Page 28 of Crave You

Christian extends his hand across the table and Zander takes it and smiles. I notice that it’s the old smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Then, I see that there’s a dark mark beneath one of his eyes, that looks like the beginning of a black eye. I feel a stab of concern in my stomach.

“Zan, what happened to your eye?” I ask.

“My eye?” Zander says, looking confused for a moment and then he seems to realize what I’m talking about. “It’s nothing to worry about. The boys and I got into a bit of a fight with Matthew’s lot, but they came off a lot worse than we did.”

“I can imagine,” I say, trying not to smile but doing it anyway.

“I’m going to get us some more drinks,” Christian says in my ear and then he slides out of the seat and heads towards the bar.

“So this is your best friend, then?” Zander says once Christian has gone. I nod my head and Zander smiles. “He seems like a good guy.”

“He is,” I start but Zander isn’t finished yet.

“I get that he’s your friend, but I am more than just a friend and when I text saying I want to see you, I expect you to come over,” Zander says.

“What? No. You can’t put that on me. You don’t own me,” I say, shocked that he would even think such a thing was normal.

“You’re wrong about that,” Zander says with a smile that I would normally find sexy but which I ignore. “I own all of the parts of you that matter.”

“No one owns any part of me,” I say, but my response sounds weak, even to my own ears.

Zander smiles again, this time a condescending smile that makes me want to black his other eye.

“I own you Leona and I am surprised you can’t see the truth of that,” Zander says.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be ranting and raving and telling him I’m not a damned possession. Instead, I feel a shiver of desire run up my spine at his words.

Christian comes back to the table with our drinks, then — a bottle of Stella for him and one for Zander, a gin and lemonade for me, and three shots of something bright red. He hands them out.

“Thanks,” I say.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Zander says.

Christian shrugs.

“I wanted to,” he says. “Cheers,”

He holds his shot up and Zander and I do the same before we down them. The heat of red Aftershock flows down my body as I swallow.

“That’ll put hairs on your chest,” Christian says to me.

“It had better bloody not,” Zander says with a laugh.

We all laugh, then and I start to think it’s going to be OK. Whatever the weird energy around Zander is, he’s not going to let it dominate our evening.

“Tell me about this band, then,” Zander says.

“We play a mixture of metal and hard rock,” Christian says. “Mostly covers, but we slip the odd original in there. We’re playing at The Saxon Mill next Tuesday. Come along if you want.”

“Yeah, we might do that if Leona is free,” Zander says.

I nod my head enthusiastically.

“I’d love for you to hear them,” I say.

Over the next few hours, we drink too much and laugh a lot. Christian and Zander seem to be getting along, which I love, and the strange tension from earlier is all but gone. In fact, I’m wondering if I imagined it. Finally, the bell for last orders goes. We have a final round of shots and then we go outside.

“Do you want a ride anywhere?” Zander asks Christian.

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