Page 69 of Toy Boy

“Alright. I will.”

“Good. Oh, and Scott? Don’t overthink things.”

And then she’s gone. And I know she’s humouring me when she talks about Megan and me, she doesn’t believe for one second that Megan would ever take me back. I’m not sure anyone does, although not everyone knows that it’s my intention to win my wife – my ex-wife – back. But those that do, and there aren’t many of them, they don’t believe it’s ever going to happen. And I’m trying so hard not to let their negativity get to me.

I pour myself another coffee and sit down at the breakfast bar, open my diary, and check my schedule for today. Two operations, one major, one routine. Most of the day will be spent in the OR, and I’m more than fine with that. It’s where I feel fully in control, in the operating room. My confidence is building with every surgery I perform, as far as my career is concerned it’s back to business as usual. My private life still needs some work. But the pieces are slowly falling into place, even if the game I’m playing isn’t a certain one.

Megan

The Swan is heaving, because it’s Friday, and it’s always busy on a Friday. And even though it’s only just gone 7pm there isn’t a free table anywhere on the terrace, which is a pain, because I’ve stupidly worn heels in some vain attempt to show Xander I can still scrub up, despite my proximity to impending middle-age, and my feet are already regretting it.

“There you go.”

Xander reappears by my side and hands me a glass of white wine. We’re taking a taxi to Burnham, it’s worth the fare to be able to drink. I’m not sure I can get through one of Laney’s dinners sober.

“You okay?” he asks, frowning slightly, his eyes dropping to my feet.

“Not used to heels, that’s all.”

“So, why did you wear them? You’re only going to your sisters.”

“Yes, but I’m going withyou.”

He looks at me, cocks his head, and flashes me the kind of smile that literally makes my knees go weak. That kind of shit happens, believe me. It’s real.

“You don’t have to dress up for me.”

“I know I don’t.” I take a gulp of wine and lean in for a kiss, which does nothing to help my already weakening knees. “And it wasn’t entirelyforyou, sometimes I need to prove to myself that I can still look this good.”

He laughs, and I relax a little, even if we still have to stand thanks to the lack of free tables.

“You look incredible,” Xander murmurs, his breath warm against my cheek, his hand on my hip, and I really believe that he means that.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Too bad? He looks amazing! His dark-blond hair is swept back off his face, his ice-blue eyes startlingly bright, his skin lightly tanned… he’s beautiful. What in the world did I do to deserve even a couple of weeks with this man?

He laughs again, and reaches out to gently stroke my cheek with his thumb, a small but surprisingly intimate gesture, given that we’re in a very public place. But the cat’s out of the bag now. We’re not a secret anymore. Which still feels a little weird, to be honest. Like we’re on display; everyone watching us, when I know they aren’t. Well, not everyone, anyway.

“We should think about leaving soon.” I wrap my fingers around his wrist and pull his hand away from my face, and I don’t know why. It was an almost instinctive move that I didn’t even realise I was doing until it happened. “We said we’d be there by half eight at the latest.”

“I’ll go call a cab.”

“There’ll be plenty outside the front of the pub, we don’t need to book one.”

“Better to be safe.”

He smiles, kisses me quickly, and heads back inside. I lean back against the wall and sip my wine, glancing around to see how many familiar faces I can spot. It’s Friday evening. There’ll be a few regulars here, old and young. For the former it’s their staple Friday night hang-out, a habit they see no reason to change, and for the latter it’s the first stop before they head into town to frequent the busier bars and clubs there. There isn’t exactly a rampant nightlife scene in Beachcastle Bay.

I take another sip of wine, closing my eyes as the cool liquid trickles down my throat, into my belly, filling me with a welcoming warmth, I can feel myself relaxing by the second. Until I open my eyes. And see him. Scott. Over in the corner talking to… actually, I can’t make out who he’s with because someone’s standing right in front of them, but… he’s with an incredibly pretty red-head. Tania, I think her name is. A colleague of his, I’m vaguely familiar with her. I think she works for the hospital Trust. They look pretty cosy, too. A little too cosy for just work colleagues, if you ask me… Hang on. Is this bothering me…?

It shouldn’t.

But it is, right…?

It is…

I take a gulp of wine, I’m done with the sips, my eyes falling back on Scott and Tania. She’s leaning right into him, her hand on his shoulder, her mouth almost touching his ear as he angles his head a little, probably so he can hear what she’s saying. I watch as his hand slides round onto the small of her back, and I can’t help but notice how striking she is. She’s pretty stunning, actually, with that deep red hair, perfect curls flowing down her bare back, and that makes me more aware of my short, cropped hair, something that, until now, I never gave a second thought to.

I want to tear my eyes away from them, in case either of them catch me staring, the last thing I want him to think is that I’m even vaguely interested in what he’s doing…

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