Page 95 of Fragile

“I won’t take no for an answer. Come on,” she panted, dragging me towards a section of the room where others were suffering the same fate. Fuck me I hated dancing but if it made her happy, I’d bloody well do it.

“Don’t blame me if I stand on your feet,” I threatened with a chuckle.

Tugging her small frame against my much bigger one I lapped up that feeling of having her in my arms again. This special woman now had a permanent place in my heart. I couldn’t be without her. When she wasn’t there, I felt like I’d lost a limb. Fuck me, even if the threat wasn’t over in respect of Gerard and his fucking army, I needed to be with her and I would protect her with my life.

After the dance was over, Leonie said she was popping to the ladies and I let her go, rejoining Max at the bar. He’d been trying to avoid the attention of a tall woman with bleached blonde hair and a bright orange tan. If they’d released a Whore version of Barbie, it would have been created in her image.

“You’ve got it bad,” Max said as I joined him.

“What now?” I replied, grabbing my drink.

“Well, for a start, you missed your turn at pool. Sam had to take your place and now they're placing bets.”

“I got distracted,” I confessed. They could have called me over as I was only a few feet away.

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

“What?” I rasped.

“You’re pussy whipped,” Max scoffed.

I released an elongated sigh. “Who gives a shit. What can I say, she’s a pretty decent distraction. Leonie would bring anyone to their knees. Even you.”

Max chuntered, “I feel like yanking your jeans down.”

“Why?”

“So, I can see what a man with a vagina looks like. That is the first time I have ever seen you dance. You’ve lost it, mate.”

I cracked my knuckles, knowing he was right. Fuck it, baby steps and all that and if I could admit it to myself, I could to Max.

He turned to face me and I glared up into his pretty boy face. “Not that I think that’s a bad thing,” he then said, starting to swirl the liquid in the bottle around.

Placing my drink back on the counter, I braced myself against the bar as some drippy fucker fell into me and spilt their drink down one of my legs.

Max watched the accident and another flash of disbelief crossed his face. Possibly as I’d let it go. The old me would have lamped the guy for being so clumsy and then slapped the dry-cleaning bill his way, but I just let it go.

Max was staring at me with a thoughtful look. “You should just accept how you feel and go for it?”

“What do you mean? I prompted.

He scratched his jaw before he levelled with me. “In a nutshell mate. Leonie is the best thing to ever walk into your life and so you better make damn sure you don’t fuck it up.”

I wanted to confess, but it didn’t feel like the right time. We were surrounded by pissheads. Max’s orange groupie was also making a beeline for us and so I pussied out. “OK, I like her, but she’s a friend,” I lied.

Max grunted and then shrugged. “And I’m your mother. For fucks sake, life is there for living. You’re lucky to have her.”

That was Max’s way of saying that he knew how I felt. I wanted to man-hug the fuck out of him. but I wasn’t that far gone so I just said, “I know.”

“You need to do nice stuff for her. Buy her presents and shit, women love that,” Max said into his beer, having suddenly turned into an agony aunt.

“I’ve bought her flowers before,” I pointed out.

Max grunted, “Not very imaginative is it.”

I turned the tables. “What about you?”

“What about me? I’m a confirmed bachelor. Always have been, always will be.” Max was well-practised in using endless streams of sarcasm to cover his flaws. I knew for a fact that he had a hang-up for Amber. I’d seen them at the Charity Ball fighting. If you didn’t give a shit, why argue?

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