really understand why anyone would want to watch him get fucked. And now watching others just made him sad. Group sex was all very well, but it always felt as though guys were queuing for their turn, looking for a wayto get their cock into or between some body part—mouth, arse, thighs, hands, underarms, feet… No connection was needed, no attraction necessary, no one asked for someone’s number after they’d come. Sometimes they said thank you.Ugh.It was all too…mechanical.
He emerged unscathed from the club and walked to his car wondering if there was a record for the number of men one guy could service at the same time.God!What did it matter? It wasn’t his thing. Histhingwas one guy, someone he could completely trust, someone who understood what he liked, someone who respected his boundaries. He’d thought he’d found that with Dorian, and Dorian had ruined him for all men. Damn him to hell and back.
Tal set up his navigation. He should be there by one in the morning for a solo, Christmas-free break. It was the best way to get this time of the year over with. Avoid any painful memories.
Hmm, right.
He started to listen to a podcast about David Hockney and was soothed within moments. He liked driving. The journey would be fun.
It was. Right until it started to snow. Tal hated driving in snow.Fuck!
Two
Corey stared in a mixture of horror and disbelief at what had just been pulled from his backpack. He’d been aware of the earlier kerfuffle in the restaurant, a customer getting shouty, but it hadn’t been someone sitting at one of his tables, so he’d not paid too much attention. Nor had he been worried when he’d been summoned to the staffroom by his boss.
He should have been.
“Well?” Matilda brandished the black leather wallet in front of Corey’s face. “Explain this.”
“I believe it’s called a wallet.”
“Don’t be a smart arse.”
“I’ve never seen it before in my life.”
“Someone said they saw you take it.”
Oh my God.“Tricky since that didn’t happen.” Even as Corey spoke, and he stayed calm despite his increasing anger, he could guess the way this was going to end. Not well for him.
“Then how did it get into your backpack, Corey?” Matilda asked.
