The Hot Floor (12 page)

It looked like I’d never been there at all. Already the whole night was evaporating like a dream on waking. I sighed and wrapped myself back up in Evan’s dressing gown. I made use of their half-destroyed bathroom and grabbed the keys Evan had retrieved from my bathroom shelf using his stepladder, and let myself out of their flat.

The landing was cool in comparison, and I stood there for a few minutes, contemplating whether I’d made a smart move or a huge mistake—both in leaving before they woke up, and in ending up in their bed in the first place. I trudged up the stairs to my flat, telling myself I needed to get my phone and some proper clothes, but really I knew I was just being a coward. It wouldn’t have hurt to stick around for breakfast… Or would it? Would they even have wanted me there? Especially after they’d ended up breaking their self-imposed rules. I really didn’t fancy Rai giving me the evil eye over the cornflakes.

No, it was better I got out of the way and let them both have time to talk things through. Besides, I’d promised Liam I’d help out at the studio. We had all manner of things that needed packing before the big move in a fortnight’s time, and if we had a few spare minutes, he was going to let me make vases. I needed the practice.

I snuck out of the building half an hour later like a thief, tiptoeing down the stairs so as not to risk Rai or Evan sticking their heads out the door.

Chapter Nine

“Something bothering you today?” Liam asked mildly after I’d smashed my second overblown vase into the bosh bucket with a few choice curses.

I touched my forehead to the brick wall and tried to get my breathing back under control.

“Sorry. I don’t really think I’m in the mood for this today. I keep screwing up.”

“You were doing fine, man. You’re learning all the time. That’s what mistakes are for.”

“I must be a really great learner, then, the rate I make them.” I swear, I didn’t mean that to come out tinged with such bitterness, but I hadn’t been able to get that vision of Rai and Evan snuggled up in bed out of my head all morning.

“Hey, chill out. It’ll be fine. Things will ease up after the move, I promise.” Liam sounded genuinely apologetic, so I rushed to reassure him.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t get a great deal of sleep last night. You know, after the bath thing.” I’d given Liam the highly edited version of last night’s events, implying that I’d slept in my own bed after being rescued by Rai and Evan. I didn’t mention anything about the school uniform either. Picture of discretion, I am. It’s just the blushes that give me away, if you know how to read them.

Liam nodded sagely. “Probably best leave it for now then. We’ll have plenty of time to teach you new stuff next week. We’re taking our new assistant on early to give him a chance to learn the ropes before we move. You know him, actually. Bit gothy but a nice young chap. Name of… What was it? Oh yes: Dylan Matthews.”

My head shot up. “Dylan Matthews? Not Dylan who works at the Feathers?”

Liam gave a vague smile. “Is that the gay pub? I think so. You’d have to ask Shannon. She was the one who checked his references.”

“But…” I spluttered. Of all the people in the world, why did they have to pick my ill-advised one-night stand? “Why Dylan? He doesn’t have any glassblowing experience.”

“No, but he knocked spots off all the other time-wasters who applied. Got a BA in Ceramics, apparently, and he’s gobby enough to be good with the customers. Shannon reckons if we get him trained up early, he can do all the spiel while the two of us concentrate on making glass.”

“But Dylan? He’s a…a bit of a slapper,” I finished weakly.

Liam put down his punting iron and stared at me. “He’s a free spirit, that’s all. No need to make judgments.” He frowned. “Dylan said you were friends, anyway. I’m sorry. If I’d realised there was some kind of
history
between you, I’d have asked first.”

My mouth was gaping, but I thought better and shut it. Liam was right. Who Dylan slept with was his own business, not mine. If it hadn’t been for that disastrous night we’d spent together, I probably wouldn’t care myself either.

I’d just have to suck it up.

Bugger, I really needed to stop thinking about sucking. My jaw muscles still felt stretched from blowing Evan, and the memory had my knob perking up entirely without my permission.

I didn’t think I could bear the idea of not getting to do that again, but neither could I bear the idea of wrecking my friendship with the two of them. It was going to be so awkward.

What the hell had I done?

Liam let me off early after we’d packed a few boxes of spare equipment we wouldn’t need for the next couple of weeks. We’d be keeping it simple, sticking to baubles for the most part—as we’d need plenty of them for decorating all those shop windows in the new premises. After we finished, I checked my phone. There was a text from Evan. My stomach went into free fall, but I tapped the screen to open it up.

Lndlrd’s got a man cmng to look at ur bthrm 2day - I can let thm in. R U staying 2nite? E&R

Not a hint of any weird feelings about last night, but nothing particularly warm either. Not that I was expecting Evan to send me a dirty text with a picture of his dick attached—I figured that was more of a Rai kind of thing—but at least I would have known where I was then. Did they want me to stay, or were they just offering out of politeness?

Would I find myself sleeping on the sofa tonight?

As I headed back towards town, I realised I couldn’t bear the idea of heading straight home in case I was ambushed by Rai and Evan, informing me that they couldn’t get up to any more hanky-panky with me, and that our Kerplunk evenings were now cancelled. Maybe they’d even try and find somewhere else to live, away from the evidence of their indiscretion. Yep, when I get morose, the melodrama tends to kick in. I needed a dose of plain-talking to sort my head out.

I texted Denise.

Five minutes later, I was pushing through the main door of the Feathers, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the gloom inside.

“Well, look what the cat brought in,” a sardonic voice with a thick West Country accent drawled from the direction of the bar. “I hope the ‘dragged through a hedge backwards’ look isn’t de rigueur at Sulis Glass.”

I braced my shoulders and slapped a false smile onto my face. “Hey, Dylan.”
 

He smirked at me through the glass he was polishing, the very picture of gothy twinkdom with his carefully sculpted hair, black eyeliner, lip piercing and painted-on jeans. I looked around the bar. Where the hell was Denise?

“Hey, cheer up. I think you look gert lush all smudged with soot. Just like that there Bruce Willis in
Die Hard
, but with hair.”

I glanced in the mirror behind the shelves of brightly coloured mixers and scowled. Great. I’d just walked right through the centre of Bath with a huge burnt-newspaper smudge across my forehead.

“What can I get you, my lover? This one’s on the house, seeing as how we’ll be workmates next week. Isn’t it just totally sick? I mean, I wouldn’t have gone just anywhere after working here, but I figured your boss is hardly likely to be a raving homophobe if he hired you.”

“No, uh, Liam’s a good bloke. And Shannon too. Not that she’s a bloke.”

“No, dearie, I’d figured that out for myself, thanks. Although she does have rather large hands.” Dylan pursed his lips as if he was contemplating Shannon’s hands, then shook his head. “Nope, I’d have picked it up if she had been. I can always tell. So, what’ll it be? Something bubbly? I could mix us both a Kir Royale.”

“Just a lager for me, thanks.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Honestly, are you sure you’re not straight, love?”

“You should know.”

“How could I ever forget?” Dylan arched an elegant eyebrow and gave me a smile loaded with secrets.

I’d meant to refer to Dylan’s frequent boasts of having infallible gaydar, but his knowing smirk made me realise he’d taken my words differently. I could feel the heat spreading across my skin. Why the hell couldn’t I just forget that ill-advised post-pub shag? Well, okay, the skinful I’d had meant the details were a little hazy, but I still had vivid scenes etched in my memory: me coming way too fast; me breaking down and sobbing about Kenny; Dylan, smiling sweetly and saying it didn’t matter if he didn’t come, and he’d toss one off later.

Yeah, it really hadn’t been my best performance.

“There you are,” Denise called, sweeping towards me from the back room. “Come and join me. It’s much cooler back there.” She hugged me, then tutted and started scrubbing at my forehead with a spitty finger.

“Ugh, don’t do that.” I squirmed.

“I could always lick it off, if you prefer,” Dylan offered as he put down my pint of Staropramen.

“Thanks. No! For the lager. Jesus!” Dylan must have stood on a step or something to reach over the bar and lick my forehead. I swiped the saliva off with the back of my hand. “You’d better not do that at work. Liam would have a fit.”

“Hmmm, I’m sure he won’t mind if I confine the spit washes to you.”

I must have looked as terrified as I felt, because Dylan and Denise both started giggling. I took a long gulp of icy-cold lager to cool myself down. Yes, Dylan was a flirt, but he didn’t mean anything by it. It was just who he was, a bit like Rai.

I just happened to wish it was more than that with Rai.

The colours seemed to drain out of the world again, and I saw a look of concern pass over Denise’s face.

“Come on, mate, you look like you need to park your arse somewhere.”

The back room was cooler, as the door to the alley had been propped open. It sent a shaft of incongruous sunlight lancing through the windowless room, and I stared at the dust motes whirling in the beam.

Denise picked the table right by the door and got out her packet of cigarettes. “So, what’s all this I hear about you sleeping over at Rai and Evan’s last night?”

“My bathroom got totalled.”

“Yeah, I saw, but that still doesn’t explain why you chose to sleep there rather than asking me. A girl could feel hurt at being rejected.” Denise didn’t sound particularly hurt, and she was smiling like she was privy to some exciting gossip. Oh God.

“I didn’t want to impose.”

Denise raised her eyebrows and stuck a cigarette between her lips.

“You can’t smoke in here!”

“Relax, I’ll stick my hand out of the door. And don’t change the subject, buster. I’m on to you and your bed-hopping ways.”

I pretended to be fascinated by the condensation running down the sides of my glass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine. If that’s the way you feel about sharing things with your oldest, bestest friend…” Denise trailed off, sounding tearful. I scrutinised her face, trying to work out if it was playacting or genuine. She did look a bit watery-eyed, but then again, her cigarette smoke kept getting blown back into her face by the breeze.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you”—lie!—“but it’s kind of personal. I haven’t figured out how I feel about the situation yet.”

“So you’re admitting there is a situation?”

“Den,” I whined. “Just give a bloke a bit of privacy, all right?”

“I’ll give you your privacy as soon you start remembering to close the window before embarking on your kinky times-table spank-a-thons. God knows I really don’t want to overhear that kind of thing.”

“Oh fuck!” I rested my forehead on the table, wondering if I was hot enough to scorch the varnish. “I’m so sorry.” Sorry for me, mainly, I had to admit.

“It’s cool, baby. Whatever floats your boat. I just never had you down for those kinds of games, that’s all.”

“What have I done?” I groaned.

“Besides shagging the two guys you’ve had the hots for since you moved in? I dunno. You’ll have to tell me. I could hear, but I can’t see through the ceiling.”

“I’ve ruined everything.”

“Why? You all sounded like you were having fun.”

“We were, but how can I be friends with them after this? How can I just act normally when I can remember—er, stuff,” I finished lamely, a pornographic montage flickering behind my closed eyelids.

Denise flicked her cigarette stub outside and gave me a long look. “I know you don’t have any experience with this, Josh, but it is perfectly possible to stay friends with people after you’ve shagged. You don’t have to run away like a frightened rabbit every time.”

“I don’t do that! What about Kenny?”

“Kenny was a bossy shit who wouldn’t let you get away with it, but I remember what you were like after the first time you screwed him. You turned up at my place and started talking about transferring to another uni.”

I winced as her words dredged up a long-buried memory. “Shit, I did, didn’t I?” I’d been freaked out about how to act around Kenny. Worried he was going to tell everyone I was not only easy but that I was crap in bed. The last thing I’d been expecting was that he’d want a relationship with me.

“But there’s Dylan. I was just talking to him.”

“Yeah, and you looked about ready to bolt. Exactly how many times have you been in here since you two got it on?”