Page 13 of Edge

Jory looked shocked.“Mate, I’m only asking for a heavy-duty Berry Fresher and a packetof Maltesers. I need something for the journey home.”

For a second, Damianwondered where home was. He bet the rock star didn’t live over anold cinema in a small squashed but serviceable apartment. No doubtthere was a damned penthouse somewhere with a bevy of peopleserving his every need.

“Where’sthat?” he blurted out then winced. He hadn’t wanted to overstep themark, but his mouth hadn’t checked in with his brain.

Jory grinned. “Where’shome, you mean? Why? You want to visit me?” He leaned over thecounter and blew a kiss in Damian’s direction. “I’d be up forit.”

“No, youwanker. That wasn’t my intention, I only wanted to… You know what?Never mind. Let me get you your goodies and you can be on yourway.” Damian turned and busied himself making the super-largeslushy, muttering under his breath. God, the man wasinfuriating.

He turned and pushed thedrink across the counter, along with the bag ofMaltesers.

Jory was looking down athis phone, his face dark. The young joker from a minute ago haddisappeared, and in his stead an edgy individual took hisplace.

“Fuck. Leaveme alone, will you? Christ, this is getting ridiculous.” Joryshoved his phone into his jeans pocket, face stormy.

Damian eyed him. “Are youokay? Someone giving you trouble?”

Jory snorted. “You couldsay so.” He planted a five-pound note on the counter. “Keep thechange. Put it in the charity tin or something. Thanks.”

He picked up his drinkand sweets and then turned to walk away swiftly. Damian watched asJory stepped outside and lit up a cigarette, then continuedwalking.

Damian didn’t have theheart to tell him the goods had been more than five pounds andthere certainly wouldn’t be any change. He sighed. He’d pop theextra pound in the till when he tallied up tonight.

It looked as if Mr SexyRock Star had problems of his own.

And shit, bother andcrap. He still hadn’t found out the name of the band.

***

“What’s gotyou in a grump today then?” His friend Scott surveyed Damianshrewdly as he sipped happily at his pineapple Popsicle, a large,tropical cocktail with an umbrella and what looked like half afruit basket in its depths. The Rocking Horse pub was famous forits cocktails.

“Did BernieCrane call you and ask him for his t-shirt back?” He waved a pudgyfinger in Damian’s direction. They sat at an outside table near toDamian’s flat, enjoying the waning sunshine.

“Piss off,”Damian muttered as he whirled his finger around the rim of hissalted tequila sunrise. “I’ll have you know this t-shirt cost me afortune.” He looked down at the motif of Bernie from GTA IV printedin neon shades on the black background. “I bought it at the lastJumpstart Con I went to. Bernie is such a coolcharacter.”

“Huh.” Scottdidn’t look impressed. He wasn’t a gamer and comic geek like Damianwas. He was more into extreme sports, and the two friends weremiles apart in their outside activities. Yet, still, they’d beenbesties since high school. Scott stretched lazily, his large,muscled physique attracting the attention of two appreciativeladies at the next table. Scott winked at them.

“Don’t givethem false hope,” Damian said as he drained his drink. “And also,does Miles know you give the ladies the eye when he’s notaround?”

Miles Delacroix wasScott’s longtime boyfriend, a bespectacled, earnest teacher at alocal school with a rod of iron for a spine. He’d been through alot in his youth but was the dominant one in theirrelationship.

“Mileswouldn’t care,” Scott sighed, his face softening at the mention ofhis boyfriend. “He knows I’m a one-man band when it comes tohim.”

Damian chuckled. “Morelike a damn orchestra. I was in the bedroom next to you two when wewent away to Cornwall for a surfing competition last summer. Thenoises you two made scarred me for life.”

He didn’t reveal he’djacked off to the sounds of the two men having sex, wishing he toohad someone to “relieve his tension” as Scott had put it. He hadpulled one guy, a laid-back surfer called Shaun, with whom he’dspent a fairly memorable night. Shaun had certainly not beenlaid-back in the bedroom, showing an inventive side. Damian stillwasn’t sure how his body had managed to almost turn into a pretzelunder Shaun’s skilled hands. It’d been worth it. Scott grinned. “Wehave a healthy relationship. Besides, I bought you earplugs for theweekend and you refused to wear them.”

Damian grimaced. “I can’tsleep with little bits of mouldable wax in my ears. I stuffed myhead under my pillow and tried to ignore you.”

Liar. My noseis going to grow.

“So, you stillhaven’t told me what put you in an otherwise mood,” Scott prodded.“Did some gorgeous hunk put your nose out of joint? Were youfinally going to get laid?”

Damian snorted. “Gettinglaid wasn’t on the cards. He was such a wanker.” He shrugged.“Doubt I’ll be seeing him again though.”

Scott wiggled his bushycaterpillar eyebrows. “Mate, never say never. He’ll pop up againwhen you least expect it.” He nodded sagely.

Damian had mixed feelingsabout that possibility. Something told him he would be seeing Joryagain, but what, he couldn’t say.