CHAPTER ONE
“I’m gonna tell him.” Ian leant against the bar and downed the rest of his drink, determination settling into his bones, no doubt fuelled by alcohol.
He tracked Blake’s movements as he danced with abandon, not giving a shit if he made a tit of himself. Ian grinned.
Cate refilled his glass, frown in place, and set it down on the counter with a sigh. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why?” He pointed at the dance floor, beer bottle in hand. “He’s my best friend, Cate.”And I’m in love with him.“It’s getting harder to hide it from him.”
She leant over the bar and grabbed his arm as he headed for the dance floor. “I’m pretty sure he knows.”
That stopped him in his tracks, and his smile vanished. “What d’you mean?”
“Fuck.” With a glance down the rest of the bar to make sure no one was waiting, she slipped out from behind the counter and took the stool next to him. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
“I’ve never once hit on him, or—”
“You don’t need to. Your body language speaks for you. You don’t look at anybody else the way you look at Blake.”
Ian blew out a breath and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Bollocks.” Deep down he knew the answer but couldn’t stop himself from twisting the knife. “If he knows, then why hasn’t he said anything?”
The look of pity Cate gave him made him want to throw up. “You know why.” Her voice was far too soft; she never spoke to him like this. “I’m sorry, Ian, I really am.” They both watched as Blake flirted with a short blond guy—the total opposite to Ian.
When they started to kiss, Ian turned away, concentrating very hard on his bottle of beer. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”
“No.” Cate put her arm around him and gave him a sideways hug. “I know it sucks, but you need to stop moping over something that’s never going to happen and move the fuck on.”
That was more like the Cate he knew, but her words stung.
“Jesus, thanks for the sympathy.”
Returning to her spot behind the bar, she sighed. “I’ve watched you pine after him for the last three years. Blake’s a nice guy and I love him like a brother, but he’s not the only nice guy out there.” She served a couple of girls, and Ian waited.
She wasn’t done and he knew better than to walk off halfway through one of her lectures.
After taking the girls’ money, she turned back to him. “You’ve spent so long fixated on him, I’m not sure whether you actually do love him or you’ve just got used to thinking you do.”
“That’s bollocks.”
“Is it?” she said, raising her voice as the bar got busier. “You don’t even bother to look for anyone else these days. It’s easier to tell yourself that Blake’s the only one for you and switch off. That way you never get hurt.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
She glanced around the pub, packed as usual on a Saturday night. “I can see at least three guys within ten feet of us that are exactly your type.” She raised an eyebrow. “Without turning round, tell me where they are.”
Taking a swig of beer, Ian frantically tried to think of who he’d seen stood near them.
And came up with nothing.
Fuck.
“You can’t, can you?” Cate shook her head and tsked. “Because you came with Blake, propped yourself at the bar, and watched him all night. Even though you and I both know he’s going to go home with someone who isn’t you. Why?” Leaning close, she took his hand. “Why fucking torture yourself?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled into his bottle. Fuck it, she was right. He hadn’t looked at another bloke in months. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had even caught his eye. He glanced back at the dance floor, not surprised to see Blake walking towards the exit, blond guy in tow.
“The best way to start getting over him is to pick one of the many willing participants in this bar and go have some meaningless, super-hot sex.” When Ian huffed, Cate raised her eyebrows. “Or have you forgotten how to pick up a bloke?”
“Course not.”
