The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  A polished shine reflected in the mirrors behind the bar, making the place feel bigger but didn’t remove the intimate atmosphere. The whole wall opposite the bar housed leather booths and tables with dark wooden chairs. The middle of the floor between the bar and the back wall housed several wooden tables at varying degrees of height. Joe figured it was to allow for those standing to have somewhere to place their drinks.

  He liked the concept but not as much as he liked the glittering tea lights that sat on the tables. They gave a sense of romance to the space. Glowing lights hit the dark wood and reflected off the decorations, allowing colourful displays of sparkles to hit the walls around them. It made him think of a sparkling winter wonderland.

  He hadn’t expected to like the fancy cocktail bar. He was pleasantly surprised and really glad Brad had insisted they come here for drinks.

  His musings were interrupted when a cute waiter sashayed up to the table. Joe thought he had a kinda bad boy attitude going with his long, spiky black hair. Hair that fell over half his face, covering one of his silver eyes. The fitted black trousers were paired with a black figure-hugging shirt and a turquoise bow tie. Showing off his willow slim body and legs that seemed to go on forever. Joe gave him an appreciative smile. When it was returned, Joe felt his grin widen.

  One of our team it would seem.

  Joe rubbed his hands together in glee at thoughts of a fun night when the sexy waiter spoke.

  “What can I get you gentlemen to drink?”

  Joe couldn’t resist flirting outrageously with the cute guy, who’d introduced himself as Ste. He relaxed when Nick and Greg joined in with the sexy banter. He gave Brad a nudge when Ste left to get their drinks.

  “What’s up with you? You can join in. It’s only harmless fun.”

  When Brad buried his head in his hands, Joe raised his brows at Nick and Greg’s concerned expressions. He wasn’t sure what he’d said to upset his friend.

  “I’m sorry, Brad, I didn’t mean any harm. I was joking. You know that, right?”

  Brad’s head shot up. His mortified expression did nothing to get rid of jumping frogs in his belly.

  “Listen, stop jumping to conclusions.” Brad leant towards him, whispering, “I’m just not sure whether that guy was here when I made a complete tit of myself, that’s all.” He sat back, rolling his eyes to the ceiling when they all burst out laughing.

  Joe tried to rein in his laughter, hiccupping. “Who… cares… you had fun. And if I remember correctly… he wasn’t in the bar, that I… could see, anyway.” Joe stopped when they all turned their attention to him, making him swallow back his hiccups.

  “How would you know that for sure?” Brad’s question brought Joe up short.

  “Err… well… I may… have watched it… one or two times.” Joe knew his cheeks were probably a fiery red. He felt them flame under the scrutiny of the others.

  He shrugged, not sure how his confession was going to go down.

  He chewed his lip, attempting to find the right way to confess. “I—” He stopped when Ste brought their drinks to the table. He waited till everyone had their drinks and Ste had left them with a flirty wink.

  He took a fortifying gulp, feeling the alcohol seep into his bloodstream. He took another big gulp before speaking. “Confession time. But remember fight club. What’s said in fight club, stays in fight club, okay?”

  He motioned for the others to get closer when they all nodded. They all moved in unison. He felt the air of expectation around the table rise. “I’ve always been a bit of a voyeur. Like, I like to watch others. It’s my thing. I also liked to film myself in the past and sometimes with guys I’ve dated. Then watch it back. I’m not right keen on porn, but watching yourself with someone…” He shrugged. “That definitely floats my boat. So anyway, I may have watched Brad dancing around the bar a couple of times. It was sexy as hell.”

  Joe gave a sheepish smirk when Brad’s cheeks flamed.

  “I’m not sorry. You’re fit as fuck, Brad. And though you don’t make me want to get all naked with you, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to watch you and Martin. Hell, half the time you two are together, I spring a boner with the way you two go at it in front of us. I bet the others do too.” Joe shot Greg and Nick a look and saw joint nods.

  He roared with laughter when Brad, who’d just taken a sip of his drink, spat it across the table, choking. He barely missed hitting Greg, who cried with laughter when Brad, yet again, buried his head in his hands.

  Joe gasped. He wiped at the table with napkins. “Ah, come on, you must enjoy it? You’re always climbing up Martin, humping him like a dog in heat. Hell, I think you secretly get off on us watching you.”

  Brad’s head rose up quickly as he fired back, pointing at Joe, then Greg. “I bet you and Stuart look pretty hot together too, and Greg and Aaden.” His eyes danced with humour. Joe could see the minute he finally let go of his embarrassment.

  Joe gave him a sassy grin. “I haven’t filmed us yet, but don’t say anything. Stuart has agreed I can film us, with me topping. The last time I did, it was with Aaden. And I tell you I would have given anything to have filmed…” Joe felt everyone still.

  He felt the colour drain from his face. He realised too late that his brain hadn’t been engaged before he’d had verbal diarrhoea. He darted a look at Greg. He wanted to groan at how stark his freckles stood out against his now pale face.

  Joe felt his pulse spike, making him choke for a second. He rushed to defend what he’d said, raising his hands. “No, no, Greg, it’s not what you think. I didn’t have sex with Aaden. I promise.” Joe hastily carried on trying to explain what had happened between Stuart, Aaden, and him. Only when Greg’s rigid back relaxed a fraction did he let go of his breath.

  “So let me get this straight. You didn’t have sex with Aaden. He was fully clothed throughout. Stuart lay on top of him while you fucked him on the stairs.”

  Joe wanted to sink through the floor when Greg laid it out like that. Instead he just nodded, not looking at the other two.

  “Okay. You didn’t touch what’s mine. The way I look at it, you haven’t broken the friend’s code.”

  Joe was about to thank Greg when he carried on.

  “However, that being said, you owe me. And I think I know the perfect way to repay me. I want to watch you and Stuart.” The shocked silence at the table seemed to go on forever until Nick burst out laughing.

  “You guys slay me. I love this. I think I’m gonna move to the island permanently because I’ve never had friends quite like you lot.” Nick carried on chuckling, making Joe release the finger he chewed.

  “I want to watch too.”

  Joe’s eyes all but fell out of his sockets at Brad’s quiet demand and the blatant arousal he could see in his sea-green eyes when he turned to look at him. A desire that seemed to have been provoked by their conversation, a conversation, he knew Martin was going to blame him for. That will be right before he kills me.

  Joe groaned. “How the heck did I get myself in this mess?” He held up his hands when Brad pointed at him. “Okay, I started it. This feels like truth or dare. Are you in?” Joe’s thoughts that they’d change their minds died when he got two loud shouts of “dare.”

  How the hell was he going to explain this to Stuart?

  He suddenly remembered what Brad had said yesterday. “Well, that’s another fine mess you got me into, Stanley.” He shook his head at the three laughing fools, who were scratching their heads, mimicking Brad’s high screeches.

  Yep, another fine mess I’ve got myself into.

  On the sixth day of Christmas my true friends gave to me:

  The new boyfriend and the banker

  Greg

  18th December

  Greg waggled his wrist in front of his face and peered at the time. Midnight.

  How the fuck can it be midnight? They’d only just got there.

  He grinned at his three blurry friends. “You guysss know it’sss mi
d… night, righttt?” He giggled at the slurred voice that sounded a little like him.

  A nagging thought had him try to pull it to the front of his muddled brain.

  It’s Monday?

  Oooohhh, work!

  Greg sagged back into the booth, pushing the hair out of his face. He tried to think past the alcohol cloud. He lost his train of thought when Brad’s phone vibrated crazily across the table for the umpteenth time. He started to think that the night was over. With the slight worry about work floating about with the alcohol, he wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not.

  He shrugged, finding himself giggling at the rebellious glint in Brad’s tropical green eyes while looking at the phone in his hand. The purposeful swipe to decline the call caused an air of expectation as they all waited for Joe’s phone to ring. As predicted, a second later it rang. They all burst into fits of giggles.

  Eyes leaking with tears, he watched Joe follow suit, swiping to decline the call before laying it back on the table. Joe’s soppy grin and muttered “fight club” had them all nodding drunkenly at each other.

  This had been their pattern over the last few hours. Hell, he was shocked when even Aaden had got on board with whatever Martin and Stuart were up to, and rang him and Nick several times. They’d both joined the “we’re on a night out, so fuck them” club.

  “Oooohhh, you gonna be in twroble.” Greg stated, lifting his drink, squinting at the glass. His hand swayed as he drained it. Feeling an odd tug at the back of his mind, he raised his empty glass to his face, narrowing his eyes to see if he could spot what had given him the odd feeling. He peered closer and shrugged. He ignored the nagging feeling and glanced towards the bar.

  I just need another drink, that’s all.

  The bar had busied up as the evening had worn on, and now it was packed to the gunnels. The buzz around them made it difficult to be heard. Greg tried to get his eyes to centre on Ste, observing him for several minutes bustling around the back of the bar making drinks before he finally caught his eye.

  He gave Ste a big soppy smile as he approached the table. He cast a glance at the others who were all talking over each other. Greg shouted, “Let’ss have another round.” He didn’t wait for an answer and ordered for them all.

  “Same again, Ste. Make em large.” Greg batted his lashes at Ste.

  He got a devilish grin back. Greg couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped at the exaggerated eye roll Brad gave him or Nick’s loud moan before he buried his head in hands.

  Greg gave an overstated wink at Ste before becoming distracted by his tight backside as he walked away, scribbling on his pad. At first, Greg didn’t notice the chill of cold air brushing against his heated skin. Peering at the open door, he cursed the chatting person holding the door open wide.

  Greg felt the alcohol roil in his stomach when it dropped. A shiver raced up his spine. His alcohol-clouded vision glued itself to the door and the all too familiar figure standing with his back to him.

  He blinked.

  Then tried again, hoping to clear the vision in front of him.

  He moaned. “Why tonight?”

  “Whatsup, Greg” Nick’s tinkling voice hardly penetrated as Greg watched Vic scope out the area while talking to several of his mates as they moved towards the crowded bar.

  Greg tried to remember not to stare at his arsehole ex. Shifting his gaze to the table, he picked at the beer mat. All three pairs of eyes pinned him with what he thought might be a questioning look, but in his drunken state, he wasn’t too sure.

  He remembered this was fight club, so he leant over the table, stage whispering. “Don’t look, but my ex-boyfriend just came in and is standing at the bar.” He wanted to slap a hand over his mouth when all three heads turned quicker than fire spreading in the dry forests of California towards the bar. Instead, he buried his head in his hands, groaning, before it quickly popped back up when he felt the room spin.

  He couldn’t hold back his despair when Brad’s slurred strident voice carried across the bar. “Which one is it? There all uuuu… gl…ly. I can’t see that you’d date oneofthem.”

  “Oh dear God, pleassseee be quiet he’ll hear you.” Greg uttered the words too late.

  He watched in horror as Vic turned to face the room. His beady eyes skimmed the room, halting when they got to Greg. The pallid shirt and dark fitted trousers showed off his trim figure. But Greg noticed the powder-blue shirt just made Vic’s face appear washed out. His dark mahogany hair also looked like it could use a good stylist. Greg peered closer, trying to understand what he’d actually seen in him.

  The ugly glint in Vic’s eyes had Greg hiding his hands under the table. He wrung his fingers together, willing himself to sit still, all the while reminding himself he’d done nothing wrong.

  Joe seemed to suddenly catch on to the atmosphere when he looked from Greg to the now fast-moving Vic, who pushed past several people to reach their booth.

  “Who’s this dickhead?”

  He flicked Joe a warning look before he answered his question, or he hoped that’s what he’d done. “This is my… ex-boyfriend… Vic.” Greg enunciated the ex-boyfriend part.

  Greg couldn’t grasp what Vic was trying to convey when his intimating glower landed on him. Whatever it was, he decided right then and there that he wanted no part of it.

  He knew he was being rude by not introducing his friends, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

  “Found yourself some new cling-ons?” Vic cast his eyes around the table before searching the bar. “No Gemma? I thought you two were joined at the hip.” His snarky comment had Greg’s back going up.

  “If we were joined at the hip, it might have stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life: dating you.” Greg wanted to groan at his own stupidity for bating Vic. He knew he wouldn’t let that comment drop and leave.

  Ste’s return with their drinks gave Greg a moment to collect himself. He took a large slurp, hoping that Vic would just leave them alone. His hopes died when the expected rant started. Vic’s shrieking drew the attention of his friends and those standing by their booth.

  To Greg’s dismay, Vic’s friends strolled from the bar with their drinks as if getting ready to join the fun.

  “I was the best thing that ever happened to your scrawny arse. You were just too blind or stupid to see it.”

  Greg bit his lip to stop the instant response that wanted to leap out of his mouth. He sucked his lip into his mouth, clenching it with his teeth, as Vic continued.

  “Fuck, I was stupid to think you were even in my league. It was a pity shag. That’s all I could muster, and even that was a struggle. Hell, I didn’t even want to be seen in public with you. Look at the state of you.” The disparaging comments threw Greg for a loop. They sliced open the sensitive spot inside he tried to keep hidden.

  Greg felt heat slid up his neck, past his scruffy red jumper. He secretly wished he’d left on the lovely jacket Joe had bought him so it wouldn’t draw attention to his ripped jeans. He cursed that he hadn’t gone home and changed after Joe had texted.

  He choked back his welling tears. The salty ball at the back of his throat made it hard to speak as he sniffed. His past reality crashed right through the thin cloud of alcohol he’d been floating on, making it evaporate.

  “Whatever.” Greg wanted to cry in earnest hearing the dismay in his voice.

  Brad’s solid presence and arm sliding around his back made the ache in his chest lessen. Cuddling closer to Brad, Greg inhaled the scent of cherries and alcohol.

  Brad’s breath wafted over his cheek as he spoke. “Ignore him. You have Aaden now. He would make mincemeat out of him.”

  The slightly slurred words had a wet chuckle escape as both Nick and Joe grinned at him before turning their attention to Vic.

  “Why don’t you go and take a hike off a short pier and do us all a favour. No one here is interested in what you have to say. So fuck off!” At Nick’s strident comments, a red stain
worked its way up Vic’s pale face.

  His friends pushed a little closer to the table. They only halted when Vic raised his hand, giving them all what Greg thought looked like a constipated smile.

  “Look, guys. The little fem of the group thinks he can take us on.” Vic’s lips peeled back as he gave Nick a disparaging sneer while his eyes roamed over Nick’s pretty face and slim body.

  Greg felt bile burn the back of his nose and throat when Nick seemed to wilt for a brief moment before he pushed back his narrow shoulders. His “fuck you” look when Vic continued to ridicule him had Greg want to stand and cheer.

  “Fuck, look at him, I bet he’s wearing those clothes trying to be manly. How sad. Christ, lads, I bet he’s single.” Greg could see the light of victory in Vic’s hateful eyes when he saw Nick blanch.

  Vic’s sneering comments got louder. “Who’d want someone like you? No one, that’s who. You’re just a big-mouthed fucking fem, with a bunch of misfit arsehole friends.”

  The disparaging, hurtful comments had Greg’s blood boiling. There was nothing fucking misfit about his friends. He thrust his jaw forward, watching Joe put a restraining hand on Nick’s arm as he strained to get out of the booth.

  Nick’s snarled “why you little…” comment stopped as he surveyed something over Greg’s shoulder. The fury on his face turned to something Greg couldn’t quite decipher as Nick’s face shuttered and his expression went blank.

  Greg glanced over his shoulder. He swallowed repeatedly. His Adam’s apple bobbed furiously. He wanted to squeak when a kind of hushed silence fell around them.

  His eyes travelled up what he knew was a rock-solid pair of thighs. Up and up until his eyes locked with the onyx gaze of his boyfriend. Greg titled his head back, feeling his earlier dizziness return at the deadly fire sparking out of Aaden’s eyes. He was not sure if he wanted to cower or jump him.