by Ashley John
Joshua started to toss the shots back without waiting for Levi. He watched as Levi tried to catch up, pausing between each one as Joshua tossed them back without a second thought.
“Fuck,” Levi winced, wiping his mouth, “tonight isn’t the night for this.”
“Shut up and drink your last shot,” he pushed the last one to Levi but he shook his head and pushed it back.
“You have it. I’m jet lagged, dude.”
Not wanting to turn down more alcohol, Joshua emptied the shot glass and slammed it on the counter. His mind wandered to the money again and he thought about how he was going to get it. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he forced his eyes to focus as he scrolled through the contacts. He’d changed his phone dozens of times since he’d left home but he’d never changed his SIM card so all of his old numbers were still there.
He scrolled through them as quickly as possible, not wanting to see ‘Dad’. When he landed on the name he was searching for, he tapped the tiny green icon and pressed the phone into his ear.
“Who are you calling?” Levi tried to pull the phone away from him.
“Family lawyer. He’s probably been trying to find me for the last year,” he batted Levi’s hand away.
Tobias Cole wasn’t only the family lawyer, he was the man responsible for keeping Joshua out of prison for most of his teenage years. Every time he was caught with a bag of weed in his pocket or caught driving twice the legal drinking limit, Tobias would get him off the hook.
“Tobias Cole speaking.”
The familiarity of the voice sent a cold shiver running down Joshua’s spine. He spoke in the same hurried tone, which always gave Joshua the impression his mind was always trying to think about multiple cases at once. He imagined him sitting at his desk wearing an Armani suit with his dark hair slicked back. He’d always reminded Joshua of the type of men who played Italian mafia members in movies but he had a private school, posh boy accent.
“Tobias, my old friend,” Joshua couldn’t help but grin, “It’s Joshua. Joshua Silverton.”
He pressed the phone into his ear, as he heard a roar of laughter take over the bar. He peeked over his shoulder to one of the booths and it was filled with young professional types, all wearing suits and dresses. They were hanging on the words of one man, who was sat at the top of the table. He seemed to be telling them a story.
“Joshua,” Tobias coughed, “how are you doing, lad?”
“I’m good,” he didn’t know if he was, “I just found out about dad.”
“Found out what?”
“That he died,” it felt weird to say it out loud.
Tobias paused and sucked the air through his teeth before speaking, “You only just found out? I wondered why you weren’t at the funeral.”
“Yeah,” Joshua cut him off before he could say anymore, “You probably dealt with his will. I just want to know what happened with it?”
Tobias paused again and this time it was even longer. Joshua quickly checked the screen to see if the call was still connected.
“Tobias, are you -,”
“Can we meet?” Tobias lowered his voice, “I’d rather not discuss this over the phone. Sensitive subject matter. Tomorrow? You can meet me at my office.”
Tobias gave him the address of his new office on Fleet Street before he ended the call. He couldn’t shake the uneasy tone to Tobias’ voice. He’s just surprised to hear from you, that’s all.
“Tomorrow,” Joshua winked to Levi, “everything changes tomorrow, but tonight, we’re going to get absolutely smashed! We need a good wild night out, London style.”
The barmaid slid another tray of shots towards them on Joshua’s command and she happily accepted another tip. It caused her to bite her lip and hide her face under her blonde curls. I’ll have her in my bed before midnight.
“I’m done,” Levi slapped the bar and slid off the stool, “I’m going back to your cousin’s place.”
He shrugged apologetically without looking Joshua in the eye. Joshua wasn’t sure if he wanted to drink alone.
“What? No! You can’t leave me. I just bought more shots,” Joshua could hear the begging in his voice.
Levi was his best friend and his partner in crime. They always had the best time, regardless of where they were. He needed Levi there to make sure he had fun because he didn’t want his mind to start wandering to the dark places.
“I’m jet lagged, I’m tired and I’m still on Indian time. If you have any sense, you’ll come with me.”
Knowing there was no changing Levi’s mind he felt the anger surge through him. Reaching out for a shot, he noticed the shaking in his fingers.
“Fuck off,” Joshua lifted the tiny glass to his lips, “get out of here. I’ll find somebody who wants to party.”
He shot a wink over towards the blonde barmaid and she looked up from the customer she was serving to throw one back. It looked like he was sticking around.
“Whatever. I don’t know who you are right now but you’re not yourself. I’m out of here.”
“Dick!” Joshua called after him.
Levi held his middle finger up over his shoulder, before pushing the heavy door and disappearing into the rain.
Shifting in his seat, he looked around the bar to see if people had noticed he was now alone. Everybody knew drinking alone was the most depressing thing a person could do. His eyes wandered over to the booth filled with beautiful people. The leader’s eyes caught Joshua’s for a split second, causing him to turn back to his tray of shots.
“Drink with me?” he called to the barmaid.
She twirled a stray piece of hair around her finger, cautiously accepting the drink.
“I shouldn’t drink when I’m working,” she whispered.
“Live a little.”
She tossed it back and slammed it on the counter, a warm smile spreading across her face.
“You didn’t see that,” she leaned across the bar, her voice dropping seductively.
“See what?”
She bounced back on her heels and smiled. She was gorgeous but she could have been any girl. Joshua just needed a distraction and she fit the role perfectly.
“What time do you get off?” he asked.
Squinting, she assessed Joshua. He could tell she was figuring out if she should tell him. She glanced down to the money poking out of his full wallet.
“In an hour.”
“Good.”
She leaned against the bar and his eyes quickly dropped down to her cleavage.
“Why?” she leaned in, “What do we have planned?”
“We?” he smiled, “We have planned whatever you want to do.”
“Well, that sounds like -,”
“’Scuse me darlin’, can a man get a drink around here?” she was cut off by a thick, East London accent.
Joshua spun around in his chair to discover it was the man from the booth. Joshua instantly noticed how sickeningly handsome the stranger was. His dark eyes ignored Joshua as they looked to the barmaid.
“Excuse yourself,” Joshua shot back, “we were in the middle of a conversation.”
The man stopped leaning against the bar and turned to Joshua, as if he’d only just noticed he was sat there. His dark brows furrowed humorously, as a small smirk fluttered across his plump, dark lips. They were framed perfectly by his neatly clipped, black stubble.
“And now you’re not,” he laughed, his cockney accent had a mix of something more refined, smoothed over the top, “can we get some bottles of champers over at my table?”
He turned to the barmaid again, seeming to forget Joshua was even there. He didn’t know if it was the whiskey, which was causing his sudden bravery but he reached out and shoved the man’s shoulder.
“Don’t serve him,” Joshua shot at the barmaid.
“I’m just doing my job,” she mumbled, already pulling the champagne from the fridge behind the counter.
“Cheers,” his voice was deep, rich and slightly ha
rsh.
A voice like that didn’t belong in a suit that expensive, it belonged at Hackney Market, selling fruit and veg.
He grabbed the bottles but he didn’t leave the bar, instead turning to Joshua. His eyes flicked up and down Joshua’s outfit, obviously judging his scruffy denim shorts and loose white vest. He had a couple of beaded necklaces around his neck, which he’d picked up on his travels and matching ones around his wrists. His tattoo-covered arms were left to speak for themselves.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” the man leaned in slightly, his hot, beer-tinted breath hitting Joshua in the face, “because if you weren’t, I’d paste your pretty little arse up and down this bar.”
Joshua turned to the barmaid and snorted but she raised her hands and walked away, the seductive smirk gone.
“Are you serious?” Joshua laughed in the man’s face.
“Serious about what? You being cute or me flattening you?”
The way the man spoke made his stomach rumble in a way he didn’t recognise. He noticed how handsome the man was again, his cheeks so sharp they looked like they could cut glass. Why does it feel so good to be called cute by a guy? He shook those thoughts from his mind, focusing on the anger in his chest.
“You’re funny,” Joshua said flatly, “nice one.”
“I’m not joking,” he relaxed his face and placed the bottles on the counter, leaning his arm against the bar.
Just from the way the suit creased around his body, Joshua knew that his torso was perfect. He was likely a banker or a lawyer but he also looked like he should be advertising aftershave or expensive underwear on a billboard.
Joshua glanced over at the table the man had been sat at. It was filled with young guys and girls who were all stylishly dressed, not that Joshua knew what the latest styles or trends were in England. They seemed to be chatting, happy to entertain themselves in their leader’s absence. He didn’t know why he assumed that the man was the head of the group but he just had that air about him. Without saying a word, Joshua could sense his inflated self worth and ego. I can practically smell it. Or was that the spicy, deep aftershave that was tickling his nostrils?
“Whatever,” Joshua sighed in defeat, turning back to the bar.
He wasn’t in the mood for a fight and the adrenaline was already starting to wear off. He could feel the different alcohols mixing uncomfortably in his stomach and the jet lag was viciously creeping in.
“Is that all I get?” he smirked, “’Whatever’? I gave you a compliment.”
“And?”
“And it’s polite to give one back,” his dark hazel eyes focussed severely on Joshua, his thick and full brows dropping, darkening them even more.
He couldn’t decide if the stranger was for real, or not.
“It’s polite not to interrupt a conversation,” Joshua reached out and grabbed another shot.
“She was never going to have sex with you.”
“What?”
“Amy, she was never going to have sex with you,” he repeated.
She was called Amy? Had he even bothered to ask her name before he started to throw money at her? His sudden seediness made him feel uneasy.
“Whatever.”
“There you go again with the ‘whatever’. An accent like that only comes from the best education, and yet -,” his voice trailed off.
“And yet?”
“Well,” he looked Joshua up and down again, “here you are, dressed like this.”
He smirked again and Joshua had the strongest urge to wipe that smirk off his face. Why did he have to be so handsome and why did Joshua need to keep noticing?
“What-,” he stopped himself from saying it a third time, “how do you know she wouldn’t have fucked me? I thought you said I was cute?”
“Oh, you are,” he nodded, a hunger in his eyes, “but I see Amy do that bitey-lip thing every other night. She’s pretty and she’s smart, and she has a kid at home, so she knows what she needs to do.”
“And you know all this because?”
“I know this city,” he looked Joshua up and down again, “and I don’t know you.”
“I know this city too,” Joshua dismissed the stranger as the shininess of his expensively tailored suit caught his eye, “and I don’t know you either.”
“Ezra,” he held out his hand.
Joshua didn’t shake it. He stared at the hand in front of him, trying to figure out what angle the guy was trying to play. His nails looked perfectly manicured and soft, with just the perfect amount of white showing, and no more.
“I didn’t ask for your name,” Joshua reached out for another of the shots.
“Now you know who I am,” he didn’t move his hand, “but I still don’t know who you are.”
“And you won’t,” Joshua ran his hands through his blonde mop, tucking it behind his ears as the tiredness took hold of his mind.
“It’s polite to shake someone’s hand when they offer it.”
Who is this creep?
The corners of Ezra’s mouth turned up to form perfectly soft dimples in his dark stubble, which contrasted against his angular, chiselled face. If somebody could have created a polar opposite of how Joshua looked, Ezra was it – But damn, he’s gorgeous.
“Were you raised by Mary Poppins?” he winced at the shot, “I don’t care what’s polite and what isn’t.”
“Nah, me neither,” Ezra finally dropped his hand and reached out to pick up one of the shots.
Keeping his dark eyes fixed on Joshua, he lifted the glass to his lips to slowly drink it, his lids not blinking or fluttering. It transfixed Joshua how he didn’t wince or even acknowledge the alcohol. From what he could remember, the bankers and lawyers were the worst drinkers of the lot. Ever so gently, his tongue poked out, licking up the green leftovers.
“You going to pay for that?”
“Something tells me you don’t need the money,” Ezra’s eyes narrowed on him.
Ezra was trying to figure him out. He was looking at Joshua in a way that made him feel uncomfortable and he couldn’t put his finger on why. His mind kept wandering back to the compliment he’d given him. Did he say I was cute to get in my head? It’s working. Joshua would be damned if he returned the compliment.
“Something tells me your friends are going to be missing you.”
“They’re fine,” he jumped up and sat on the stool, ignoring the two green bottles of expensive champagne on the bar.
Glancing over to the table, Joshua noticed that a couple of them were looking over but they didn’t seem bothered that they had been ditched.
“It’s not polite to sit uninvited.”
“So now you want to play by the rules?” Ezra’s hand darted down to his crotch, to adjust the tight fabric and Joshua’s eyes couldn’t help but dart down with it.
He did that on purpose.
Joshua got the distinct impression the man was trying to fuck with him, so he’d have a funny story to tell the guys back at the table when he finally decided to return with their drinks.
“Are you going to tell me your name?”
“Nope.” Joshua shook his head.
“Why?”
“Don’t want to.”
“But why?”
“Because I don’t know you!”
“Sure you do. I’m Ezra,” he held his hand out again but Joshua ignored it until he dropped it.
He wanted so badly to hate the man but he had so much charisma, it was hard not to get sucked in. He reminded him of those smarmy car salesmen who somehow managed to get you to drive away in a car worth double what you wanted to pay.
“Well, Ezra, I’d like to say it’s been nice chatting, but it hasn’t, so -,”
“Come and join us,” he nodded over to the table, “we’re heading to Shoreditch later.”
“Well, I’m not,” he’d completely abandoned his earlier plans to find a girl in the city.
“Why are you drinking alone?” his eyes darted to the shots.
<
br /> “Because I want to?”
“Nobody wants to drink alone.”
“I do.”
“But somebody was sitting with you and he left,” his eyes narrowed to dark slits, “was he your boyfriend?”
“No!” Joshua sounded more outraged than he’d intended.
“Good.”
So, this dude is gay?
That was his game? Somehow, this sudden admission didn’t come as a shock to Joshua because he’d sensed it from the minute he’d stood next to him at the bar.
Ezra’s thick lashes fluttered, making his dark eyes twinkle under the spotlights, just as Levi’s had done an hour ago but Levi’s hadn’t made Joshua’s stomach knot.
“I’m going home,” Joshua slid away from the bar, picking up his jacket from the stool next to him.
“Don’t leave because of me,” Ezra jumped up, grabbing the bottles again, “here, if you’re going to sit on your own, at least do it in style.”
He handed one of the bottles to Joshua and instinctively, he accepted it. Why did I do that?
“I don’t need charity.”
“It’s a gift,” Ezra grinned, flashing his white teeth, “you look like you need a distraction.”
Is he some kind of mind reader?
“Whatever,” it slipped out before Joshua could stop it.
Ezra laughed, dropping his head slightly. He clutched the bottle with both hands and nodded to Joshua, as if to thank him for playing along.
Joshua had no idea what had just happened but he knew how much the champagne in his hands cost and there was no way he was going to let it go to waste.
Thanks for the distraction, Ezra.
The mysterious blonde at the bar intrigued Ezra Steele. A cute, 21-year-old twink was rubbing his hand against Ezra’s crotch under the table but he wasn’t paying attention. The enigma across the bar had all of his attention.
Who is he?
He watched as he poured himself another glass of the £92 champagne with his colourfully tattooed hands. He was drinking it as if it was tap water. His clothes were worn, his hair was scruffy and he acted like a man who’d never grown out of being a teenager but there was something behind it all.
