Page 66 of Toy Boy

I’m letting Scott Warren take up too much of my headspace.

And that needs to stop…

Xander

He’s there, at the bar. Scott Warren. Holding court, surrounded by around half a dozen people, all fawning over him like he’s some kind of messiah figure, and he’s loving the attention. I can tell. But his mask slips the second his gaze catches mine. The smile vanishes, his jaw clenches, I’m getting to him. Good. That’s exactly what’s supposed to happen.

I turn away and order our drinks, glancing briefly back over at Scott, but he’s resumed his conversation with a tall, striking red-head, and I can tell, just from that brief glance, that she’s someone who enjoys his company. The way she touches him as she talks, her hand flitting on and off of his arm, his shoulder, her eyes never leaving his face, there’s a group of them there but she’s only engaging with him.

I pay for the drinks and start to make my way back outside, to Megan, but I stop at the doorway that leads out onto the terrace, and I take another look over at Scott. Mr. Scott Warren. The red-head has directed her attention at another man in their group, although her hand is still resting on Scott’s arm, and he’s making no attempt to remove it as he talks to an older woman and a younger man, I’m guessing they’re all colleagues of his from the hospital. He doesn’t strike me as a man who has many close friends.

“Hey. Something wrong?”

Megan’s voice startles me, her hand resting gently against the base of my spine as she sidles past.

“No. Sorry, I got distracted by something.”

She looks over at the bar, and frowns as she catches sight of Scott. “Something?” And then she looks at me, and I smile.

“Maybe I’m just a little bit insecure around him.”

Her brows knit further together, her hand falling from my back. “Insecure? Around Scott? Why?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, exactly. He’s just…”

“My ex-husband. You have absolutely no reason to feel insecure, besides, I thought we were only having fun. Nothing serious. Are you suddenly changing the rules?”

I want to. I wish I could. I’m trying hard not to.

“No, of course not.”

She smiles, reaches up to cup my cheek and pulls my head down until her lips touch mine in the briefest of kisses, but it’s long enough to kick start my heart and once again make me realise how dangerous this could be. How reckless I’m being with this woman.

“You have nothing to worry about, Xander.”

Maybe she’s right. But the way she looks at him… I don’t know. And maybe she doesn’t know she’s doing it, but I see it. And it’s like a kick to the gut. And then I realise, that kiss…

“That’s the second time tonight you’ve kissed me, in public.” The corner of my mouth turns upwards, yeah, I can’t stop smiling. Neither can she.

“I know. We’re definitely not a secret anymore, huh?”

I guess not.

“Anyway, I’m just nipping to the loo. I won’t be a sec.”

I watch as she winds her way through the crowded bar, stopping to talk to people, and I once again look over at Scott, he’s looking at her, but she doesn’t acknowledge him. It’s obvious now, he still wants her. And I’m in no doubt that he still thinks he can have her. He can’t. He won’t. It isn’t going to happen…

Scott

I can’t shake the feeling that Beachcastle Bay, it just – to me, anyway – seems to be a strange choice of summer destination for a man like Xander Johansson. And I know a lot of people are still fascinated by this handsome stranger’s arrival in our little seaside town, Megan included, the way she looked up at him just now, his tall, imposing figure almost dwarfing her smaller frame, it killed me just watching that short interaction between the two of them. The way she kissed him, it broke my fucking heart, and now she’s walked right past me without even a glance, and those broken pieces shatter. She’s made their relationship public. Just like that, with one small kiss.

“Well, I have to say, I had my suspicions, but now we’ve all just had it confirmed.”

Tania’s fingers grip my forearm a little tighter, and I look down at her dark-red painted nails, and I remember that Megan never used to paint hers. She always kept them in good condition, but they were always short and neat and always clear of any colored varnish. I prefer that, if I’m honest. Megan wears very little make-up because she doesn’t need it, and I’m suddenly feeling a mixture of anger and frustration bubbling up inside of me.

“Did you have any idea?”

I look at Tania, and I will her to remove her hand from my arm now, I know she’s a tactile person but I’m not like her. I don’t always want to be touched for no reason.

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