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Clare London

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Just-You Eyes

T

HE

packed room was getting hotter by the second, and the

strong scent in the air was unpleasantly persistent, rather
like the smell of drains after heavy rainfall, though more
palatable, thank God. I guessed someone had been over-
enthusiastic with the “Spring Breeze” air freshener. It was
obviously cheaper than providing fresh flowers—and
probably avoided any problem with the guests’ allergies—but
the artificial tang was cloying rather than refreshing.

I bit back a sigh. My shirt collar was too tight, but I

didn’t dare loosen my tie, let alone the top button. My lace-
up brogues hurt too. I hadn’t worn them since my cousin’s
wedding the previous summer, and they were still on the
“new shoes” warpath even then. Dammit, if I’d ignored Effie’s
sisterly nagging tonight and worn my comfortable boots as
usual, I wouldn’t be walking across the room like Quasimodo
every time I took a toilet break.

And if I’d ignored her plea for moral support, I wouldn’t

be here at all, would I?

I coughed, my throat dry. Too many people in too small

a space, and I’d finished the water they provided. Was this
an appropriate time to ask for more? I glanced quickly at the
tabletop. The glass of lukewarm white wine to my left was
still half-full, and the small notepad on my right was
painfully bare of notes. A Hallmark-type teddy bear at the
corner of the top sheet clutched an oversized pencil, the
illustration simpering “Join in!”

I mentally shook my head. I’m not exactly your

demographic, you know. The heat in the room made my

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goatee itch, even though I kept it clipped short. I also had an
overwhelming desire to look at my watch, but knew that
would be really rude. To say nothing of the fact I’d looked
only three minutes ago. And meanwhile there was a young
woman sitting right opposite me, chatting animatedly about
her dog. Puppy, actually. And its rather graphic medical
problems.

The whistle blew, and I drew in a deep breath.
With a by-now familiar clatter, half the guests pushed

their chairs away from the tables and stood, including me.
The noise was painful on the ears. I tried not to wince
openly, but dreaded to think what damage was being done to
the parquet floor by all this activity. I glanced around the
function room, currently full of many small tables, double
the chairs, and a clutch of excitable, rather nervous guests.

We were situated in what was, by some local residents,

affectionately called the Inn. A fairly prestigious hotel in the
middle of town, it was one of Totnes’ local landmarks and
had hosted plenty of events over the years. In fact, it was one
of the only venues with public rooms large enough for the
job. Totnes was a small West Country town, as even the
tourist information blurb said. That was its charm, though
also its limitation. We had a riverside location, a castle (also
small), and as the writer Thomas Westcote had said in the
1600s, “pleasant soil, fruitful country, and healthful air.”
What more could we ask for?

The Inn had kept many of its original seventeenth-

century features, though the hotel guests had demanded
more modern facilities over the years. There was a large
fireplace at the far end of the room, not lit tonight, thick
russet-colored carpet, and goblet-shaped lights mounted on
the walls. I knew they were powered by totally modern

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fittings, but the illusion was attractive. This evening, as the
hours had passed, the staff had pulled shut the heavy
curtains that covered the large picture windows, letting the
thick velvet fabric sweep the floor with its braided hem.
Many of the guests had smiled and sighed at the sight,
entering into the spirit of the Olde Worlde charm.

The shuffle of footsteps on the floor brought me back to

attention. I walked a couple of yards to my left toward a new,
but very similar table. I didn’t really notice anyone else, my
vision a little blurred with tiredness by now, my smile, I
suspected, rather fixed. Clutching the notepad in my hand, I
realized I’d left my wine behind. Never mind, it hadn’t been
the best part of the evening. I was no wine snob, but I knew
what I liked, and it unfortunately wasn’t in that glass.

In the background there was a slight hiccup in the

sound system that announced the change between tracks in
the piped music. “Rambling Rose” gave way to
“Greensleeves,” with what sounded ominously like a Country
and Western twang.

I gritted my teeth further. Hell of a way to spend a

Friday night.

Another whistle blew and the chair noises resumed, this

time a chorus of scrapes as they were shuffled back in under
the tables, tucked underneath the posteriors of a whole new
bunch of inhabitants. I sat down gingerly. The seat was still
warm from the previous guest. A movement opposite
prompted me to look up in welcome. Good manners never
cost much, I knew, but the irritating itch to count down the
minutes until I could leave was slowly consuming me.

“Hi,” a young man said, settling down in the chair.

Startled, I stared into bright blue eyes; found myself facing a
broad forehead, straight nose, pale skin, very fine blond hair.

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Lips that twisted into a broad smile, creasing the skin at the
corners of his eyes. Uneven dimples on his cheeks, the right
one much deeper than the left.

Dimples. Wow. And my rather weary hunk-o-meter had

noticed them. Double wow.

The newcomer shifted with a gentle huff through his

nose, breaking my trance. The chair was small and probably
uncomfortable for someone as tall as he looked. “Sorry,” he
said, though the welcome smile didn’t look very apologetic.
“But this seat isn’t taken?”

I looked to either side. The nearby tables were full

already. The girl on the immediate right was the one I’d just
been sitting with. Her cheeks were very flushed, and she was
still chattering away quickly and loudly about her pet, barely
taking a breath. The plump man now opposite her was
wearing an expression best described as a deer in
headlights. At the table on my left, a dark-haired man was
lounging in his chair, his arm over the back of it, his sleeves
rolled up and the fingers of his other hand drumming
impatiently on the tabletop. I recalled him from the estate
agent’s on the west side of town. His throat convulsed in a
heavy swallow; his mouth opened then closed again, nothing
coming out. The girl opposite him—I recognized one of the
cashiers from the tourist information shop—was blonde and
wide-eyed, and stared at him with something akin to naked
desperation. Silently. In fact, they looked like neither of them
could think of a single word to say.

I felt some sympathy, and not because I’d been sitting

opposite that girl as well, much earlier in the evening. No, it
was more the case that it had been a long night, and time
wasn’t on anyone’s side tonight.

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“Sorry,” the young man opposite me said again. He

looked puzzled.

“Me too. I mean, no, it’s not taken. Um. Not sure why.” I

winced. Just how pathetic—and rude—did that sound? I was
still having trouble with my throat, and I wasn’t sure it was
all the fault of the air freshener. “Does this mean someone’s
dropped out?”

My companion raised his eyebrows. “Well guessed. Yes,

we’ve lost a couple of the girls within the last few minutes.
One is apparently crying in the toilet, and another one
stormed out when number seventeen asked her if her
breasts were real. And one of the men won’t move on from
table ten, saying he’s made his mind up which lady he
wants, and to continue this quote pathetic farce unquote is a
waste of everybody’s time. So counting up, and with only this
last round to go, we are one guest short in net total.”

“Well at least I know it’s not something I did,” I said,

then felt myself blush. “Oh God. I mean….”

“You mean, at least the seat’s empty for logistical

reasons, not because they saw you coming?” the man
finished for me, rather bluntly. He had a slight, lilting
accent, with some of the words spoken more carefully than I
would have done. It was very attractive. Maybe Eastern
European? He was still smiling, and for a brief second, his
gaze seemed to flicker up and down my body, though so
quickly I couldn’t have sworn to it afterward. “That’s not
likely, is it?”

“Um. Whatever.” I tried to will down the heat of my

blush, knowing how bad it’d look squeezing over the edge of
my shirt collar. Dark skin and scarlet flush—not a good look.
To say nothing of my swarthy chin and a haircut that hadn’t

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been updated for a couple of months now. I glanced over in
my own quick up-and-down recce, hoping the other man
didn’t catch on to it. He was slender but muscled, and he
looked fit—that is, in an athletic sense, not the sexy sense.
Though, to be honest, he appealed in that context too. God, I
really am tired tonight. I needed to keep myself in better
check.

“Such a mismatch can happen.” The man shrugged, a

carelessly elegant movement. “Of course we can’t please
everyone all of the time. But perhaps it’s a good thing the
event is now coming to a close. It’s been an unusual evening
for many reasons.” Lovely voice. Low and with a trickle of
amusement running underneath.

“What about you?” I coughed and tugged surreptitiously

at my collar. His dark gray suit—unlike my rather old-
fashioned fabric and style—looked both expensive and
smart. The tie was perfectly placed too. “Were you…?”

“No.” When he lifted a hand and ran it roughly through

his silky hair, I had a weird urge to reach up and follow its
path. I felt very slightly disoriented. Had there been
something else in that wine tonight?

“I’m not one of the guests,” the man continued. “And

before you ask….”

Which, rather startlingly, I had been considering.
“…I’m not part of the dating agency, either. I’m on the

hotel staff. I’m supervising the Date Night this evening.”

I smiled sympathetically. “I imagine it’s been a

challenge.”

He snorted. At the uninhibited noise, the girl with the

desperate gaze started. One quick glance over to our table,

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then her eyes swiveled back to her own companion. Time
passing, I thought.

“A challenge, yes. Tonight has had its share of those.”

The man looked at the sturdy silver watch on his wrist and
grimaced. He didn’t seem to think it was rude to wish the
rest of the evening away. That was refreshing. “Half an hour
before we wrap up. That will cover the final three-minute
swap around, a quick cappuccino for everyone while the
notepads are collected, and then we’ll see them safely off
home.”

“You’re new here?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Hey.” I leaned back. His tone had sounded suddenly

defensive. “I just meant I hadn’t seen you here before.”

Open mouth, insert foot, that was me. Too late to bite

back the words. It was, at the very least and never intended
to be, a tired old pick-up line. But before I could stutter out
an explanation or apology, the man laughed. The sound was
delightful, a burst of genuine amusement in a room that was
more characterized by brittle emotion tonight.

“I’m sorry.” He laughed again. “I keep saying that, don’t

I? But I was worried you had some complaint.”

“No, it’s not that. But you’re…?”
“I’m Alexsy Kaczmarek.” When he stuck out his hand, I

shook it. A firm, confident handshake. “Call me Alexsy.”

He pronounced his first name with a sharp inflection on

the X and a gentle finish on the Y. My mouth started to
shape it for myself, liking the sound, before I realized how
stupid I’d look. “Elliot. I’m Elliot Crown.”

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“Hello Elliot, good to meet you. Yes, I’m new, but I’m

only here for the evening. I’ve been borrowed from the
London Head Office because I’ve helped on these kinds of
events at other locations. We got a call that the duty
manager here would be short of staff tonight, and wanted
some support. I was free and able to travel.” He glanced
around and lowered his voice, even though I was sure no one
was remotely interested in any conversation but their own.
“Actually, to be honest with you, I’m only an assistant
manager. But they didn’t seem to have anyone else available
who had this kind of experience. That’s enough to qualify me
for tonight, right?”

I glanced quickly again at the long legs stretched out to

the side of his chair, the suit jacket sitting perfectly on the
broad shoulders, the easy, confident smile. “Right,” I replied.
“I’m sure you’re what they need.” Even if I suspected the
placement was less of an early promotion than a poisoned
chalice. According to Effie, these monthly events either ran
as smooth as silk, or… they didn’t. I smiled back at Alexsy
and wished nothing but the silken route for him.

God. The evening had obviously been a very long one.

What was I doing, ogling some poor bloke, wanting to touch
his hair, wishing him an easy time? For that matter, what
was I doing here at all? Damn Effie and her quest for a new
man. Damn her flaky friend Joey for dropping out of the
group at the last minute. Damn her apparent distress at
having to call off the whole visit unless there were enough
male members to make up the numbers.

Yes, and damn my own gullibility. But I’d been free this

evening, with no defense against her insistence.

“Elliot, it won’t matter you’re gay,” she’d said.

“Everyone’s there for fun. A lot of them just want new

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friends, just want a giggle, to have the chance to be seen
with a fit young man. Nothing has to come of it. And what
else are you going to do tonight?”

Obviously I needed to get myself a more interesting life.

And a new boyfriend, so I didn’t try to attach to every
friendly stranger. Like this poor man. After all, Alexsy was
probably, irrefutably straight. Or already attached. Or—

“You’re local? It’s a small town, I know. This place is

very different from London.” Alexsy looked at his watch
again. Perhaps it was time for the last whistle. As he moved,
the lights caught pale gold glints in his hair. Suddenly I
wasn’t sure whether I did or didn’t want the evening to wrap
up quickly.

“It has everything we need,” I replied, rather sharply,

and Alexsy’s eyes widened. Well yes, obviously I was local.

“Sorry.” He held up a hand, his tone sincerely apologetic

this time. “I didn’t mean to offend. I just meant that this
hotel is part of the chain, but it has its own unique
character. You probably think I don’t appreciate that.” He
smiled more ruefully this time. “The faceless corporation,
eh?”

“It’s fine,” I said. Alexsy was far from faceless, even if I

knew what he meant. “I know the owner sold out a couple of
years back, but it was on the understanding that he still
runs it largely his own way.”

“It’s a beautiful building. Developed around an old

coaching inn, they told me. And I fully understand that the
owner would wish it presented in an appropriate way.”

I glanced at the heavy drapes and bit back a sigh. It was

all a bit kitsch for me, but Alexsy was right—from the locals’
affection for the place to the tourists from overseas, it was

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what guests expected to see. “He’s lived here all his life,
knows the people, what kind of facilities and entertainment
we like around here.” Now I was sounding like some country
yokel.

“Like this evening.” Alexsy glanced around. The volume

of voices had risen, an early warning that the three minutes
was nearly up. “Is it the first time you’ve had this kind of
Date Night?”

“No, they were started as a monthly thing, just after

Christmas. Just for fun, I believe.”

Alexsy looked impressed. “And these are all visitors?”
“Um. No.” I’d lived in this small town all my life as well. I

didn’t need to look over the rest of the room to know I’d see
more than a few familiar faces. “Not exactly.”

Alexsy peered at me, still smiling, curiosity in his

expression. “Well, it’s nearly time to move on. But thank you
for making my job easier.”

“Me?”
“I could see you would be left without a companion on

your last turn.”

I knew he was trying to catch my eye, but I’d suddenly

decided to find something totally fascinating in the wood
grain on the table top.

“You might have been angry or upset.” Alexsy’s voice

was gentle. “I wanted to come and explain. Or….”

As I looked back up, Alexsy shrugged again. There was

something very fascinating in his bright eyes.

“I doubt that’s in your job description as well.” I knew

my voice sounded sharp again. It often did when I was
nervous or disturbed.

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Alexsy laughed, but more softly this time. “This isn’t

part of my duty, and I assure you it’s no hardship. Yes, I
needed to explain, but I also wanted—”

The whistle sounded. It was set on a timer switch, I

knew. Effie had told me all about it. She’d been coming to
Date Night for the last six months. There was a communal
exhale of breath in the room, and all the chairs started to
scrape the floor again.

As I stood up, Alexsy reached over and grasped my arm.

“I wanted to say hello to you, Elliot. On a personal level.”

I stared. Was it that obvious? Was I that obvious? I

didn’t know what to say.

Alexsy frowned. His cheeks went slightly pink, a very

attractive contrast to his pale skin. “Okay. I’ve misjudged,
and so I’ll apologize again. There can be mismatches in all
situations.”

“No.” The breath caught in my throat. “No, you didn’t

misjudge. I mean, yes, I’m….” I’m what? I’m out and proud?
Alexsy’s gaydar was obviously working better than mine, an
out-of-date version that probably smelled of mothballs to
anyone more hip. And why was I fooling myself? I’d found
Alexsy attractive from the start. I didn’t know why I was
pretending to be coy now, when the interest was returned.

Alexsy stood as well, letting go of my arm. He took a

couple of steps away and gestured to one of the waitresses
on duty to start serving coffee. A table had been set up at the
far end of the room, and now they were trolleying in the urns
of hot water for coffee and tea. Guests pushed past us, men
and women together, some smiling, some flushed, some
subdued. I nodded to a couple more people I knew. By the

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time Alexsy turned back to face me, I made sure I was
smiling.

His smile looked a little more restrained. “I must go and

supervise the rest of the evening. There’ll be some new
couples tonight, but a few disappointments, too, maybe?”

Was he fishing for information? “I expect you’re

wondering what I’m doing here. At a singles Date Night. At a
heterosexual singles Date Night.”

There was a brief, pregnant pause. The aroma of freshly

brewed coffee wafted through the room.

Alexsy cleared his throat and glanced around,

presumably checking up on the staff bustling around, the
guests chatting and drinking. “It’s personal to you, Elliot. I’m
not going to ask if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s not that I’m still in the closet or anything.” Bloody

stupid phrase. It had taken me some long years to admit
what I wanted and then to live without apology. Only to find
that most of the people I knew didn’t mind what kind of
person I dated so long as I didn’t scare the horses. It was
that kind of small town. But I didn’t go about broadcasting
it, either. “I’m here with my sister Effie.”

“She’s single?” Alexsy’s gaze was flickering back over to

the open door and the foyer beyond. I was sure he needed to
be back on duty, helping with coats and cabs and general
customer service. I shouldn’t keep him here any longer, and
definitely not just to chat about my rather embarrassing
attendance here tonight.

“She just came out of a long relationship. All a bit

messy. She’s not really over it.” Hell, I was gabbling. I knew
it but couldn’t seem to help myself. “One of her colleagues
was coming with her tonight. He’s called Joey, but he cried

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off at the last minute, and Effie asked me to step in. Just to
make up the male numbers in the group. You’ve seen how
awkward it gets when the guests are unevenly balanced.”
Still not much of a real explanation. I felt myself grow hotter
by the second. “It doesn’t really matter about the dating
aspect, you see, not for some of us. A lot of these people
already know me. Already know each other as well. These
evenings are a social occasion as well as potentially
romantic. No one minds that I’m not in the market.” God. “I
mean, not their market.” Double God.

I caught Alexsy’s eye. Was he smiling again? “You’d

better go,” I said. While the going’s good. “Don’t want you
getting into trouble, neglecting your guests. I’m on my way
home anyway, soon as I find Effie.” I gave what I hoped came
over as a rueful smile. “Sorry you caught me out.”

“What do you mean?” Alexsy’s frown was almost as

attractive as his smile, in a different, more serious way, of
course. I wished I could start the evening again. Well, yes, to
start the last year again would be even better….

“For being here under false pretenses, you know? For

not really being here for a date. Just one of the crowd. Just…
well.” I laughed, but it sounded too loud, even over the
background buzz of voices and the clatter of cups. “Just
forget it. It’s all too weird to understand, I know. Blame it on
small-town idiosyncrasy.” I turned away from the sharp glint
in Alexsy’s eyes. Where the hell was Effie? She usually liked
the coffee and gossip at the end of the evening.

“Elliot?” Alexsy took my arm again and turned me back

to face him. “I don’t want to forget it.” Someone was calling
over by the door. One of the waitresses had a problem with
the pile of notebooks. He glanced down at the one I was still
clutching. “Do you have any names written there?”

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“What?”
“Any names. People you would like to meet again, as per

the rules of this evening. Any of the guests that you
particularly liked.”

I flushed really heavily. “No. I told you I’m not….” I

glanced down at the blank sheet. “No, I don’t.”

“So have coffee with me,” Alexsy said. He took the pad

out of my hand and our fingers brushed. “A drink, whatever.
When everyone else has gone. Just that. Will you?”

“It’s all a bit….” I still couldn’t see Effie anywhere.

People were calling goodbye, leaving for the night. Some of
them went arm in arm, others shrugged into their coats and
left the room on their own, far more hurriedly. I caught sight
of one of the male guests over by the exit into the foyer and I
frowned. “This is stupid. I mean, I’m—”

“Elliot.” Alexsy’s voice was sharper. “Have coffee with

me, and then you can tell me all about it. Believe me, I’d like
that. I’m off duty as soon as this event is finished, but I’m
staying over at the hotel because it’s too late to drive back to
London tonight. And I’m not ready for the evening to end. Let
me finish what I have to do here, but don’t go yet.”

I looked at him, startled at the urgency in his tone.
“Please,” Alexsy said.
Please, he said. I stared at him for what seemed to me

like a very long moment. A girl giggled in the background. A
male voice laughed in reply. “Yes. Okay. But my sister….”

Alexsy looked around the room. “You can’t find her?”

His gaze also settled on the guest at the door, who was
standing with his arms crossed, feet planted at each side of

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the doorway as if guarding it, his face scowling. Alexsy gave
a sigh. “Number ten.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s number ten. I said there’d been challenges

tonight, didn’t I? He was one of them. He wouldn’t join in the
usual arrangement, but stayed at the same table all night.
We had to work around him.”

I drew in a deep breath. “Alexsy, I don’t think I have

time for coffee tonight.”

“I’m sorry?”

His blue eyes settled on me again, very intense.

Searching. I wasn’t used to such personal attention, was I? I
couldn’t say whether it was nice or… not. Not yet, anyway.
“You said there was a girl in the toilet. I’m rather afraid
that’ll be my sister Effie.”

“What? I must go and—”

“No, it’s okay.” I knew my rueful smile was genuine this

time. “I’ll go and see to her, make sure she’s okay.”

Alexsy looked totally bemused. “I also said this was an

unusual evening, didn’t I? These events aren’t expected to
be….”

“I know,” I said, seeing Alexsy search for a suitable and

yet polite description of this small town’s Date Night and its
melodramatic complications. “And it’s both worse and better
than that.”

Alexsy raised his eyebrows.

Something about the bright interest in his eyes made

me smile rather than roll my eyes, and there was a surprise.
“Number ten? That’s Drew, Effie’s infamous ex.”

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“E

FFIE

.

Please.” I leaned against the door, speaking as

quietly but as urgently as I could. I wasn’t comfortable with
this, obviously not. Two girls had already come bursting into
the toilet, only to find a man in there, apparently talking to a
cubicle door. A pervert and a lunatic, they must have
thought. To give them their due, they hadn’t caused too
much of a fuss. One of them was the cashier girl, and she
recognized me. I suppose she might still have thought I was
a local lunatic, but luckily she also knew Effie. She and her
friend had been happily redirected by Alexsy to another
facility on the first floor.

“I told Drew it was over. Totally over.” Effie’s voice

sounded calmer than it had when I arrived. It was still a bit
muffled, but in the open slit under the door, I could see a
pile of tissue on the floor where she’d mopped up the tears.
She wasn’t really the crying type. Not often, anyway.

“Yes, love, you did.”
“He played around with that girl at the office. He made

me look a fool. You remember the scene when I caught him
out? And then all the bloody arguments, the misery of
sorting out his stuff, the nights you and I sat up going over
all the practical issues I couldn’t cope with on my own.”

“Yes,” I said softly. I remembered.
“He should have kept the hell away from me, right?”
“Yes, he should.”
“It’s like stalking, isn’t it? Can’t I get the police to get

me…?”

“A restraining order, I think it is. And yes, I’m sure—”

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“Elliot!”
“Effie?”
“If you agree with me one more time in that sappy, kind-

older-brother voice, I’m going to scream.”

I smiled, even though no one could see. “Sorry. Tell me

what I should do. Tell me what you need.”

“It was just seeing him again. I didn’t expect it. It

was….” Her voice was muffled again. “Seeing him again. It
was a shock.”

There was a short silence between us, not

uncomfortable.

“He told me at the time he was deeply sorry, Effie. I’d

say he was genuine.”

She sniffed.
“You needed time apart. I can understand that. But it’s

been six months now, and you’re still thinking about him,
aren’t you?”

This time, the sniff sounded suspiciously like one of her

snorts. “Elliot?”

“Yes, love?”
“Do you know how bloody uncomfortable it is, sitting on

the seat in a cubicle this small for any length of time? The
toilet-roll holder ripped my tights. And I can hear people
talking on the other side of this wall.”

“It backs on to the same corridor as the staff room.” I

smiled. Effie hadn’t lost her sense of humor yet.

“Talking of staff, did you…?”
“What?”

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She cleared her throat. “Did you see that new manager?

I passed him when I left the room.”

“Yes, I saw him. But I didn’t see you go.” I was still

upset I hadn’t realized her distress.

“I didn’t want you to.” It was almost a snap. “I meant to

pull myself together and come back. Or sit in the bar until it
was over. Or maybe find a heavy artifact from the Inn’s
antique collection and beat Drew over the head with it.”

“Effie.” I sighed.
“Elliot, you didn’t get into trouble with the management,

did you? I mean, about my stupid scene? Or… you being in
on the evening, but not really. If you know what I mean.”

I did. “No, it’s fine. I explained I was just standing in for

Joey. I mean, I paid my money like everyone else. I can’t see
that they can complain, just because….” I didn’t want to
finish that statement aloud to the echoes of a ladies’ toilet.

“Just because. Yes.” She gave a strange half-sob, half-

giggle.

“Effie? Do you still love Drew?”
“Of course I bloody do.”
I bit back another sigh. “Well, then.”
She sighed as well. The silence fell again.
“Elliot? He was sorry, wasn’t he?”
“As long as you don’t yell at me again for agreeing with

you, I’d say yes.”

“He always made me feel special. I mean, apart from

that stupid one time. He always had those eyes, you know?”

I didn’t. “Bedroom eyes?”

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She snickered. “Well, that goes without saying. But it’s

more than that. I call them listening eyes. Paying-attention
eyes.” She blew her nose again. “Just-you eyes.”

I knew what she meant, and my heart went out to her.
“You think I should forgive him?”
“I think you should decide that yourself, love. Maybe

you just needed time.”

“Yes, I did. But I’ve had a lot of it, haven’t I?”
I smiled. “Plenty.”
“Elliot? That manager….”
“I told you. It’s okay. He was just worried about you.”
“He’s very cute, isn’t he?”
I felt a ripple of distress run right through me. “Um.

Effie… I don’t think he’s—”

“I’m not going to hit on him, you idiot.”
“Okay. Good.” What a strong feeling relief could be, even

without any sensible basis. “I mean, rebound things are all
very well, like the Date Nights. You never know who you
might meet. But some men….”

“What, Elliot?”
Why did I feel that somehow the spotlight had turned

back to me? “Well, I mean, you want to reconsider Drew,
don’t you? Who’s always made you feel special?”

“You think he wouldn’t?”
“Who?”
Effie snorted. “The cute manager with the too-tight shirt

and eyes way too bright and keen for a long-standing career
in hotel management?”

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It was my turn to snort. “Effie, enough of that.”
She laughed. “I knew it.”
I decided not to ask what she knew, because I knew that

Effie was a damn sight wiser about these matters than I’d
ever been. Rather more volatile, but definitely wiser. “So will
you come out now? I’m on borrowed time here until someone
reports me for stalking of my own. And I’ve learned far too
much tonight about the disposal of sanitary products and
who’s next on the cleaning rota.”

The cubicle door opened, and my sister stood there,

smiling up at me. Her dark curly hair had fallen out of its tie
and looked very tousled, as unruly as my own yet still pretty
and feminine on her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her
skin was a little blotchy, but yes, she was smiling. “You
asked me what I need, right? So I’ve been thinking a lot in
among the sniveling. What I need is Drew. I always have.”

I hugged her. “People make mistakes and are sorry for

them. But it’s up to the pair of you to decide how to deal
with it.”

She nodded. “I’ll take things from here. I assume Drew’s

still around?”

Last I’d seen, as I made my way swiftly toward the

ladies’ toilets, Drew was still on guard. When he didn’t find
Effie having coffee, he’d moved back out into the foyer and
was keeping watch on the revolving door out to the car park.
I don’t know if he saw me, or where I was heading. I’d just
shrugged an apology at Alexsy and followed my sibling duty.

“And Elliot, I want to go home.”
“That’s fine.” My heart sank, I was ashamed to say from

purely selfish reasons. “I’ll drop you off on my way into town.
I’m the designated driver tonight, after all.”

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“No, Drew will take me home. After we’ve had a chat.”
She had that look in her eyes, the determined one.

She’d had that look when she caught him out with the girl at
his office, and then again when she threw him out of their
shared flat. But there was something else in her expression
tonight: a softness, a vulnerability that had nothing to do
with tears.

“Just be careful. I don’t want you hurt anymore.”
She was already reaching up to re-set her hair. “Thanks,

brother. But I’m a big girl now.”

“With ripped tights,” I murmured.
She laughed. “And a happy Date Night to you too. I

promise I won’t be stupid. If there’s any problem at all, I’ll
get a cab home.”

“I don’t think there’ll be a problem. Alexsy said Drew

announced he’d already found the only woman he wanted
and refused to take part in the speed dating.”

“He said that? That must have been after he landed at

my table, and I bolted.” She took a quick look in the mirror
and winced. But I saw her eyes were sparkling.

“Go and see him,” I said. “Give it a try.”
“Thanks, Elliot.” We hugged again. “And what about

you?”

“Me?”
“Alexsy, eh? I told you he’s cute. You’re not rushing

back home, are you?”

“For God’s sake.” I rolled my eyes, but I’m not sure she

was fooled. As she opened the door back into the hotel
corridor, she turned and winked at me.

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“I think he’d make someone feel special too. He looks

like he has the right eyes. Not just really sexy.” She smiled,
almost back to normal cheer. “The just-you eyes.”

I

SAT

at one of the tables in the hotel bar. Only a few of the

lights were on, giving the room a warm, muted glow. The bar
itself was closed, the shutters pulled down for the night. The
tables were bare, the flower arrangements and coasters
cleared away. In the far distance I could hear the occasional
movement of night duty staff, or guests passing through
reception, returning after an evening out. It was past
midnight, and the room was otherwise empty and still.

Alexsy came in, walking quietly across the thick carpet,

carrying a small tray on which there was a pot of coffee, two
cups, and a couple of small brandy glasses. As he crossed
the room, the liquid at the bottom of each glass was caught
by the low lighting, glinting like rich, dark honey. I felt
something warm up and soften inside me like honey itself,
and I leaned farther back in the upholstered chair. Alexsy
smiled at me, put the tray on the table between us, then sat
in the chair opposite.

Just us now.
“I made a fresh pot,” he said. “The coffee for the Date

Night had gone cold.” He’d removed his jacket and tie, and
loosened the top buttons of his shirt. Effie had been right. It
looked tight across his torso, though I knew the difference
between a size too small and a body toned enough to fill the
tailored shape. He’d rolled up his sleeves, showing lightly
tanned, strong forearms.

“You didn’t need to go to any trouble,” I said.

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He raised his eyebrows. I was beginning to see it as a

common gesture of his, or maybe I just inspired that in him.

“Yes, I did.” He didn’t allow me to protest any further,

just poured the coffee and handed me the sugar pot. I added
two spoonfuls, then saw he was watching my hands as I
worked. Flustered, I put in two more. I’d be able to stand the
damned spoon up in it, at this rate.

“I’m off duty now so I brought us a brandy as well.

There is no pressure to drink it, though.” His smile was easy,
but he seemed to be holding himself with more tension than
before. “I didn’t know if you were driving home tonight.”

Maybe it was just careless phrasing, or deliberate

ambiguity. If I were driving, or if I were driving home? It had
been a long time since my gut had clenched with that kind of
nervous excitement.

He settled back in his own chair. “How is your sister?

Effie?”

“Josephine, but we all call her Effie.” I sipped the coffee.

A good flavor, and freshly brewed, just as he said. “I expect
you saw she left with Drew. Number ten.” I met his gaze, and
we both grinned. “She assures me she’ll be okay. This is the
first time she’s seen him for months, and I think they might
try to work things out again.”

“She’s been to other date evenings?”
I nodded. “She comes regularly. Or at least, she has

done since she split with Drew. She has a group of friends
from work who usually come with her. She tells me she’s
looking for someone new, but I wonder sometimes.”

“She’s a beautiful girl. I’m sure there’d be plenty of

interest if she wanted to meet any guest again,” Alexsy said.
His gaze was steady. “She looks like you, of course.”

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I tried really hard not to blush any further. Yes, we

looked alike in hair and skin coloring, and maybe around the
eyes, or so people had said in the past. But no one had ever
said it in that way: as if the attraction was with me, not Effie.
“She’s a sociable type. But she never dates anyone she
meets. Maybe it’s just been a way to get her confidence back.
These evenings have become….” I shrugged.

“A diversion? A therapy? That’s nothing to be ashamed

of, at the risk of sounding rude.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “You’re probably right.”
“And what about you?”
“Me?” I took a deeper sip of coffee, not meeting his eyes,

letting my face warm in the steam.

“Do you often come with her on these Date Nights?”
“No, of course not. Just this time.” I knew Effie would

tease me about it later, when things had calmed down. “I
mean, I act as a taxi service sometimes for her, so she and
her friends can have a drink. We both live in the same part
of town. I drop her off here, maybe have a drink at the hotel
bar while they get settled. Then go into town to meet my own
friends.” Or just go home again. “This was the first time I’ve
actually stayed all evening. Like I explained, they needed a
stand-in for Joey.”

“So was it what you expected?” Alexsy’s smile was

encouraging.

“Speed dating? I suppose so. It was the talk of the local

gossip when the hotel started advertising it. We weren’t sure
how it’d work. What kind of crowd it’d attract.”

“What kind of crowd?”

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“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I didn’t mean to sound offensive.

After all, you’ve run these things before. I’m rather clumsy
sometimes, and mess things up.”

“No,” he said. “Not tonight.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I owed him an

explanation nonetheless. “I just meant that the evenings
were originally a culture shock, I suppose. But now we’ve
incorporated them into the local social calendar.”

He smiled. The reflected spark in his eyes seemed far

too bright for the level of lighting in the room. “I understand.
So can you tell me about number ten?”

“God, yes. Drew. He’s been with Effie for a couple of

years, and we thought they’d be getting married soon. He’s a
good bloke. I like him. She’s been very happy with him, and
I’m pretty sure he loves her to death. But it hasn’t been an
easy path. I’ve had to be the mediator once or twice. They
can both be rather overexcitable.” I sighed. “He made a fool
of himself at Christmastime over some girl at work, and he
and Effie split up.”

“It was a mistake?”
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be talking

about my sister’s rocky love life all night. About anyone
else’s love life at all, actually. “A bloody stupid mistake, and
Drew knew that. Effie took it hard and insisted on time
apart. But he obviously got tired of her refusing his calls and
tracked her down to here.” When I looked across, Alexsy was
smiling. I felt an answering smile tug at the corners of my
mouth. “Yes, it may have caused havoc at the Date Night,
but he’d say it got her attention, wouldn’t he?”

Alexsy hadn’t taken sugar or milk in his coffee, but he

turned the small silver spoon over in his palm a few times,

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as if thinking about his next response. “What did you mean
about this being incorporated into the local social calendar? I
could see that you knew some of the guests already.”

“Nothing sinister. Honestly.” Rather surprised at myself,

I reached a hand over the table and placed it briefly on his.
“People come along from all places. There are plenty of new
faces. It’s just that some of the locals come regularly. It’s an
established evening out, a way of offering dating but without
the awkwardness of everyone being strangers.” I smiled.
“We’re a small enough town to want that. I suppose it’s not
the usual way these things operate, is it?”

“No, not really. But I like it. There was the usual mood

of excitement here tonight, the promise of something new.
But security too.” There was a twinkle in his eye now.
“Though it seems only available for heterosexual guests.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. But we need dates too.”
“It’s a fine town, but we’re not twenty-first century

enough yet to offer gay Date Nights.”

“Perhaps we should,” he said, quietly.
I laughed again, and it was a comfortable feeling. When

he offered me the brandy, I took it gratefully. I knew I could
have one drink at least before driving home.

We talked some more about the hotel and the town

itself. Alexsy hadn’t been here before, and he allowed me to
ramble on about the glorious countryside around us, the
view of the River Dart, the Norman castle, the Brutus Stone
that commemorated the legendary founder of the British
people. Then I backed off the history lesson, afraid I’d
embarrassed us both, and gave a more domestic view of
some of the town characters who’d been around far longer

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than I’d been alive. When I launched into a description of the
Ladies’ Knitting and Tae Kwon Do Club, who met at the hotel
once a month for dinner and demonstrations, he laughed
aloud.

“You have such enthusiasm and fondness for it all.

You’ve always lived here?”

I nodded. I’d always been happy to, as well. I was

talking too much, I was sure, but Alexsy was an excellent
listener. His eyes never left my face, the pupils glinting a
darker color in the dim lighting. A small bead of sweat
glistened at his throat, framed by the open neck of his shirt,
and he gave emphasis with the movement of his hands when

he asked brief, intelligent questions.
Listening eyes.
After a half hour or so, he got up and unlocked the bar,

using a key from a batch he had in his pocket. He fetched a
bottle of brandy from behind the counter and brought it
back to the table. “I’ve left the payment for it,” he said. “And
there’s no obligation for you to join me.” But when he held
up the bottle with a questioning gesture, I offered my glass
for a refill. It was a good brand, and I liked the way its bite
warmed me as I swallowed. Maybe I was looking for an
excuse to keep Alexsy talking here with me, even though he
gave no signs of turning in for the night. And maybe I was
looking for the courage to keep gazing into those questing,
quizzical eyes.

“You have an accent, though it’s not strong.” I said.

“Unless it’s my turn to be rude?”

He laughed. “No, that’s fine. I come originally from

Poland, outside Warsaw, but my family moved here when I
was a young boy. My father is Polish, my mother English. So

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I’ve been educated here, and now I’m in training for my
career.” He shrugged, the movement of that toned torso so
much more graceful than mine. “There are good chances to
progress, if I work hard.”

“You live with your family?”
“No.” There was a flicker of disturbance in his

expression. “They’ve returned to Poland, but I had already
moved out. I went to London after college; that’s where the
real opportunities are. I have my own flat there. Small, but
near to my Head Office and with plenty of amenities nearby.”

I imagined him playing sport, working out. Going to the

theater, to movies. Maybe he went to clubs and danced. I
could see that; he had the physical confidence of a dancer.
On a hot, darkened dance floor, lit every few seconds by
flickering neon lights, that smile on his face, friends around
him. Stripped to the waist….

I coughed. “Small flat. Yes, that sounds like mine too.

About all someone can afford on their own nowadays, isn’t
it?”

Alexsy lifted his glass to his mouth, but his eyes stayed

on me, watching me over the rim.

Paying-attention eyes.
“Do you like being on your own, Elliot?”
I flushed before I could help myself. Yet he hadn’t asked

was I on my own? as if he were sorry for me. Instead, he’d
asked me how I felt about my life. They were the words of
someone who thought first before speaking; who perhaps
understood. Who gave me the chance to close the
conversation down if I wished.

I realized that I didn’t.

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“Sometimes I do,” I replied. “I shared for a while. With a

boyfriend.” Lover. Or so I’d thought. “But it didn’t last. Same
old story.” I laughed. It sounded too loud in the quiet room.
“It takes me a while to get to know people, Alexsy. I don’t
have Effie’s extrovert nature. Mostly I’m happy just to work,
play some sport, meet friends for a drink.” I smiled to show I
was happy with my lot, and not keen to dash back into the
emotional strain of a relationship. “There’re plenty of other
people to enjoy the more exotic life. Especially in the city
centers.”

Alexsy’s glass rattled on the table as if he’d put it down

awkwardly. “But you think there’s still a place for these Date
Nights? After all, we have other options in this Internet age.”

“You mean online dating?” I grimaced, and took another

swig of the brandy. “I’m sure Date Nights seem rather old-
fashioned to some people, but I think they have plenty of
advantages. Better to meet people face to face.”

“It takes more courage sometimes.”
“Maybe. But online dating, at least for gay men, seems

to be geared toward one-night stands.”

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. “You say that

as if it disgusts you.”

“God no.” I hadn’t meant to give that impression. Was

he angry? I felt I’d strayed into the wrong territory and
wasn’t sure where the exit was. “I mean, it’s an opportunity.”
He’d said that about his work, about his life in the city. “I
want a relationship, like many of us do, and I understand
the difficulty of finding dates at the best of times. Anyway….”
I was backpedalling fast, now. “I can’t say much about one-
night stands, myself.”

“You never had one.”

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I couldn’t tell if that was a question or a statement from

Alexsy, though I suspected the latter. Well, it was true. I
wasn’t exactly showing my usual discretion tonight, was I?

“And so I sound a complete loser.”
“No way.” Alexsy frowned at me. “We’re not counting

quantity here, Elliot.”

“I’m not a virgin,” I said. God, it must have been the

brandy talking. I took another gulp. It really was a fine
brand, very easy to drink. “I’ve had boyfriends. I just prefer
to”—what the hell was I rambling on about now?—“take
things slowly. And the whole dating thing… it’s just so
bloody awkward.”

“What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
Alexsy frowned again, looking as if he were searching for

the right words. “You’re not inexperienced, you say so
yourself. You’re very attractive. But you’re not with anyone.”
He looked puzzled. “I’m just trying to understand why you
make that choice.”

It was as if he was talking in an alien language, and that

had nothing to do with being a different nationality. He had
it all wrong. Choices had been made in my love life, but not
necessarily by me. The choice of coming out in a small town
where people were tolerant but the dating pool was inevitably
smaller than in Alexsy’s world. The choice of my natural
aversion to bright lights and cheap pick-up venues. The
choice of Bernie up and leaving me after a year’s
commitment for something better in bed….

“Elliot?” Alexsy leaned around the table and put his

hand on my leg. Just gently, perhaps anticipating a brush-

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off. But the concern in his eyes was unmistakable. “Let’s not
talk about it, okay?”

“You’re right. Let’s not.” I held out my glass, though he

put less of the brandy in it than before.

“Do you want to call Effie to come and collect you?”
“No, leave her and Drew to work things out. I can get a

taxi.”

Alexsy was looking at me very carefully. “You know,

your name came up on the pads quite often.”

“On the pads?”
“The notepads that the guests had tonight. They have to

note down the people they would like to see again, what they
liked about them.”

“Surely I didn’t get any of that feedback?” I was pretty

sure I hadn’t caught any vibes like that.

“No, you’re right. Not like that.” Alexsy’s eyes were

twinkling again, the reflected bar lights like slivers of flame.
“But we do ask them if they would rate the guest as a friend,
someone they enjoyed spending time with.” He must have
caught the cynicism in my eyes. “Yes, even for just three
minutes.”

“Well.” I didn’t know what to say, really. “That’s

something rather nice.”

Alexsy was nodding again. “Seems to me that’s what you

are, Elliot. Something nice, someone special in your
tolerance of other people. You need someone like that in
return, someone who’ll be the same to you.”

To make you feel special.
“That’s a new line,” I said. I didn’t mean it to come out

that sharply.

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Alexsy’s eyes darkened, and he tensed up, tightening his

hands on the arms of the chair. For a minute I thought he
was going to get up and leave. “I like you, Elliot. I haven’t
made any secret of that. But that’s not a line, as you say. I
thought we were talking honestly here.”

I hadn’t realized how much I was enjoying his company

until it looked like I’d alienated it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
be rude. I said I was clumsy sometimes, didn’t I?”

Alexsy was watching me, his mouth pursed. “You don’t

like to accept compliments, do you?”

I shrugged. I really didn’t want to argue. Not here and

now. Right now, when Alexsy was leaning back in toward me
with those bright eyes and smiling with… what? Amusement,
enjoyment. Invitation?

“So tell me about life in London. In the big, bad city.” My

words were a little slurred. Maybe the brandy was having
more effect than I thought. “You work hard, you said. I’m
sure you play hard as well.”

Alexsy laughed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, irritated. “I know it’s not the most

original conversational gambit.”

“Just ask me,” he said.
“Ask you what?”
“I don’t know!” He tilted his head to one side. “But I can

see the questions in your eyes. You won’t offend me, Elliot.
Ask what you like.”

“I suppose you’ve had plenty of….” I couldn’t do it. I

couldn’t finish the question.

Alexsy laughed again. There was a teasing edge to his

voice. “Boyfriends? Lovers? Sex?”

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“Please.” The tops of my cheeks flamed; I could feel

them.

He just grinned. He seemed to have relaxed as well since

he’d started drinking the brandy. “Your face! I’m not trying to
embarrass you, Elliot, but are you so easily shocked?”

“No.” It felt more like confusion by now. “I’m just not

used to talking about it so openly.” With a near stranger.

“I’ve had boyfriends, yes. Of course. And plenty of sex.

Maybe a lot of what you would call one-night stands. They’re
good for what they are. Fun, delightful and usually very
brief. No strings, as they say.”

“How do you know it’ll be good?”
Alexsy frowned. “You manage your expectations.” His

gaze met mine, eyes clear and suddenly very knowing. “It’s a
risk but it’s an adventure too. And maybe it is an option
when you’re not sure what you’re looking for.”

Was he talking about me?
He leaned forward even farther, and I watched as his

hand slid down the inside of my arm and on to my chest. His
palm rested against my nipple. I didn’t push him away. My
heart started to beat so fiercely I expected his whole arm to
shake with the vibration. “You should try it, Elliot,” he said,
his voice low and slightly hoarse.

Was this a joke? What did he mean? “Maybe I should,” I

said. I was ludicrously proud my voice didn’t break up.
“Managing expectations, right?”

“Right.” He didn’t move his hand. In fact, he pressed

farther, moving gently against my breast as if he was
massaging me. The warmth of his palm was astonishing,
even allowing for the fact I felt hot all over. I found myself

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leaning forward as well, my eyelids heavy with something
more than the smoky seduction of the drink. Our faces were
only a few inches apart. What was going to happen? Was it
going to happen?

“May I give you an example?”
Example? “Whatever. I mean, yes. Go ahead.”
He drew in a soft breath, the sound like a further

caress. “Look at us. We’re both free. We both have time. I’m
sexually active and so are you. You like sex.”

I used to. Aloud, I said, “Yes, I do.”
“And you like me?”
“Yes.” God, yes. I’d have thought I was broadcasting it

all through the room, though maybe he had no idea of my
dry mouth and the urgent ache in my groin.

“You’d like to have sex with me?”
I thought for a second my heart had stopped with

shock. It stuttered, and life went on regardless, but a thread
of sudden, fierce bravery flared inside me. “Yes,” I said.

“So that’s how it would be,” he murmured back to me.

“Just like that.”

Just like that.
His hand moved up from my chest, the fingers trailing

until they rested against my jaw. “You have your own life.
You’re cautious of more commitment. That’s understandable.
And maybe you have Effie to think of, as well. Yet sometimes
you need a f—” He was obviously about to say something
blunt again, but maybe the shock of his last example still
showed on my face, because he bit back the first choice of
word. “Friend. Intimate friendship, in bed. Some uninhibited
fun.”

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“Uninhibited fun.” Repetition seemed a safe bet. I

reached out and slid my hand around his waist. The fabric of
his shirt creased under my fingers. I tried to imagine the
delight of the skin underneath, the pulse of flesh against
mine, the taste of another mouth, the touch of another body.
It had been many months since Bernie left, but not so long I
couldn’t remember how sex felt. It just all seemed very
different, here with Alexsy.

He shifted on his chair, hitching himself nearer. “Elliot.”
“No strings, as they say,” I whispered.
“No, no strings.” He brushed his lips against my ear,

barely touching. Somehow it was more exciting than if he
really had kissed me.

Which I realized I wanted him to. Very much.
“Like ships that pass in the night.”
He smiled again, and I felt the movement of his mouth

against my cheek. “The expression is odd but apt. Perhaps
passing in the street, on a motorway.” He shrugged, his
shoulder nudging mine. “In a coaching inn.”

I could be daring, too, couldn’t I? “In a hotel bedroom.”
No mistaking the way he tensed, though it passed

quickly. “Yes. I think that’s how it could be.”

“Could be?”
He pulled back then, slowly but very definitely. He

reached for his coffee, playing the same trick I’d been using
earlier, of face-hiding in the steam.

“And maybe you wouldn’t like to have sex with me,” I

said, slowly.

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At once, his eyes widened, and he put down the cup

with a clatter. “No! That’s not why I hesitate. Elliot, that’s
crap. You’re charming and funny. And very sexy.”

I was startled, both by the compliments and his sudden

vehemence. “I bet you say that to all the guys you pick up in
hotel bars.”

“No, I fucking well don’t!”
There was a sudden, rather ugly little silence. He looked

disturbed. I just felt very stupid.

Eventually, he sighed. He didn’t raise his voice, but his

words were faster than before, his tone sharper. “I’ll tell you
what I say. I tell them I like the look of them. They’re very
hot. That sort of thing. Sometimes I don’t bother finding out
their name, or looking them much in the eyes. Rarely do we
bother with a long conversation. If they respond with
interest, I just say I want to fuck them, do they want to fuck
me?”

“Alexsy….”
“I’m sorry, are you shocked again? Disgusted?”
“No, of course not.” I’d asked for it, hadn’t I? How very

deeply I wished I hadn’t. His face was grim, his previously
bright eyes leaden.

“And then we fuck,” he said boldly, and I was rather

shamefully glad we were still alone in the bar. “Wherever we
can find the time and location to suit. And I assure you, it’s
often very good.”

“I didn’t mean….”
“And then maybe I look for another man, or maybe they

look for me. Or it just happens.”

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| 38

“Alexsy, stop.” I caught his wrist and held it tightly. I

could feel his pulse racing under the taut skin, and I
wondered why he was upset. He’d been so pragmatic about
it. “Have I annoyed you?”

He smiled, though slowly. “No. It’s okay.” He was silent

for another moment, and I could feel the tension easing out
of him again. This close, I could smell his soap, or maybe it
was cologne. It had a tart, citrus fragrance. Excitement
spiked again in my belly, the same as when I’d felt his hand
on me and his mouth at my cheek.

I knew, suddenly and vividly, that I wanted that

intimacy back. His arm relaxed under my grip, but I found
myself reluctant to let go. “I assumed too much.”

“No, I encouraged you. I wanted to tell you about it.” He

shrugged, apparently calm again. “It’s a quick decision,
that’s all. A short-term decision. Not something you would be
interested in.”

“Now who’s assuming?”
He smiled, though his eyes were wary. I didn’t know

whether he was nervous of me, or if his thoughts were
elsewhere.

“You were explaining the advantages to me, yes? They

sounded good.”

“You think so?” He shook his head gently, still smiling.
“Fun, you said. Delightful.”
He laughed now, and I think I’d never been so pleased to

hear someone happy again in my life. “Oh, yes.”

“An adventure.” My heart was beating hard now and my

throat was threatening to close up. “And no strings.”

“Elliot, what are you saying?”

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“You said we were a good example.” God, would I have

to spell it out? No way was I going to beg. Well, not much.
“We’re those ships passing, aren’t we?”

Alexsy’s expression was still: I couldn’t read it clearly.

“Yes, of course. I’m going back to London tomorrow morning
at some miserably early hour. You have your home here to
go back to, your job, your life.”

My hand was curled into a fist. “But tonight we’re both

free. We both have time, remember? Like you said, it’s a
quick decision. You make them all the time, don’t you?”

“In some cases, yes.” He was watching me closely. His

lips looked wet as if he’d just run his tongue across them,
though I didn’t remember seeing it happen. “But you never
have, not in this context.”

“There’s always a first time.”
Alexsy’s eyes widened. There was a glimmer of

something quite naked in them. I was pretty sure it was
desire, though I didn’t know him well enough to know for
sure. A shiver ran down my spine. Hell, part of the
excitement was that not knowing.

“Elliot, I didn’t ask you for coffee just for that. I told

you—”

“Show, don’t tell,” I whispered, and then I reached over

and kissed him.

A

LEXSY

’

S

room was a modestly sized one at the back of the

hotel. One that wouldn’t be offered to the best guests, but
that could be kept for emergencies, for visiting staff.

For my first one-night stand.

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I didn’t think I was a fool. Nor was I some kind of victim,

a shy introvert seduced by a more experienced man. Oh no. I
definitely wanted this to happen.

It had a thrill of its own.
Alexsy switched on the side lamp, casting a pale rose

glow over the room. He put the half-finished bottle of brandy
on the bedside table, alongside our two glasses. Then he
slipped his watch off and placed it on the table as well. His
keys followed, and his mobile phone, which he turned off
first. We hadn’t said anything about not being disturbed, but
I was pleased by the gesture and followed suit. The only
person who’d call me would be Effie, and as I hadn’t heard
from her by now, I was assuming she and Drew were fine. In
the middle of a passionate reconciliation, I suspected. My
heart ached a little, a mixture of embarrassment and envy.

The bed was double-sized and carefully made, the

towels folded in a pile on the edge of it. I could see us both
reflected in the small TV screen, shadowy shapes with
glimmering eyes. The curtains had been drawn, nothing to
distract us from outside in the grounds. Another anonymous
hotel room, another set of tea- and coffee-making facilities,
another list of available TV channels and times for breakfast
in the morning.

But we were still facing the Night Before.
I felt Alexsy’s hand touch my lower back: not too soft

like a hesitant caress, but not too aggressive, a
possessiveness I might resent. Just right. How did he do
that? I felt goose bumps run along my skin, and my cock
stirred. Alexsy had no idea what I liked, what kind of a lover
I was, yet he touched me immediately. And not just with his
hand.

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Wow. It had been a long time, right? I was reading too

much into this, like I always had. Not a bad thing, to expect
to know a man well before getting naked into bed with him.
But I knew a few men had fought shy of it, too impatient to
wait, too disinterested to want Elliot the person, not just the
sex. And so I hadn’t had as much practice as I might like. Or
as much as Alexsy might expect. I felt my heart rate start to
speed up, found my teeth worrying at my lower lip.

“You’re thinking too much,” Alexsy whispered in my ear.

His lips pressed against the nape of my neck, making a
tantalizing, damp shape on my skin. “We can do what we
like, at whatever pace we like. In fact, we don’t have to do
anything at all.” His voice shook a little, despite the calm
words. “We can go back to the bar and call you a cab to go
home. Do you want that? I will understand….”

He needed to understand something more important,

something more immediate. I turned around so that my
chest was now against his, and I kissed him again. His
mouth was open in a startled O-shape, but he quickly
responded. He tasted delicious and just as eager, pushing
back at me with just the right balance of resistance and
acceptance, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. My beard
rasped along his smooth jaw, a teasing contrast. I made
some gargling noise in the back of my throat and leaned in.

“Slow down.” His hands landed on my shoulders and

gently pushed. “Hey. Elliot?”

“Shit.” I tried to pull away, aghast. I could hear myself

panting. “God. Too much, I’m so sorry….”

Alexsy’s hands tightened, holding me in place. “We’ve

apologized too much tonight. You’re fine, it’s not too much.
Just take it slow.”

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I was really glad he didn’t say we’ve got all night, or I

might have laughed aloud. I was a mixed-up pool of lust and
nerves and a touch of hysteria. He could probably see I was
hesitant, because he slid his hand around the back of my
neck and pulled me back to him, his mouth meeting mine all
over again. But this time it was firm, and I could taste more
than my own panic and eagerness. The room was quiet
except for the sound of our breath and the soft slick of our
lips against each other.

When Alexsy let go of me and started unbuttoning his

shirt, I grasped at mine in return. But I misjudged the
distance in the dim light and momentarily lost my balance.
Our foreheads bumped, and I staggered one step sideways.

Alexsy grabbed my elbow, steadying me.
“I won’t say it, okay?” I muttered. “I won’t apologize, but

bloody hell….”

He laughed very softly. His breath sounded shallow. “Let

me.”

“What?”
He raised his eyebrows, but his smile was reassuring.

“I’ll do it. I’ll undress you.”

Sudden, blazing heat in my gut made me gasp for

breath. “You don’t need—”

“I want to do it,” he said, more sharply. He put his hand

back on my chest and pushed gently. “Sit down on the bed,
Elliot. Start by taking off your shoes.”

“You have no idea,” I said, racked with almost hysterical

relief, “how good that sounds to me.”

Things relaxed from then. We laughed about the pain I

was in from those damned shoes, and what we really liked to

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wear when we weren’t at work. Just passing, casual chat, as
if we weren’t really getting undressed to fuck for the first
time. I settled on the edge of the bed, my breathing settling
to something more steady. I ached all over to touch him, but
the brief pause gave me a chance to recover some control.
Was that why he did it?

While I struggled with one of my shoelaces, he toed off

his boots with a nonchalant ease and rolled off his socks. I
couldn’t help but watch him. He twisted at the waist,
graceful and bold at the same time. His trousers tightened
across his thighs. I caught glimpses of the dark blond hair
on his chest where he’d opened his shirt. Maybe he heard
my intake of breath because he looked back down at me.

“Foot fetish, eh?” He wriggled his long bare toes on the

thin hotel carpet.

I think I’d abandoned any hope of controlling my

blushes tonight. “I genuinely don’t know.”

“Perhaps later we’ll find out.” He grinned and came to

stand between my outstretched knees. I resisted the
instinctive urge to close my legs, afraid he’d see my erection
straining against my trousers. There was no need to feel
embarrassed at being so aroused. After all, that’s what we
were here for, wasn’t it? I reached out, wanting to caress him
again.

“Elliot,” he whispered. And then he dropped to his knees

on the floor.

I just stared. His head was on a level with my chin, and

he placed his hands on my thighs. Shortness of breath was
becoming my default state. My cock swelled even more.

“I want to see you,” he said. He reached up, slid off my

tie, and started undoing my shirt, one button by one button,

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agonizingly slowly, it seemed. Yet his fingers slid under the
fabric with each movement, touching my skin, making the
hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. When he
finished, I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders. The room
was background warm, but the muscles across my belly
tensed up from contact with the air.

His eyes darkened so that the pupils barely showed any

reflection from the lamp. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze
travelled up my chest to my throat, and his lips opened a
fraction. I was about to make a joke about him telling me I
was hot—like he did all his other one-time lovers—but an
unusually wise intuition warned me to think again. It wasn’t
called for. Instead, I bit my lip and watched his hands
unfasten my trouser button and slide down the zip.

All in perfect, expectant silence.
His hands slid under my arse and tugged down my

trousers. I lifted myself up on my hands to help out, and
gave fleeting thanks to the god of men’s underwear that I
was wearing a decent pair of briefs tonight. But it was
academic, because Alexsy never looked at them, just gripped
them along with the trousers and pulled all of it down and
off my legs. I sat on the edge of the anonymous hotel
mattress, totally naked, the ridged edge of the coverlet
creased up underneath my buttocks, the rosy light casting
shadows over the left side of Alexsy’s face.

He stretched up and kissed me again. “Return the

favor?” he whispered.

I smiled. This was more like it. First, I took his face in

my hands and kissed him back, firm and deep. His head
bent back a little under my pressure, his tongue thick in my
mouth. I hadn’t kissed anyone in a very long time. Even
when Bernie was still around, he hadn’t been keen on too

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much of it. But Alexsy seemed to like it a lot. A soft moan
came from deep in his throat, and I felt his body relaxing.

I released one hand and flipped open his shirt buttons.

Again, one by one; again, the agonizing delay. But now I was
in charge. By the time I pushed the shirt back off his
shoulders, I was ready to make the most of him—to run my
hands over his torso, to feel his flesh under my fingers. His
shoulders were solid, the muscles tight under the skin.
Maybe he’d been a swimmer in his youth. He had that build.
There was a small line of sweat across his shoulders, and a
similar one under the light dusting of hair on his chest. His
chest was beautifully defined. Definitely an athlete. Not that
my rather flabby desk-bound body could compare….

“Elliot, please,” he said.
“What?”
“There’s that look in your eyes again. I’ve seen it before,

tonight in the bar. When you don’t like me talking about you,
when you think you’ve messed up.”

“It’s nothing.” But he made me smile again. “Come up

on to the bed.”

“In a moment.” He stood up and unzipped his own

trousers. Then stood there, looking down on me again.
Waiting for me to do something.

I put my hands on his waist and pushed the trousers

over his hips. They fitted a little more snugly than mine had,
and I needed to wriggle them down.

No underwear.
The tightness in my throat returned, and so did the

tightness in my lap as my cock swelled against my thigh. His
cock bounced out from under his clothes, only half-erect but

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definitely fully interested. A bead of come glistened at the
top. The shaft was thick and looked very flushed against his
pale groin.

He was watching me, watching him. Running his hand

over my jaw, he traced the line of my thin moustache. “I like
this,” he said, smiling. “I like the feel of it.” His hand
continued on down, combing through the hair on my chest.

“Not like yours,” I said. The hair on his chest was dark

blond and nowhere near as thick as mine. His nipples were
tight, dark brown buds on his breast. “I’m some kind of bear,
compared to you.”

He shook his head as if that were nonsense. “I like it,”

he repeated. “Do you want to suck me?”

I didn’t answer, but I suppose I didn’t really need to. My

enthusiasm must have shone in my eyes like a beacon. He
wriggled closer to the bed, and I put my hands on his hips,
whether to anchor him or keep me grounded on the planet, I
didn’t know. It seemed to be my evening for mental
shutdown in favor of pure sensation. His dick filled, curving
upward, brushing against my cheek, warm and inviting.
When he put his hand on my head and curled his fingers in
my hair, a frisson of excitement ran down my spine. He
didn’t push me to anything because I went very, very
willingly. But I liked the feel of his palm against my skull,
guiding me forward.

I was worried I’d be too quick, too slow, too not what he

wanted. In the end, it just didn’t happen like that. I slid my
mouth over him, excited at the feel of a cock in my mouth,
the smell of his lemony soap in my nostrils, the taste of his
flushed flesh on my tongue. I slid back and forth, letting
saliva ease my way. I cupped his sac in my hand, massaging

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it as I sucked. It was heavy and hot, the balls shifting inside
as I stimulated him.

“I like you, Elliot.” His voice was shaky, gasping for

breath among the words. “Not just your beard.”

I smiled. Rude to answer with your mouth full, and all

that.

“From the minute I saw you.” He sounded far away, as if

he were thinking aloud rather than chatting to me. “In that
room, on your own at the table. Not drinking, not writing.
You weren’t looking at the ladies.” He groaned as what I
hoped was a shudder of pleasure ran through him. “But you
were smiling. You have a great smile.”

I’d never talked much during sex, apart from the

obvious instructions if I were getting a cramp, or when
Bernie raced ahead as if forgetting I were part of the team.
There’d been too many instances of that, toward the end.
How long had things been going wrong, and why had I taken
so long to admit it?

Alexsy’s hand tightened on me, bringing me to a halt.

“Elliot? Stop now. Please.”

I let his cock slide out, saw it bob back against his belly,

glistening with my saliva. A loose pubic hair tickled at the
corner of my mouth. He hadn’t come yet. I would have
welcomed that taste too. “I don’t mind,” I said. I sounded a
bit shaky too. “You can come in my mouth.”

He shook his head gently, but he didn’t look worried or

disappointed. “I’d like to fuck you. Or be fucked by you. And
that’s not just want.” He knew I’d remember what he said in
the bar about his approach to casual sex partners. “Do you
want to go that far?”

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“Yes.” Oh God, yes. “You fuck me. I mean, if you want.

But I don’t have anything….” I couldn’t remember the last
time I’d carried a condom. I think I’d still been a teenager.

Alexsy grinned. He looked just for that second like a

mischievous schoolboy himself. “The benefits of working in
the hotel,” he said and shrugged. “There are plenty of
supplies in the men’s room.”

“And you brought some?”
He nodded. For a second he stood there silently, looking

down at me. We were both a little breathless. “Turn around,”
he said.

“What?”
“Lie face down on the bed. Please?”
I turned awkwardly and lay down, my cock thick and

clumsy under my belly. Just as I settled, I saw him kneel
down at the side of the bed again, his head now level with
my arse. He tugged my legs a few inches back toward him
until they hung over the edge of the mattress, on either side
of his shoulders. I lay there with my head pillowed on my
folded arms, wondering just how stupid I looked.

Until his hands gripped my buttocks, peeled the cheeks

apart, and his tongue swiped along the skin between. I
tensed up immediately, my feet lifting, my fists clenching. I
think I cried out. I’m not entirely sure what I did, because
my whole vision skewed, and my head swam with shocked
delight.

Alexsy stopped. I could feel his breath, hot on my damp

skin, raising the hairs on the back of my thighs. His thumbs
pressed hard into the muscles of my arse. “You don’t want
this? It’s no problem—”

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“No. I mean, yes!” My voice was muffled by the coverlet,

where I’d buried my scarlet cheeks. “Shit. It’s fabulous. Oh
God.”

“I know.” He sounded like he was grinning again. “It is

fabulous.” And he returned to the job in hand.

I’d never been rimmed before. My first boyfriend had

liked to play with the skin down there, to tease my opening
before lubricating me. But never… oh my God. Alexsy applied
himself to it as if he were enjoying it as much as I was.
Which I was. Dear God, I was.

By the time I was thoroughly wet down there and

Alexsy’s finger was patting at my entrance, I was totally and
deliciously relaxed. He slipped in the tip of his finger, then
stroked me inside. Another finger joined it. I opened my legs
even wider and wriggled my arse upward to encourage more.

Alexsy chuckled. “You are so gorgeous, Elliot.”
I didn’t know what he meant. I knew I wasn’t model

material. Dark-skinned and hairy compared to his clean-
shaven good looks. Maybe he was being polite. Polite? How
stupid was it to think like that, like now? When his mouth
and tongue nuzzled back in between my cheeks, I groaned
aloud.

He shifted, getting to his feet. Out of the corner of my

eye, I saw him reach for his trousers and take something
from his back pocket. The condom packet crackled quietly.

“It’s been a while,” I blurted out. My cock was so hard it

hurt, squashed underneath me. Bracing myself on my arms,
I pushed myself up on to my hands and knees. I was still
eager. It was just….

“It’s okay.” Alexsy’s voice was soothing. He stroked my

arse with his left hand. I could feel the heat of his groin

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behind me, but he wasn’t moving any closer. “Just tell me
when you’re ready.” He’d obviously brought some lube as
well, because when his other hand reached back to my
entrance, the fingers were slick and cool. He fingered me for
a while longer until I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.

I braced myself again and dropped my head down. My

cock jutted out, bobbing over the coverlet, blood-red and
aching. I didn’t dare lift a hand to touch it because I knew I’d
collapse on the bed without every bit of support I had. “Now,”
I said. “Please.”

He was clumsy; maybe I was too nervous. Whatever the

reason, it took us a few moments to get the right angle. He
knelt on the bed behind me and guided himself in. Very
slowly, but very firmly. I breathed deeply, relaxed myself,
pressed back against him when it felt needed. But the thrill
itself made me tense. He paused a couple of times and
adjusted his grip. I gasped once or twice and had to reassure
him things were okay. And then he was in, his groin pressed
against my arse, his hands planted on my back and hips.

“Oh God,” I think I moaned.
“Elliot,” he said, the word drawn out like a sigh.
“Please,” I repeated and pushed back against him. He

started to thrust, just gently at first, but when he felt me
moving in rhythm with him, he began to speed up. He leaned
over me, his skin sticky with sweat against my back. Again
and again, moving in and out of me, the bedding crumpling
up beneath us, our breath harsh.

I wished it could have lasted twenty times as long, but

finally we gave a few steady, deep thrusts together, and I
knew we were both near completion. My head swam, and the
muscle in one of my arms started to twitch from the tension.

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Alexsy gasped loudly, gripped me even more tightly, and
shuddered. I stopped my clumsy jerking around, allowing
him to rest against me as he came, to feel the ripple of
pleasure through his body against mine. He groaned and
shuddered again. Then he relaxed down on top of me. One of
his hands lay on my neck, and he stroked my hair, breathing
heavily. The rhythm seemed to match my heartbeat,
thudding slower and deeper as the excitement gentled. I
thought I could feel his heartbeat, too, the pulse matching
his caress.

He gave a long, deep sigh. He pulled out of me really

slowly, but I still felt his every movement vibrate through my
body. I assumed the brief scuffle behind me was him
disposing of the condom. I couldn’t even find the energy to
look back over my shoulder. The exhausting thrill of the sex
had me in its grip. I let my head hang down farther.

Alexsy’s hand stroked my arm. “Lie back on the bed,” he

whispered.

I fell, rather than lay, rolling on to my back like some

bag of bones that had lost its connection with the muscles.
As I turned, my cock dragged on the coverlet, and I winced.
My buttocks were aching, I was still adjusting to the loss of
him inside me, and I could feel a bead of sweat on my upper
lip, trapped in the hairs of my moustache. I wanted to
scratch it away, but how sexy was that going to be?

Alexsy swung his leg over my hips, straddling me. He

shifted so that he was resting on my calves. His gaze
flickered between my face and my groin and his eyes were
very feverish. “Gorgeous,” he murmured. “And now your
turn.”

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I couldn’t have protested anything even if I’d had the

desire to. My throat was blocked with a lump of what was
possibly pure need. He grinned mischievously as if he knew
how incapacitated I was, and he liked it that way. He dipped
his head over my lap and slid his mouth over my cock.

Oh God. I seemed to be using that phrase a hell of a lot,

even if it were only in my mind.

He licked rather than sucked, his tongue alternately

lapping and laving at the crown. At the same time, he curled
his hand around the base and slid it back and forth in time
with his mouth. He had a firm touch but his grip wasn’t too
rough. My climax raced for release within seconds of him
starting, but he seemed to sense this and pinched at the
head until the moment of explosion passed. At least, that’s
what he did for the first couple of times. I was never going to
last long. It was all about the suspense thing.

I hitched up on to my elbows and looked down on him

properly. He glanced up at me after every few licks and there
was pure delight in his eyes. He slid his other hand under
my balls, weighing them in his palm, stretching a fingertip
back to stroke the skin between my balls and my arse. It was
great. I could hear myself panting loudly, too excited for
embarrassment. By wriggling half-upright, I could reach him
too. At last I had the chance to run my hand over his head,
the soft hair snagging between my fingers, his scalp warming
my palms.

“Now,” I whispered, wondering if he’d know what I

meant. I daresay the way my hips were bucking and the
sudden tension in my thighs alerted him as well. My head
arched back onto the bed, and I climaxed, an inarticulate
and wholly unintentional cry forcing its way out of me. He

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kept me in his mouth, holding me inside firm lips, his hand
still caressing.

I came down from the stratosphere eventually, but I

genuinely believe the world stopped for that moment. Alexsy
shifted again on the bed, releasing my rapidly wilting cock,
his fingers still trailing along my oversensitive skin, as if he
didn’t want to lose contact. The way he flopped down
awkwardly beside me suggested he wasn’t in control as
much as I’d thought.

We lay there for what seemed like a long while, half in

the other’s arms, half-covered by the bedding. The room was
quiet apart from our breathing. The air conditioner hummed
occasionally in the background. I felt a deep, delicious
lassitude and a feeling of a job well done. I felt drunk, and it
was nothing to do with the brandy.

“Elliot?”
Ridiculous.
“Elliot, are you falling asleep?”
“No,” I protested, but I knew my eyelids were heavy and

my body was calling for rest. And then I yawned.

Alexsy raised his eyebrows and tightened his hold on

me.

I tried to turn the next yawn into a sigh, but he was

obviously a brighter man than that. “I’m sorry. In all the
movies, they go at it for hours, right?” I was obviously a
disappointment to every porn storyboard out there, though I
didn’t feel brave enough to say that.

Alexsy chuckled, the same warm sound I’d heard a few

times in the bar. “No apologies, remember? And I’m perfectly
okay with whatever you want.”

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I just sighed.
The last thing I consciously heard was him chuckling

again. “Whatever, Elliot,” he whispered. And I may have been
mistaken, but I thought I felt his kiss on my neck as I
slipped quickly into sleep.

I

WOKE

in what felt like the middle of the night. Quite

suddenly, and with no idea why. I sat up in the unfamiliar
bed, leaning back against the headboard, the sheet tucked
around my waist. The room was warm enough and there was
a pleasant, musky smell. Thank God the “Summer Breeze”
maniac hadn’t rampaged through these rooms as well. The
aroma here was far more natural, and strangely stimulating.

Idiot. With a flush of embarrassment that luckily no one

would ever see, I realized I was smelling the sweat and
warmth of my own skin. And Alexsy’s. My shoulders felt stiff.
When I moved on the mattress, I realized my arse was sore.

Funny how I wanted to smile rather than complain.
I glanced down beside me. Alexsy was stretched out on

his side in the bed, facing me. He was deeply asleep and
snoring very quietly. His lower hand was caught up under
the pillow, as if cradling his head.

The bedside clock blinked three a.m. at me. I wondered

what time Alexsy had to leave to return to London. It was a
good four-hour drive, and he might get caught up in rush
hour traffic nearer the city. I didn’t know what car he had,
whether it was a powerful one, or some old banger like mine
that had to take a break every couple of hours to cool down,
at least until I got the radiator hose fixed….

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What the hell was I babbling on about?
He made a snuffling noise. I wondered if he snored all

the time or just because of the brandy. I should probably go
back to sleep; I’d need my rest over the weekend after such a
late night and… unfamiliar exercise. I realized I was smiling
into the darkness. I also realized I wasn’t going to go back to
sleep.

The coverlet had slipped off the bed during the night

and was lying heaped on the floor. The rest of the white
sheet I was clutching around my waist was tangled up
around Alexsy, covering his thighs to his feet. His upper
body was exposed, his skin a gray color in the pale morning
light seeping into the room from between a crack in the
curtains. I watched his chest moving slowly with his
breathing, listened to occasional tutting sounds from his
mouth. I let my gaze wander down his body, my eyes still
adjusting to the light. The hair between his legs was a darker
shadow than the flesh. The skin over his hip looked very
smooth. I watched his cock stir with each breath, at rest
against his thigh, a fine size even now. I didn’t remember
ever watching Bernie like this, even in the early days.

Alexsy’s mouth opened in a soft, silent yawn.
I reached over and kissed his shoulder. He yawned

again, and one of his eyes peeled open. “Good morning.”

“It’s still early,” I whispered. “You can get some more

sleep.”

He smiled, and both eyes opened. “Or maybe not.”
His waking was more than conversation, more than

movement. It was as if the room suddenly filled with extra
warmth and stimulation. My heart started beating faster.

“Come here. Elliot, you’re cold.”

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“No, I’m not.” I protested, because he was as far out of

the bedding as I was, but his hand certainly felt warmer on
me. He tugged me back down into the bed, pulled the sheet
over us both to our shoulders, and spooned up behind me.
Close. Another body against mine, a hand curled over my
waist, holding me tight. Thighs pressing against the backs of
my legs, a soft cock nudging against my arse. I was content
to lie there for a while, savoring it.

There were distant noises outside the hotel, probably

delivery vans or early morning movement from less leisurely
guests. Somewhere, far away, I heard a muted siren. I knew
it wasn’t headed here. There wasn’t anything I needed to
worry about. It was a good feeling, and I wanted to make the
most of it.

“Alexsy?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s life like in London?”
He chuckled. “You’ve never been?”
“Yes, of course I have.” I didn’t want him to think I was

some kind of country bumpkin. “A few days here and there.”
A weekend once with Bernie when he had a contract up
there and wanted some company.

Alexsy shifted on the mattress and his hand slid down

to rest on my lower belly. “It’s busy. Fast. Always changing.”

“But that’s the fun of it, isn’t it? You strike me as a man

who can cope with all that, who thrives on excitement.”

He seemed to tense up behind me. “It’s been a good

place to me. I’ve done well. The family is pleased.”

I frowned. His tone was flat. With a sudden mental stab

of shock, I recalled I’d only known this man for a night. What

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did I really know about what he liked or did well? And why
would I think I had any right to know? We’d had some
fantastic sex and slept together and now I could feel the
weight of his naked body against mine in the early morning.
But that was all it was. He had no reason to chat to me
about his home and his future plans, no motivation to share
his deepest feelings.

I felt very, very stupid. Not because of Alexsy—no, he’d

been great, kind and amusing and bloody wonderful in bed.
But because of me. Managing expectations, he’d said. I was
obviously still working on that.

“And what about here, Elliot?”
“Here?”
He sighed softly. His breath tickled between my

shoulder blades. “Here in your small town that has all you
need.” He sounded more wistful than scornful. “Where you
know mostly everyone, where you are gay and comfortable
with it. Where you can live on your own yet have many
friends. Be part of the community.” His chuckle was
restrained this time. “Where you can come to a speed dating
night to support your sister, and that seems quite
acceptable.”

I lay there for a moment, startled. “It’s not really like

that, Alexsy.” There had been trouble with being gay, when I
was younger, when I was still at school. But things had
improved as I got older, a combination of finding the right
support around me and working on my own confidence.
Knowing how I wanted to live my life, and being determined
to try my best at that.

But life in a small town? Alexsy had a commonly

romantic view of it. “It can be boring and frustrating here,

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you know. Everyone thinks they know my business, my
family’s business too. I’ve lived here all my life, through
nursery, school, and even a local university. Now I work in
the insurance company in town, and I’ve stuck at the same
grade for years because we’re only a sub-branch, no
opportunity to earn more, to have more responsibility.” I
sighed. “And socially? The shops are limited, and there’s only
one vegetarian restaurant. Most of the entertainment here is
geared toward tourists, and the nearest decent club is miles
away in Exeter. Same friends, same scenery. All that’s
changed is my age.” My throat felt suddenly constricted. “It
can be lonely.”

Alexsy was silent again for a long moment. When he

spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper. “It’s just as lonely in the
city.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to turn around and

hold him, face to face. Was that in the rules?

“I miss my family,” he said. It was still barely more than

a whisper. “I didn’t want to return to Poland with them, not
yet, anyway. I love it here. And I visit them whenever I can.
But there’s pressure on me to go back for good. My mother
would like me to settle down.”

“Settle down? But they know—?”
“Yes, they know I’m gay. And they understand.” Another

small silence before he spoke again. It was difficult, not
being able to see his expression, yet maybe he preferred it
that way. “They don’t expect a wife and children. But I think
my mother would like me to be more”—he gave an
exasperated sigh—“steady.”

“You have a great job. You work hard.”

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“And like you said, play hard too.” He gave a short,

sharp laugh. “Perhaps they’re just jealous of my freedom,
right?”

I nodded as if that were a likely answer. But I knew I

was the opposite: that steady had been more my watchword
in the family than playing hard, and for a long time. “Alexsy,
earlier tonight you asked what happened to me, why I’m on
my own.” I don’t know what inspired my desire to confess.
Maybe it was because this was only a one-night stand,
because I knew I wouldn’t have to face small-town
repercussions the next day. Or maybe it was Alexsy’s
sympathetic presence.

“It doesn’t matter, Elliot.”
“It does to me.” Did, to me. “I lived with Bernie for a

year. And now I realize he never really felt comfortable in a
gay relationship. Oh, he was gay all right, but he never took
me to work events. I never met his family. In public, he never
wanted to acknowledge what we were. And after a while, he
wasn’t even acknowledging it at home.” There’d been no
listening eyes from Bernie. “He got a transfer to another
office one day, and he just left. He said he was bored by our
life, but I think it was with me. He said I was making him
middle-aged before his time, and….” God, I hadn’t thought
about this for some time, glad to find myself gradually
getting over the blow to my pride and self-esteem. “He said I
was unadventurous in bed. In sex.”

Alexsy let out a breath, hot on the back of my neck.

“Cruel and unnecessary.”

“Yes. I mean, I know that now….”
“And untrue.”

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I tensed up. Obviously, Alexsy couldn’t make a

judgment call like that. I waited for him to say something
else—to complete the joke—but he didn’t. Instead he kissed
my neck, licking it gently, moving toward my ear lobe. My
back arched against him. I couldn’t mistake his cock still
nudging my arse, but it was no longer soft.

God. To my delight and slight amazement, my cock was

thickening as well.

“Elliot?” he whispered in my ear. “It’s good to fuck in the

morning.”

“As opposed to any other time?” I laughed. Lust

uncoiled inside my gut, my mouth watered for the taste of
him again, my sore body felt reinvigorated. He shifted again,
his shadow rising over me. Putting a hand to my shoulder,
he rolled me over onto my back. His eyes shone in the half-
light, and the muscles of his shoulders bunched as he held
himself up, looking down at me.

“Elliot, you are an adventure. You, yourself. You were

great. Do you believe me?”

I wanted to, but I didn’t dare reply.
“Last night,” he murmured. “It was what you wanted?”
I smiled up at him. He was magnificent, silhouetted

against the curtains: his bright eyes, the pale, tousled hair
on his fine-shaped head, his broad chest, his heavy, eager
cock, already rising again to bob at his belly. “Yes,” I said.
“And more.”

“And so, believe me. Because it was what I wanted too.”

He leaned down to kiss me once, quickly, smiling back at
me. “You know, I wasn’t bored for a single moment.”

He made me laugh. It had been a long time since I

laughed in bed. “I’d like the good morning sex,” I said. “I

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mean—if there’s an option of the one-night and one-morning
stand.”

It was only half a joke. I couldn’t identify the look that

flashed in his eyes, but then he laughed as well, so
everything must have been fine.

“There is an option. Most definitely.” He put his hands

on my knees and pushed them apart. My legs came up, my
feet planted on the mattress. I was totally exposed to him.

“Please,” I said, softly.
He sucked in a breath and ran his hand along the inside

of my thigh. I felt my balls tighten in the sac, my hole clench
with anticipation.

“I want to look at your face when you come, Elliot. When

I’m inside you.” He moved smoothly to snatch up another
condom from the bedside table.

I didn’t feel sleepy at all anymore.

I

WOKE

again a couple of hours later, the light much brighter

and the sound of traffic and voices outside. The smell of
cooking wafted from the kitchen in the next block, and
someone down the corridor slammed their door shut,
presumably on their way down to early breakfast. Alexsy sat
on the edge of the bed, his back to me. He was dressed
again, but seemed to be struggling with one of his boots. As I
watched, he fixed it and straightened up.

“Alexsy?”
He didn’t turn around. “I have to go now, or I’ll be late to

work. I’ll collect my jacket from reception on my way out.”

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“Yes, of course.” I shifted to sitting, blinking away the

sleepiness.

“You can stay longer, if you like. The room is free all

day, and if you want breakfast, just tell them I okayed it.”

I nodded, though he probably didn’t see.
He stood, slipping his watch back on to his wrist. He

picked up his mobile and turned it on, then slid it with his
keys back into his pocket. He finally turned to face me. I
thought he looked different today, although in the same tight
shirt and smart trousers. Maybe the difference was in my
view, not his looks.

“An adventure, Elliot,” he said, very softly. “That’s what

you are. What we had. Yes?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “Um. Thanks.”
He frowned, briefly. “Thanks to you, as well. I hope you

don’t have a bad opinion of me.”

“A bad opinion? God, no. I mean, why would I?”
He shrugged. His gaze dropped for a moment. “My view

of life. Of sexual”—he seemed to struggle for the right word—
“relationships.”

“Hey, no, that’s fine.” I felt dreadfully awkward, sitting

naked in a bed while he was about to leave. “That’s how you
are, and you’re honest about it. I really appreciate that.
Don’t apologize.”

He glanced at me, and we both laughed. It felt good.
“I’m glad it was you,” I said, quickly before I could hear

and be appalled at the cheesy crap I was spouting.

He smiled and nodded, then turned and walked out of

the room. He shut the door quietly behind him.

I didn’t stay around for breakfast.

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I

T WAS

three weeks after that night, as I continued to think

of it, a Friday night at nine thirty p.m. I sat in my car in the
hotel parking lot, watching the light spilling out from the
front door, welcoming guests. Inside was warmth, company,
good food.

And, I knew, the monthly Date Night.
“We should be finishing our meal around ten,” Effie had

said on the phone to me this morning. “Drew doesn’t want to
stay out late.” I’d rolled my eyes at the giggle in her voice,
but we both knew I was glad to hear it had returned. “If you
could pick us up about then, that’d be great. Thanks for
offering to be chauffeur for the night, Elliot.”

“It’s fine.” Of course it was. It wasn’t as if I had any

other plans at the moment. My social calendar was looking
more like a blank grid than a chessboard of party
arrangements.

“We’d have changed our booking if there’d been more

notice about the Date Night being brought forward. But
Drew says the restaurant will still be quiet, and we’ll be
leaving before all the daters spill out into the bar.” The giggle
came again. “We wanted to return to the scene of the crime,
you know? The place we got back together. A remembrance
of that night.”

God. “I know, love. It’s sweet.”
Effie made a snorting noise down the phone. “You’re too

bloody decent. You know that?”

“I’m sorry?”

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“You’ve offered to ferry us about, even though you don’t

like going back there.”

“No way—”
“Elliot, twice we’ve organized a meet with the old school

crowd, but you’ve cried off when you heard it was at the Inn.
Did I warp you emotionally that night, dragging you to my
speed dating with a bunch of heterosexual guests?”

“Don’t be silly, of course not.” I laughed, though it

sounded tense. “I’ll join you on the next social meet. I just
think the place has been over-promoted, that’s all. I’m keen
on finding something new.”

Effie was silent for a moment, and when she spoke

again her voice was more subdued. “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell for?”
She sighed. “Damned if I know. Not exactly, anyway,

though I have my suspicions. But you’ve been odd since that
night, a bit sad sometimes. Like you’re dissatisfied with your
life. And now you say you’re looking for something new.”

“Hell, Effie, I’m not setting out to trek the Amazon

rainforest. Just maybe some local traveling, a new hobby, get
myself a better car. Things like that. I’m just saying that life
changes, that’s all.”

She made that snorting sound again. “I don’t like seeing

you upset, whatever the reason. I love you, brother.”

I laughed again, with more warmth. “It’s mutual. And

I’m fine. I’ll pick you up at ten, okay?”

So here I was, in the car park. I was early, and it was

cold outside, so it was stupid to wait for Effie and Drew in
the car when there was a warm hotel beckoning me in. But
Effie was right: I had been avoiding the hotel. I had nothing

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but delightful memories of that night, but I hadn’t been back
since, not even for a drink. I’d been thinking things through,
looking at my life as if I were standing outside of it. There
were plenty of good things in it, yes, plenty of fun and
friendship and… adventure, of a sort. But I was starting to
think about there being more.

Someone thumped on the car window, and I jumped.
“Your lights are still on,” mouthed a little old lady,

peering into the car. Three other elderly members of the
Ladies’ Knitting and Tae Kwon Do Club stood behind her,
nodding. “Your battery will go dead.”

“Don’t get too close,” another one warned her.

“Remember your training, Lily.” Presumably in fear of being
distracted while on her way to her car and the safety of
home, she clutched her large handbag to her chest like a
shield. “That’s how they draw you in and snatch you.”

“In Totnes?” The woman at the window wrinkled her

small, powdered nose with disdain. “Really, Annie, you
shouldn’t watch C.S.I. every night.”

“Isn’t that Eric Crown’s boy?” piped up the woman at

the back. “He sold me my home insurance. Very nice
manner.”

I rolled my eyes, clicked off my lights, and climbed out

of the car.

O

VER

in the function room, the new Date Night was in full

swing. A whistle went off just as I came through the
revolving front doors, and I heard the familiar scrape of
chairs and the hubbub of voices. There was plenty of

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laughter tonight. Maybe there’d be no crises this month. I
watched as a young woman crossed the foyer, clutching a
tray of drinks. She nodded and smiled “hello” at me. She
worked at the hairdresser’s; I used to go to school with her
brother.

Yes, it was a small town.
“Elliot!” Effie and Drew were over by the reception desk.

Effie waved furiously at me as if we were miles away from
each other. She looked gorgeous in an almost-backless blue
dress, and Drew was wearing a smart suit and tie. “We’re not
going home, Elliot. Don’t you ever answer your mobile?”

I patted my pocket awkwardly. “Damn. I forgot to charge

it. It must have run out of juice on the way over.”

“We’re going to stay the night,” Effie announced. Her

eyes were shining in that four glasses of wine way she had.
“Get a luxury room with spa bath. Pretend we’re rock stars,
hiding our love from the world’s press.”

“And we don’t have to wash up after dinner,” Drew

muttered.

I met his eyes over Effie’s head, and we both grinned.

“That’s fine,” I said. “No problem. Maybe I’ll have a coffee in
the bar, then go and see a film instead.” Or something rather
less exciting. At work this week I’d learned about a potential
opening in H.R. It’d be a welcome change from Claims
Processing. But I’d been working late on my application for
the last couple of nights, and I was pretty tired. I turned
toward the bar, not sure I even wanted to stay for a coffee.

And he was standing in the doorway. Alexsy’s eyes

stared at me, bright and blue and totally concentrated.

Paying-attention eyes.

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Effie touched my arm. “That’s the relief manager, isn’t

it?”

“Yes.” My voice sounded odd, like someone else’s. “He’s

from the London branch. He was called in to help out that
night when Drew followed you to the Date Night and… well,
you know.”

Effie flushed and flapped her hand urgently at me,

obviously trying to stop me recalling any more about the
night she embarrassed herself in the Ladies’. As Drew’s arm
tightened protectively around her waist, I wondered if she
had any idea how much I recalled about that night. And
recalled it every night.

“No, Elliot, he’s actually the relief manager here, now. At

this hotel. I don’t know how long for.” She glanced over at
Alexsy and then back to me. Her eyes narrowed. “He came
over and said good evening while we were having a drink
before dinner. Explained he’d been transferred here for a
while, they’d been pleased how he handled the last Date
Night at short notice. I didn’t think he’d remember me.”

Drew met my gaze over her head again. This time we

winked.

Effie poked me in the chest. “And you know what? He’s

looking over at you.”

Not me. “No, not really. He’s just doing his job, keeping

an eye on the guests.”

Effie’s eyes grew sly. “Ah, but he’s not on duty tonight,

smart arse.”

“What?”

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“He can tell you himself, just what he told us.” I

watched in semi-horror as she turned to face Alexsy and
raised her hand to beckon him over.

“Effie, wait.”
Too late. I stood there, watching his graceful stride as he

approached. I smiled. I held out my hand and shook his
when he offered. All very civilized.

“Hello.”
“Hello,” he said. The same soft, amused voice, the gentle

lilt.

There was a brief pause, and I felt as if everyone was

waiting for me to speak. “Effie says you’re working here
now.”

He nodded. His gaze never left me. “Temporary transfers

within the hotel chain are common. It’s part of the advanced
training program. Working at another location is seen as a
chance to develop my range of management skills.”

It’ll certainly do that, if it involves the Ladies’ Club. “For

how long?” I felt rather than saw Effie turn to stare at me.
Maybe she thought I was being rude. Maybe I was.

“It depends,” Alexsy said, quietly.
“I said he was mad.” Effie laughed, though no one else

joined in. “Leaving the bright lights of London for the dull
routine of the West Country. And apparently he gave up his
free evening tonight to come and look around, because he
heard the Date Night had been rescheduled. Right?”

Alexsy nodded, but he continued to watch me. It wasn’t

hostile or provocative. He just looked at me, his eyes
flickering as if he were cataloging me, checking me out.

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“That definitely shows commitment,” I said. The palms

of my hands felt sticky. “Professional interest?”

“No,” he said, quite steadily. “Personal.” His eyes seemed

to soften, and he reached a hand to my face. He ran his
finger along the line of my goatee and then touched my
cheek, nothing more, but as if checking I were real. Every
single nerve in my body shivered with pleasure.

Drew gave a small, startled gasp. Effie grinned with

what I’m pretty sure would be described as naked triumph
and took her boyfriend’s arm. “Let’s go and investigate the
complimentary toiletries in our room, honey. These two need
to be alone.”

“They’re in the middle of the foyer,” Drew said, blinking

hard. “We all are.”

“Not for much longer,” she said, and pushed him firmly

toward the stairs.

Alexsy and I stood there, just looking at each other, and

when Effie darted back, she had to shake my arm to get my
attention.

“Elliot? I told you, he’s been looking at you since you

came in,” she hissed in an outrageous stage whisper that I’m
sure was clear to every guest passing through the reception
area, and maybe even the car park. “And with such a perfect
example of just-you eyes!”

“I

T

’

S

good to see you back. A career opportunity for you,

obviously.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. At least
conversation stopped me gazing at him with stupid, eager-
puppy eyes. Though I’m not sure I wasn’t doing that as well.

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“Elliot, I’m not only here for my job.”
I smiled, rather stupidly I think. “I’m glad.”
We stared at each other a bit longer. A couple of people

grumbled as they had to break their path to the desk around
us, but we didn’t move. He seemed nervous, too, which was
odd. I suppose I’d invested him with all the confidence and
the direction that night.

“I didn’t assume you’d be here tonight again. I didn’t

assume anything.” He shrugged with a graceful gesture of
his hands that created echoes in my own body of how he’d
touched me. “I wouldn’t want to put you under any
pressure.”

“I wish you would,” I said quietly. It was a delight to see

him smile, quickly and instinctively. “But I do understand.”

Alexsy’s eyes darkened. “You do?”
I drew a deeper breath. “I understand how it can be

casual. What we… did. What we agreed—”

He put his hand on my arm, interrupting me. “No, you

don’t understand.”

“No?”
“No,” he said, rather vehemently. “You see, I don’t want

it to be like that.”

I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t mean to mock him or

anything, but I admit I was startled. “It was a one-night
stand, Alexsy. Remember? A very successful one, if you don’t
mind me saying, and one that achieved its purpose, but all
over now. No strings, we said.”

“God. Elliot.” He looked distraught. He must have been

in this position before, I thought. Though it would have been
him facing the casual lover who maybe wanted more,

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explaining that’s all there was on offer. And now… Alexsy
was looking at me as if I were the one who was cutting
things short.

As if he wanted more.
He swallowed hard. I watched the gentle throb of his

throat. “I do remember. Of course I do. Every minute.” He
colored slightly. “And I understand that’s what you wanted.
All you wanted.”

“No,” I said, again, but this time I grinned.
“What?”
“It isn’t all I wanted. Just all I hoped for.”
He stared at me, warily, but a twinkle returned to his

eyes. “Are you joking?” He grimaced. “I don’t have a lot of
practice in second dates, Elliot. If you’re really not
interested—”

“I am.” I took his hand and held it tightly. We were still

in the middle of the hotel foyer, but if he didn’t mind public
displays of affection, I was damned if I did.

“It’s the first time for me,” he said. When I frowned at

him, puzzled, he rushed on. “The first time I ever really
stopped to think about the man in bed with me. The first
time….” He colored again. “The first time I ever really liked
him.”

“You really don’t have much practice, do you?” I was

still grinning, but my heart was thudding a rhythm that felt
a lot like singing. At the top of my voice.

“I asked for this transfer,” he said, doggedly. “I wanted

to be here, to spend more time in this town, to see you
again.”

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“Another one-night stand?” I was afraid my jokes were

suffering from that shortness of breath thing again.

“More than one,” he said. His confidence was returning.

“Many more.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out one
of the Date Night notepads. “Here.”

I took it from him. On it he’d written: Elliot Crown.

Twelve times. With a tick against each one.

I started laughing.
“Elliot, what did Effie mean, about my eyes?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go dancing

tonight!”

Get the whole package at

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

About the Author

C

LARE

L

ONDON

took her pen name from the city where she

lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic,
testosterone-fueled family home, she juggles her writing with
the weekly wash, waiting for the far distant day when she
can afford to give up her day job as an accountant.
She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with
novels and short stories published both online and in print.
She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say
she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good
fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male
romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical
passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about
strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.
Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky
chapter three stage and plenty of other projects in mind...
she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic,
testosterone-fueled family home.
Visit Clare’s web site at

http://www.clarelondon.co.uk

and

her blog at

http://clarelondon.livejournal.com/

.

More Daily Dose and Advent Calendar packages

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Just-You Eyes ©Copyright Clare London, 2011

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Catt Ford

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
June 2011

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-030-1