way toward the sofa.
Patrizio appeared in the doorway, buttoning up a white shirt to halfway, tucking it into a pair of washed-out blue jeans. His wavy black hair was slicked back and styled to perfection, and his long fingers were adorned with silver rings. He was a beautiful Italian man and as vain as they come, but it stood him in good stead.
“You’re late,” he said pointedly, raising a groomed eyebrow in Jamie’s general direction.
Jamie grimaced and pulled off his wet beanie, scrubbing a hand across his shorn hair. “I know, I know. Busy night at the shop. I feel bad for ditching out, to be honest.”
“So you’d best get ready and have a good night out, then, no? Don’t let it go to waste.” Pat smirked and waved a hand at him. “But not like that. Like that? No pretty boys will want you to take them home.”
Jamie groaned. “No, Pat. Don’t even start on this again. I’m not doing the pickup thing. Nope, no, nada, no way.”
Patrizio shook his head at Jamie as though he were hopeless and came to perch himself on the arm of the sofa. Jamie groaned again. Pep-talk time.
“James. Jamie. You cannot just stop, you know? It’s no good. Yes, it was a bad time and you were hurt, and yes, you might see him. Don’t let the cheating bastard chase you out of your own city.”
The pity in his eyes was grating, but what bugged Jamie more was the fact Pat had him pegged. He was being a coward. A nasty breakup and Jamie had retreated into the shadows, playing hermit and occasional wallflower, working for his parents again, thankful as hell that he hadn’t taken the leap and introduced them all to his cheating wanker of a boss. Even though he’d lived with Steve for a while there, he hadn’t wanted his family to meet him, and Steve had certainly shown no inclination to meet them.
“I—” Jamie began but was saved by the buzzer from down the short hall. Patrizio narrowed his eyes and pointed at Jamie, letting him know the conversation wasn’t over. Joy.
He tried to beat feet to his room, but before he’d made it across the threshold a hand grabbed the back of his coat and halted his forward momentum.
“Excuse me, mister, but where’d you think you’re running off to?”
Jamie turned around and gave Louise a dazzling smile. “Nowhere, Lou, just need to get changed is all. Can’t go out looking like a drowned rat.”
She eyeballed him briefly and seemed to concur. “Okay, babes, but here. I’ll help.”
Louise wouldn’t take no for an answer, so Jamie didn’t even try. He let himself be ushered into his room, sparing a moment to giggle as Patrizio had the door closed firmly in his face by his own girlfriend.
“Bambina!” he wailed mournfully. Louise pulled the door open, planted a quick kiss on Patrizo’s lips to appease him, and shut the door on him again. She turned those knowing eyes on Jamie and flapped her hands at him. “Go on, then.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jamie replied, peeling himself out of his coat and the dark blue jumper and polo combination he’d had on at the shop. He gingerly sniffed the clothes and dumped them into the wash basket. Eau de takeaway definitely wasn’t a scent he wanted to be rocking.
Louise was rummaging in his wardrobe, dismissing his clothes with huffy little sounds and muttered complaints.
“You know, I always used to buy into the idea of gay men being stylish. Asian gay men at that! When Pat told me about you, I thought ‘Fab! My own Gok!’ but Jesus! Look at this!”
She held out a white T-shirt with a sketched depiction of a cartoon character on it.
“No man over… no. Sorry. No man ever should be wearing a cartoon shirt. Not sexy.”
She flung the offending shirt away and grabbed Jamie by the wrist, bringing him closer. “I mean, look. The raw material is hot. But the window dressing…?” She sighed and turned back to his clothes, finally pulling out a plain white T-shirt with a slight V-neck.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Jamie
Patrizio appeared in the doorway, buttoning up a white shirt to halfway, tucking it into a pair of washed-out blue jeans. His wavy black hair was slicked back and styled to perfection, and his long fingers were adorned with silver rings. He was a beautiful Italian man and as vain as they come, but it stood him in good stead.
“You’re late,” he said pointedly, raising a groomed eyebrow in Jamie’s general direction.
Jamie grimaced and pulled off his wet beanie, scrubbing a hand across his shorn hair. “I know, I know. Busy night at the shop. I feel bad for ditching out, to be honest.”
“So you’d best get ready and have a good night out, then, no? Don’t let it go to waste.” Pat smirked and waved a hand at him. “But not like that. Like that? No pretty boys will want you to take them home.”
Jamie groaned. “No, Pat. Don’t even start on this again. I’m not doing the pickup thing. Nope, no, nada, no way.”
Patrizio shook his head at Jamie as though he were hopeless and came to perch himself on the arm of the sofa. Jamie groaned again. Pep-talk time.
“James. Jamie. You cannot just stop, you know? It’s no good. Yes, it was a bad time and you were hurt, and yes, you might see him. Don’t let the cheating bastard chase you out of your own city.”
The pity in his eyes was grating, but what bugged Jamie more was the fact Pat had him pegged. He was being a coward. A nasty breakup and Jamie had retreated into the shadows, playing hermit and occasional wallflower, working for his parents again, thankful as hell that he hadn’t taken the leap and introduced them all to his cheating wanker of a boss. Even though he’d lived with Steve for a while there, he hadn’t wanted his family to meet him, and Steve had certainly shown no inclination to meet them.
“I—” Jamie began but was saved by the buzzer from down the short hall. Patrizio narrowed his eyes and pointed at Jamie, letting him know the conversation wasn’t over. Joy.
He tried to beat feet to his room, but before he’d made it across the threshold a hand grabbed the back of his coat and halted his forward momentum.
“Excuse me, mister, but where’d you think you’re running off to?”
Jamie turned around and gave Louise a dazzling smile. “Nowhere, Lou, just need to get changed is all. Can’t go out looking like a drowned rat.”
She eyeballed him briefly and seemed to concur. “Okay, babes, but here. I’ll help.”
Louise wouldn’t take no for an answer, so Jamie didn’t even try. He let himself be ushered into his room, sparing a moment to giggle as Patrizio had the door closed firmly in his face by his own girlfriend.
“Bambina!” he wailed mournfully. Louise pulled the door open, planted a quick kiss on Patrizo’s lips to appease him, and shut the door on him again. She turned those knowing eyes on Jamie and flapped her hands at him. “Go on, then.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jamie replied, peeling himself out of his coat and the dark blue jumper and polo combination he’d had on at the shop. He gingerly sniffed the clothes and dumped them into the wash basket. Eau de takeaway definitely wasn’t a scent he wanted to be rocking.
Louise was rummaging in his wardrobe, dismissing his clothes with huffy little sounds and muttered complaints.
“You know, I always used to buy into the idea of gay men being stylish. Asian gay men at that! When Pat told me about you, I thought ‘Fab! My own Gok!’ but Jesus! Look at this!”
She held out a white T-shirt with a sketched depiction of a cartoon character on it.
“No man over… no. Sorry. No man ever should be wearing a cartoon shirt. Not sexy.”
She flung the offending shirt away and grabbed Jamie by the wrist, bringing him closer. “I mean, look. The raw material is hot. But the window dressing…?” She sighed and turned back to his clothes, finally pulling out a plain white T-shirt with a slight V-neck.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Jamie
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