She hummed as though not believing a word he said, and even though he knew she was doing it to get a rise out of him, he felt it working. The alcohol amped up his need to prove her wrong, and he set his empty bottle down on the bar a little too forcefully.
“Hey,” she chided, snatching it from his hand and tossing it in the recycling. “Want another?”
“Nope.” Ian shook his head, turning his back on her to scan the rest of the pub. He ignored her soft laughter, but when she leaned in, hand on his shoulder, and whispered, “Go have some fun, you deserve it,” he patted her hand to let her know he’d heard.
The pub was packed with all sorts tonight. Some looking like they’d come straight from work, others in tiny shorts and not much else. Despite what Cate thought, Ian didn’t have a type as such. He found himself attracted to a nice smile that reached a person’s eyes more than a particular build or hair colour. He also liked to chat for a bit first. Not that he was opposed to one-offs or anything, but he’d fucked enough wankers to not want to do it anymore. Didn’t matter how hot they were.
He let his gaze wander, but as per usual, no one made him look twice. The dance floor was crammed with attractive people, the bar area too, but none of them held thatsomethingthat Ian was looking for. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. Maybe Cate was right. Maybe he was too hung up on Blake to even notice anyone else.
But what the fuck was he supposed to do about that?
“Excuse me, can I buy you a drink?” The voice held the barest hint of a northern accent, South Yorkshire maybe.
Ian dropped his hand, prepared to politely decline, but the words never came.
The guy standing in front of him was about six one, six two. He had short, dark hair, not that Ian was paying it all that much attention because his gaze was drawn to the soft, slightly sheepish but genuine smile.
“Um... yeah, okay.”Smooth, Ian.
Running a hand through his own hair and suddenly wishing he’d made more of an effort, Ian held out his hand automatically. “Ian Moreton.” It registered a second later. For God’s sake, he was offering a handshake to a potential hook-up. He really was out of practice. “Fuck, sorry.” He went to snatch it back, but a cool, soft hand slipped into his, grip firm.
“Jesse Sykes.” Jesse’s smile grew. “It’s been a while since someone wanted to shake my hand in a place like this.” There was no mocking, just a gentle teasing to his voice and dark eyes that crinkled at the corners.
Ian hoped the low lighting hid his blush. “Force of habit.” He met new people on a daily basis, thanks to his job, but he’d never carried it over to his evening activities before. “And yes, I’d love another beer, thanks.” Turning to the bar, he wasn’t all that surprised to see Cate waiting to serve them, smirk in place.
“What can I get you?” she asked Jesse, already setting Ian’s beer in front of him.
Jesse scanned the shelves behind her. “Whisky neat, please.” He flashed Cate a smile, then turned his gaze on Ian.
In the dim lights of the bar, Jesse’s eyes seemed almost black, the line between iris and pupil hard to detect. The intensity in that look made Ian’s toes curl and his stomach flutter. “Not a beer drinker?” he asked, reaching for his own drink.
“No.” Jesse ran a finger around the top of the glass Cate had given him. “Apart from the odd one of these, I’m not one for alcohol these days.” He took a small sip, then set it back on the counter.
He made it sound as though he’d been around for years, but to Ian he didn’t look much older than late twenties. He didn’t ask though.
With another swig of his beer, he let his gaze wander, taking Jesse in from head to toe and not bothering to be subtle about it. He wanted to give him the right impression after all. The dark jeans and jumper Jesse wore looked expensive—not that Ian was an expert in any way—but they fit him too well to be anything else. Pale, long fingers curled around his glass, and Ian tried to picture them around his cock instead.
The image sent a flash of heat to his groin, surprising him. Only Blake had made him feel like that for the past few months.
Usually Ian liked to talk more than exchanging a few pleasantries, needed to get to know someone at least a little before taking them home, but there was something about Jesse that just... called to him. As corny as that sounded, it was true.
Not wanting to lose the spark ignited inside him, Ian set his bottle down with purpose.
Jesse’s raised eyebrow said he’d noticed.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Ian rested it on his thigh. “My flat is about ten minutes’ walk from here.”
Jesse laughed. “You don’t mess about, do you?”
Ian smirked. This was so out of character for him, he almost didn’t believe it was happening. He caught Cate giving him an odd look. Couldn’t even blame it on beer, either, since this was only his third. He shrugged. “It’s getting late. I don’t want to waste the rest of the night on unnecessary small talk when we could be in my bed. Naked.”
Jesse pushed his drink away and stood, lips curving up into the sexiest smile Ian had seen in a long while. “You make an excellent point.” He gestured towards the exit. “Shall we?”
“One sec.” Ian turned his phone and clicked on the camera. “I’m sure you’re not a serial killer or anything—”
“Not for years.” Jesse grinned at him, eyes alight with amusement.
“Good to know.” He held up his phone. “Mind if I take your picture and send it to Cate?” He nodded at where Cate now stood, watching them. “Just in case you decide to go back to your old ways. At least she’ll have something to show the police.”
