Page 77 of Hold On

“What’s wrong?” Dominic asked.

“Any communal singing and we’re out of here. We can eat at a pub.”

Dominic brushed his fingers against Ren’s. “Okay. See you later.” Then he wandered off.

Ren saw him sit next to Katrina, who looked as though she couldn’t believe her luck.He’s mine.The thought shocked him. He’d never thought that about anyone. Never felt jealous.Get a grip!Dominic wasn’t his.

Not yet!said a little voice in his head.Not ever if you don’t get your head out of your arse.

He wasn’t sure what was going on inside his head. But he was blaming Levan. He’d physically recovered—just about—but his head was a mess. He had no problem giving Dominic a blow job, but it was the thought of more that sent him into a spiral. Time was all he needed. At least that was what he kept telling himself. He’d get over what had been done to him. And for all he knew, Dominic had the same mess going on in his head.

Ren wandered around looking and listening. A few people smiled at him but this lot looked legit. No one asked anything odd.

By the time they all had plates of stroganoff, Ren had done a circuit and introduced himself to anyone he hadn’t met. Will caught up with him as they lined up for wine.

“Victor not here?” Ren asked.

“He had other plans. The others who live locally have stayed for the meal. Are things okay with D…Nic? I didn’t mess anything up?”

You nearly did then! “It’s all fine.” Ren bit back the temptation to tell Will to stay out of his business.

When he sat down, Herb dropped into the seat next to him.

“Find more coins?” Ren asked him.

“Unfortunately, not. I understand how gamblers feel now, though. You just want to keep trying for the jackpot.”

“Was it Southampton you’re from?”

“London.”

“Oh yes.” It was what he’d said when they’d met. “Must have been someone else. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an accountant. But…” He leaned into Ren. “…I’m a history nut and into battle reenactments.”

“Roman?”

“Among others. Makes up for a dull day job.” He chuckled. “This food’s good. I wish we ate as well as this when we were on manoeuvres.”

“Is it LARPing or…?”

Herb frowned. “We mostly have battle plans that copy the actual event.”

“What was the last one you did?”

“Not a battle but I walked in theNatale di RomaParade last spring. It was such an honour. We marched from the Circus Maximus and around the Colosseum. There were even gladiator fights. I didn’t do those.” He chuckled and patted his belly, though it looked firm enough to Ren. The guy looked solid.

“When in the spring?”

“Twenty-first of April is the main day but there are events either side.”

“Sounds fun.”

By the time Ren had listened to Herb tell him about each spectacle he’d been to, he’d decided the guy was no problem. Well, okay,possiblyno problem. A bit of effort on Wikipedia would have enabled Ren to spout the same detail, but Herb’s enthusiasm seemed genuine.

Ren had the chance to talk to a couple of others when he helped to wash up. A guy called Bill and a dark-haired woman called Irma who had beautiful almond-shaped eyes and an Eastern European accent.

“Turkish?” Ren asked.

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