Page 40 of Animal Instincts
The sound of the crowd on the harbour front met them before they turned the corner. The sun was near to setting and the lights strung up outside The Fisherman’s Arms twinkled their soft jewel colours. The light on-shore breeze was tinged with warmth, and the promise of summer, which lay just over the horizon. Drinkers from the pub spilled out onto the harbour, a few of whom held guitar cases. Joss wished Oliver would play, but if the night was a success, then perhaps he could be persuaded for next time… Joss shivered as the words, not for the first time, tripped down his backbone.
“You cold?” Oliver asked, tipping his head to the side.
“No, I’m fine. Come on, let’s get a drink.”
* * *
“Two pints of Badger’s Arse, Ry,” Joss called out when he and Oliver fought their way to the bar. “No, I’m getting these,” Joss insisted, stopping Oliver’s hand from delving into his trouser pocket for his wallet.
Ryan’s head snapped up, his surprise filled eyes darting from Joss to Oliver, and back to Joss.
Joss held Ryan’s gaze, just for a beat, before Ryan’s mouth curled into a wry smile.
“So, a snog and a feel up in the cellar’s off, then?” Ryan asked, under his breath.
“What happened last New Year’s Eve stays in last New Year’s Eve.” Joss whispered, but he needn’t have bothered.
The noise in the pub was crushing his eardrums and Oliver had been snagged by the tetchy, bouffant-haired literary lovey, swathed in a bright green poncho, and brandishing some sheet music. Joss frowned; the guy was getting a little too close for his liking.
“Ah, you’ve broken my heart,” Ryan chuckled as he pulled the pints. “But you’d better rescue your boyfriend.” He nodded to Oliver, whose retreat was stalled by the crush in the pub.
“Come on, babe.” Joss’ voice was louder than he’d intended. “Let’s get ourselves settled.” A few nearby heads turned their way, but he didn’t care, as he plucked at Oliver’s sleeve and pulled him away.
In the marquee, they found their table with the Reserved sign on it. The main event wasn’t due to start for another twenty minutes, but most of the tables were already full, and it’d soon be standing room only.
“Babe?” Oliver raised a brow.
Joss groaned. “Sorry. It seemed to be the best way of getting you away from the guy. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive.”
“He was just being friendly. He’s a newcomer, much as I am.” Oliver looked at Joss from over the rim of his glass.
The guy wanted to be more than friendly, it was on the tip of Joss’ tongue to say, when the twinkle in Oliver’s eyes stopped him. Joss tutted.
“No need to be concerned on my account. Elderly gents with a penchant for too much botox and green ponchos don’t exactly press my buttons.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed as the edge of his mouth lifted in a tiny smile.
Joss’s stomach twisted in a hard knot, and the air was crushed from his lungs. Buttons. He wanted to press every one of Oliver’s buttons over, and over, and over. Sweat beaded on his brow. His heart crashed against his ribs. His cock, swollen and aching, pulsed behind the denim walls of its prison. The pub was too hot, too crowded and all he wanted was to grab hold of Oliver and drag him away, to finish what they’d started on—
“Oliver. Fancy seeing you here.”
Joss and Oliver both snapped their heads up at once.
An assured, handsome guy stared down at them. Joss blinked. He recognised him, he’d seen him around…
“Hello, James,” Oliver said.
James grinned, and threw a wink at Joss, who answered with an uncertain smile. Despite James’ broad grin, Joss could feel the weight of the guy’s assessment. It irritated him, being made to feel like a bug under the microscope, and Joss forced himself to meet the other man’s hard scrutiny.
A moment’s silence settled between them all, but James seemed immune to it. His grin grew bigger as he looked between Oliver and Joss.
Oliver rolled his eyes.
“James, this is Joss, Joss this is James. I should warn you, Joss, this man is extremely irritating, arrogant, and believes himself to be god’s gift—”
“Such fulsome praise. Now we’ve been formally introduced, you don’t mind if we join you?” James dragged a couple of seats from the as yet unoccupied table next to them, and sat down at their table. “Perry will be — ah, here he is. My husband,” James added.
All of James’ showiness dropped away as both his smile and the light in his eyes softened as a small, dark-haired man made his way towards them.
Perry smiled as he hovered at the table before taking his seat. It was shy, a little self-conscious, but warm and genuine, and before more than a few words of greeting were exchanged, Joss knew he liked him.
