Justin couldn’t believe it. Why had this turned into such a disaster? He refused to give up without a fight. He waited for Yena to come around the bar and followed him outside. Yena took out a cigarette and lit up. He offered the packet to Justin.
“I don’t smoke,” Justin reminded him.
“Oh.” Yena pocketed the cigarettes and shifted from foot to foot as he took a long drag. Justin waited. He was starting to sweat in his jacket, but the breeze outside was too crisp to be without it. Out of sight, a bicycle bell trilled.
After a long silence, Justin asked quietly, “Don’t you want to go on another date?”
Yena puffed nervously, hand shaking slightly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Come on, Justin.” Yena flicked his cigarette, dislodging ash to the pavement. “I don’t think we want the same things.”
“How’d you know what I want?” Justin asked. “You haven’t asked me.”
Yena glanced at him briefly, blinking large eyes before he looked away. “You’re right. I haven’t. I guess I assumed….”
He left the rest unsaid.
“Yeah, sounds like it.” Justin felt put out. Why was he so upset? If someone had implied he was fast and loose before, he wouldn’t have cared. This felt different. He didn’t want Yena to think that of him.
“So, what do you want, Justin?”
That brought Justin up short. His drunken words from last Thursday night came back to him. I want you. But he couldn’t say that, could he? That’d be too much.
Wouldn’t it?
Now it was his turn to shift awkwardly. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, somewhat petulant. “Do I have to answer right now?”
Yena was silent for a moment, and with one last drag, he flicked away his cigarette. “No, you don’t have to answer now. I’m sorry if I put you on the spot.”
“’S’alright,” Justin muttered. He cleared his throat. “What exactly do you want?”
Smiling, Yena replied, “Do you really want to know?”
“Er….” Yes. Panic flashed through Justin. Yes. But… is this moving too fast? In a rush, he said, “Why don’t you tell me next time I see you?”
The smile was still there. “How’d you mean?”
You know very well what I mean. Justin smiled back. “On our second date.”
“You really want a second date.”
“Yeah.” The panic was still there, but now Justin realized how much he wanted that second date. “Isn’t that the sort of thing that gets talked about on second dates?” He scuffed his foot on the pavement. “At least give me the chance to seduce you with food and wine.”
Yena burst out laughing. Justin couldn’t help a grin in response.
“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?”
“Oh, my God,” Yena muttered, shaking his head. “Sure, why not. But less wine, okay? I shouldn’t have drunk so much last time.”
“Less wine,” Justin agreed. Less puking too. “How about cocktails?”
The look Yena gave him made him laugh. “Justin, cocktails are worse.”
“Could just have one or two,” Justin said. “Actually, I could do with the practice making them. My boss keeps telling me I suck.”
“Oh?” Yena smirked at him, a twinkle in his dark eyes. “You want to be tutored?”
Now that sounded like fun. Justin nodded eagerly. “Only if you’re the tutor, honey.”
This brought another laugh. Flattery seemed to amuse Yena, but Justin sensed a certain amount of nerves with it. “You’re crazy,” he said, turning to go back in. “I’ve gotta get back to work.”
“I’ll text you,” Justin said quickly. “Second date, yeah? You and me.”
Yena glanced back at him, still smiling. “Okay, Justin. Second date.” He waved and disappeared through the doors.
“Yes,” Justin hissed under his breath, pumping both fists excitedly. Then he remembered that the front of Foxy’s was glass, and everyone inside might be watching him right now. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away whistling.
Chapter Six
DINNER, AT his place. After a conversation via text, it’d been decided that keeping costs down was imperative for both parties this month. Justin was already broke, and Yena said he’d had some unexpectedly large bills come in. Justin’s suggestion of a home-cooked meal was first met by reluctance, but he eventually persuaded Yena it was the best option.
He’d also promised he had no expectations—just dinner, drinks, and maybe dessert if they fancied it. And by dessert, he actually meant the sweet kinds currently chilling in his fridge. Justin surprised even himself by meaning what he’d said: all he wanted was to spend the evening with this gorgeous, intriguing man. If they didn’t end up falling into bed tonight, well, Justin was okay with that.
But if it was offered, Justin wouldn’t say no either.
He had the whole day off. Usually, after working a late shift the night before, he’d sleep until well into the afternoon. Today, Justin was wide awake just after eleven. Tara was still sleeping, so Justin quietly made himself a coffee, measuring in a shot of vanilla syrup, and shuffled back to his room. He’d have to keep the noise down until she was awake, as she was also covering his evening shift tonight.
Six months he’d been in the apartment, and he hadn’t done a whole lot of decorating. He rolled back his blinds, letting the sunlight in, and popped in his earbuds to listen to music on his MP3 player. Then he danced and shimmied around in his pajamas, tidying his room at the same time. He stuck up all the posters that still hadn’t made it onto his walls with Blu Tack. He hung up all his clothes on the rail and covered it in a bright orange tie-dyed throw. His bed needed a makeover, so he changed the sheets, wrestling on brand new ones he’d had for ages but never gotten around to using. Old sheets always felt softer on his skin, but he wanted his bed to look enticing tonight.
He could hope, couldn’t he?
The new sheets were a color wash of dark purples, reds, and golds. He’d picked the set to go with the throw pillows he had in a box, which hadn’t been unpacked yet. Justin arranged his bed neatly, arranging a soft, creamy chenille comforter on top and setting his as-yet-untouched pillows artfully against the wall to create a nest.
Looked pretty good.
He tidied away everything else and was just having a boogie to Boney M when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Justin yelped in fright, making Tara yelp too.
“Tara!” He ripped the earbuds out. “Scare the crap out of me, why don’t you?”
“Sorry!” She breathed deep, hand on her chest. “I was just going to ask if you wanted a coffee.”
“Love one.” Justin usually needed at least two coffees to feel normal again after a late shift. “Then I’m going to head to the market and buy food for tonight. Anything you need?”
“I’ll come with you.” Tara yawned as she shuffled off in her dressing gown and slippers.
Justin was hoping she’d say that. He needed lots of help to organize the meal tonight.
CURRY SHOULD’VE been easy. Justin had suggested it for that reason, and because he also thought Yena would like it. In hindsight, making his own curry pastes and naan breads from scratch was probably a little ambitious.
Coupled with playing ABBA on the stereo in the kitchen meant Justin spent more time throwing shapes and singing along than he did actually cooking. So Tara pointed out, when she dived in to help him. “You’re burning it,” she warned, stirring the saucepan full of biryani. “You haven’t even added the chicken yet, have you?”
Justin paused in his singing of Super Trouper and stared at her blankly. “Oh, yeah. Knew there was something else.”
Tara went to the fridge. “You’re hopeless, Justin.” She brought out the tray of precut chicken pieces and set to work rescuing Justin’s curry.
With Tara in charge, everything went like clockwork. Justin fussed with the kitchen table, laying out a tablecloth and arranging plates and cutlery. He was just brin
ging out the candles and deciding which ones to use when he noticed the time. “Argh!” He glanced down at himself, so not ready. “I’ve barely got an hour till he’s here!”
“Go get ready,” Tara told him. “The curry’s done. All you have to do is reheat it when you’re ready to dish up. I’ll put the rest on the table.”
Justin grabbed her for a hug. “Thank you, Tara bear!”
“It’s all right,” she said with a smirk. “You can owe me a shift swap for this.”
“Anything!” Justin legged it from the kitchen. He had to make himself look beautiful.
Justin finally left his room in his chosen outfit for the evening: casual but form-fitting jeans and a turquoise t-shirt, one of his favorites because it was so soft, completed with his slightly tousled “I just got out of bed and I’d love to get back into it, if you know what I mean” hair.
The conundrum of footwear had delayed him somewhat. He wasn’t about to wear his slippers on a date. He didn’t want to wear shoes indoors either, nor bare feet; the vinyl flooring was clean, but not that clean. In the end, Justin went for a pair of summer flip-flops. His man-flops, as Tara called them.
These were also blue, with little plastic fishes and sea turtles stuck on the straps. Obviously the flip-flops were intended for girls, but Justin didn’t see why he couldn’t join in the fun. Who could resist little plastic fishes and sea turtles?
It’d be a talking point to break the ice, at the very least.
“Ta daa!” Justin burst into the kitchen, intending to wow Tara with his look, but his jaw dropped as he took in what she’d done. The table had been transformed from their dull kitchen one into what could’ve passed as a table in a fancy restaurant. Plates and cutlery were set out, the blinds on the windows were drawn, and more than a few candles were lit. “Oh, wow.” Justin approached the table, marveling at the spread. A plate of pani puri had been set in the center—Justin had cheated and bought those fresh from the Indian deli in town. The platter of small, deep-fried parcels was surrounded by little bowls of condiments: chickpeas, chopped potato, onions, sprouted lentils, and sauces for dipping.
“Your naans are cooling off in the oven,” Tara said, pointing there as if Justin wasn’t sure where the oven was.
Well, he’d give her that.
“Your curry’s on the hob, just reheat it when you want it.” She gave him a steady look. “Think you can manage that, Justin?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m a master at reheating. This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Just look at my wish list online if you feel the urge to thank me.” Tara gave him a hug.
Justin hugged back hard. “Oh, I see. This was all a ploy to get me to buy you another pair of shoes.”
“Seriously.” She looked at him with a smile. “Have fun tonight. I think it’s really sweet you’re cooking dinner for someone. Well,” she added. “Got me to cook. Next time, we’ll start earlier and I’ll give you some tips.”
“Uh.” Justin fought a blush. “If there’s a next time.”
“Why wouldn’t there be?” Tara went to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “You clearly like each other.”
“Umm, well. I have a tendency to screw things up.”
“Nonsense.” Tara glanced down at Justin’s footwear, raised an eyebrow, then shook her head. “Just mind the candles, all right? Blow them out if you leave the kitchen. Don’t traipse off and leave them burning.”
“Hey,” Justin called after her as she walked out. “I do not traipse. I strut.” He practiced sauntering through the kitchen, then up and down the hall. “Why, hello, Yena,” Justin murmured to himself. “Please, do come in.” He sauntered back to the kitchen. Each time he saw the table spread and the candles, his heart did a little jump. “Why, yes, I made everything myself. No”—Justin waved a hand at his imaginary companion—“it wasn’t too much trouble. Not for you, darling.”
Hm, less of the darlings. He was starting to sound like Tam.
The hot water rumbled through the pipes, which meant Tara was in the bathroom, getting ready for work. She’d be gone soon enough. Then Justin would be on his own. Alone until Yena got here.
Why did that make him so nervous?
He’d promised no wine, but Justin needed some alcohol to take the edge off his nerves. Either that or he’d have to call for Tara to bring smelling salts. Rooting through their fridge, he dug out a bottle that Tara must’ve brought back from the bar—orange-flavored beer.
Whatever next.
He cracked off the top and took a swig. The citrusy taste was refreshing, but Justin already considered whether he should have a shot of something stronger instead.
No, best wait.
Glancing up at the clock, he noted it was quarter past seven. Where was Yena? Hurrying back to his room, Justin found his phone and brought it to the kitchen. No messages. He might be traveling on the Underground.
To distract himself, Justin played DJ and changed the music on the stereo. He had to say good-bye to disco for now, and went for chilled instead. Time for Bowie; he put on his collector’s edition of Ziggy Stardust.
At seven-thirty, Justin was fretting. He’d finished his beer and was craving another drink, but he tried to hold off. Tara called good-bye from the hall, and Justin bit his lip against asking her to stay longer. She had to go cover his shift. Relax, he told himself.
About two minutes later, his phone buzzed. Justin lunged for it and read the message.
Outside your flat. I hope.
Justin’s heart hammered as he sped down the hall and threw open the front door. Out in the hallway, Yena stood holding his phone and a large shopping bag. He was facing the other way, obviously having only just exited the lift.
“Hey.” Justin waved. Then he felt silly and dropped his hand, but Yena had already looked up. God, he looked good. Good enough to eat. A light, khaki-colored short-sleeve shirt made Yena’s skin look even more tan, and the rainbow badge over the right breast pocket was too cute. He wore fitted black trousers, and Justin worried upon seeing him that his own look was too casual. He should’ve dressed up more, dammit. Then he noticed the battered Converse on Yena’s feet and felt mildly relieved.
Relax, Justin. Chill the fuck out. He forced himself to smile. “How’d you make it in? I didn’t hear the buzzer.”
“I saw your roommate downstairs.” Yena smiled as he approached. “She let me in and told me what floor to get. Sorry I’m late, by the way. The tube was being slow.”
“Ah, it’s cool.” Justin stood aside, sweeping his arm out grandly to welcome Yena inside. “Come in. Please. Want me to take your bag?”
“If you want.” Yena handed it over, and Justin hadn’t been prepared for the weight. “It’s got all the cocktail stuff.”
“Ooh.” Justin peered inside, as Yena removed his shoes. “Exciting.”
Yena laughed, straightening up. “Well, just basic ones. But you can practice the shaking and pouring if you want.”
“Good plan.” Justin snickered. “I am so terrible at shaking. Last night I showered a couple of ladies with margarita, and then I couldn’t get the shaker off the glass. I whacked it too hard and sent the whole lot flying across the bar.”
“Oh dear.” Yena smiled warmly. “Did you have to remake the drink?”
“Well….” Justin cleared his throat and shut the front door. “Seeing as I’d spilt the lot, my boss banished me to the glass washer while he took over. It was a bit embarrassing.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Justin led the way down the hall, then entered the kitchen, rushing to stow the heavy bag of drinks on the counter. “Did you want to have a drink first, or…?” He turned back to see Yena gaping at the table.
“Oh, wow, that looks amazing.”
Heat flooded Justin’s face; he was so pleased. “Yeah, I, umm…. Tara helped.” Dammit. His carefully rehearsed words escaped him. “Er… so did you want a drink first? It won’t take long to heat up the curry. Or I’
ve got beer?”
Yena dragged his eyes away from the table. He looked somewhat shocked as he met Justin’s gaze and blinked several times. “Umm… sure, a beer’s good. I’ll, er, set up the drinks later and show you.”
Justin grinned at the word later. “Coolio.” He delved into the fridge, bringing out a selection of bottles. “We’ve got pale ale, more pale ale, or some weak and watery Mexican beer.”
Laughing, Yena replied, “I’ll take the weak and watery Mexican, thanks.”
“Right.” Justin used a bottle opener to click the top off. “Lime?” he offered, and then remembered he didn’t have any to hand. “Er, actually, limes are out. Unless there’s some on the table.”
Yena smiled at him. “Justin, don’t you know what you set on the table?”
Busted. Justin feared his expression gave away the answer, as Yena laughed again.
“Sans lime is fine.”
It took a moment for Justin to process that, his brain scatty from nerves. He handed over the bottle of beer and opened a new bottle for himself. “Have a seat,” he said, turning to the stove for something to do. “I’ll, erm, just get it ready.”
“Sure you don’t want a hand?”
Justin shook his head and waved at Yena to sit down. “I’m cool, babe. Just relax.” Fuck, what am I doing? Justin peered into each saucepan. Rice in one. Curry in the other. Okay, fine, reheat the curry. What about the rice? Was it cooked yet? Fuck. He sneaked a glance; Yena had seated himself at the table and was busy looking up at the pictures on the wall. While he was distracted, Justin stuck his fingers in the rice to snag a couple of grains, popping them into his mouth.
They were fluffy and still warm. Oh, thank God. Already cooked, he could just add some hot water to reheat. Phew.
“Nice kitchen,” Yena said.
Justin was usually good at multitasking, but tonight, not so much. He was distracted. He did manage to fill the kettle with water from the sink. “Thanks. It’s a nice flat, actually.”
“Just you and Tara?”
“Yeah.”
“Who’s the Elvis fan?”
Glancing around, Justin saw Yena looking at one of the larger posters on the wall. “Oh.” He grinned. “That’s my dad.” He carried the kettle back to the counter and turned it on to boil.
Love on the Rocks (Bar Tenders) Page 6
