Chapter 1

Clothes were strewn around Scott Fitzgerald's bedroom, his personal domain that took up most of the attic above the flat he shared with Tyler Jones and Eddie Channing. Unfortunately, that meant he had the space to get the contents of his wardrobe out for inspection whenever he had an outfit crisis. This seemed to happen with great regularity.

He had a date and wanted to look perfect. After much deliberation, he opted for white trousers with a pink polo shirt. Summer was on the way out but Scott had a decent tan and wanted to show it off.

He checked himself in the full-length mirror. Not bad. Having inherited his father's piercing blue eyes and light brown hair, Scott was confident without being too cocky about his appearance.

His flatmate Eddie might disagree on that last bit.

He bounded down the stairs and into the lounge.

"Oh, hello," Eddie replied. "You've finally appeared."

He sat on the sofa with his new boyfriend, Billy Webster. As usual they were draped across each other. Ever since they had got together, Billy had been a semi-permanent fixture in the flat. He had his own place down at the marina but they all got on so well he preferred to be there.

"Good afternoon, love's young dream," Scott said.

"Aren't you meeting this guy at four?" Eddie replied.

"Yes, I'm aware of the logistics of the day, Edward," Scott muttered, scanning the room. "Have you seen my Converse?"

"Which ones?" Eddie asked.

Scott's addiction to Converse trainers was legendary. He had pairs in every colour and style.

"Pink," Scott barked.

"Here," Billy said.

He reached down the side of the sofa and produced the trainers in question.

"How did you spot them?" Scott asked.

"Years of raising a teenage girl, I guess."

Four years ago, Billy had taken on custody of his half-sister, Crystal. She'd recently gone to live in Manchester, but it appeared Billy hadn't lost the knack.

Scott sat on the chair to put his precious trainers on. The door opened and Scott's other flatmate, Tyler, came in, followed by his boyfriend, Danny Healy.

"Phew," Tyler said, wafting his hand in front of him. "Did someone smash a bottle of floor cleaner?"

"That's Acqua di Parma,thank you," Scott replied. "Bloody heathen."

Danny and Tyler squeezed onto the sofa with the other two. They made for a handsome sight. Yet a nagging feeling inside Scott had been growing in recent weeks.

Am I going to be single Scott forever?

"Ugh. What is this I see before me?" he said, holding up his hands. "A monogamous firing squad? I surrender."

"Now, now," Tyler replied. "This could be the one. Who is it tonight?"

"The doctor." Scott sighed.

Tyler frowned. "What happened to the accountant?"

"Too dull," Scott replied. "He spent thirty-eight minutes telling me about his recycling bins. I kid you not. I timed him."

"Hang on," Danny said. "I thought you were all about the social worker? He was a dead cert, you said."

"Try to keep up," Eddie replied. "He ate with his mouth open."

"And picked his ear at the table," Tyler added.

Ever since Scott had vowed to find someone serious about settling down, he'd taken on the mission with gusto. Perhaps a little too much. When he applied himself to something, he went the whole way.

"Can you stop?" he said. "You're making me nervous. What are you four doing this fine evening?"

"Tyler's cooking," Eddie replied.

"Aww. A double date. Cute." Scott pretended to gag.

At the beginning of the summer, he'd been the only person who'd actually wanted a relationship. Then Tyler had arrived in town and immediately fallen into bed and subsequently in love with Danny. Next, Eddie, who'd sworn off entanglements, had become hopelessly devoted to Billy.

It had left Scott very much on the periphery. Not that anyone made him feel like that. He did that perfectly well by himself.

Scott finished lacing his trainers and stood up.

"I'd better get a jacket," he said. "It's getting cooler. I don't want to catch a cold and have to find out his bedside manner too soon."

"Does he live in Brighton?" Danny asked.

Scott stopped at the doorway. "He's only just moved here from Glasgow."

"Fresh meat," Eddie said, rubbing his hands together. "Are you waiting on the edge of town for new arrivals these days?"

"There are only so many men in Brighton," Tyler added.

Scott narrowed his eyes. "You two are very holier than thou. Do I need to embarrass you in front of your lovers?"

"Please no," Tyler pleaded, sarcastically. "Hey, this guy might need new furniture."

"If he does and it gets to a second date, I promise I'll bring him to your shop, Danny."

When Tyler and Danny had got together, Danny had hated his job in the warehouse at Pleasure Seekers, the online adult superstore Tyler, Eddie and Scott also worked for. He'd left to take on a vintage furniture shop from his friend. A move that had been the making of him.

Danny held his hands up. "Don't drag me into it."

"Danny, I meant to say," Billy said. "I want to push refurbished items for our new project. We're converting an old department store into flats. Maybe we could talk."

In a reversal of fortune, Billy had recently sold his family business, a souvenir shop down by the sea front. Now he worked for an architect practice in the centre of town and was thriving now he'd been released from the responsibility of a failing business.

"Definitely," Danny replied. "Look at me doing deals out of hours."

Tyler squeezed his leg. The pride emanating from him was palpable. It caught in Scott's throat for a second. Scott wished his friends all the luck in the world. They were head over heels in love. Even so, that tiny pang of jealously still reverberated within him.

"Right, I'm going. Wish me luck."

He left the flat to shouts of encouragement. When he got out onto the street, he sighed.

Here we go again.

By the time Scott got off the bus, he had found the spring in his step. Town was busy with drinkers spilling out onto the pavement, some to smoke and others to enjoy the late summer evening. For nightlife, Brighton was unrivalled. Drinkers of all persuasions rubbed shoulders, creating a melting pot of revelry.

He made his way past the Pavilion. Even after years of living in the town, he'd never quite got used to it. Once the royal residence of King George IV, the building appeared as if it had been transported from India. Its domes and minarets commanded attention compared to the dull square buildings that surrounded it.

Scott wholeheartedly agreed with that approach. Most of his outfits when out on the town did that also. Not today, apparently. He felt very subdued in comparison to his usual sartorial choices.

When he got to the bar they had agreed to meet in, he checked his appearance in the window. Not too shabby. Or sweaty.

Although it added to the stress, he always took a mental snapshot of the moment before a date.

Is this the moment things change? Right now?

Inside, the bar was fairly busy. A couple of early party casualties were swaying around on the dancefloor vaguely in time to the house music that blared out. Scott took in the whole room, searching for tonight's lucky man. In the corner, he saw a figure sitting at a table, alone.

That had to be him.

Fuck, he's gorgeous.

Scott took a deep breath, raised his chin and walked over to his date. About halfway, he caught his eye. Scott smiled shyly.

By the time he reached the table, perspiration beaded on his forehead. Had this guy chosen to sit the farthest from the door just to watch Scott come over?

He stood.

"Scott? Wow, I thought you'd be thinner."

With a calmness he never knew he possessed, Scott picked up the half-drunk pint of lager from the table and tipped it over the head of his date, who let out a cry that demanded everyone's attention. Without saying a word, Scott spun on his heels and walked out of the bar.

As soon as he got round the corner, he dove up an alley and leant against the wall. What the fuck had happened?

As soon as he got back to the flat, Scott raced upstairs. He sat down on the end of his bed and put his head in his hands. It had been a battle of epic proportions not to burst into tears in the taxi. Now he was in the safety of his room, he couldn't summon them. His anxiety needed that release but they wouldn't come.

How many more shitty dates did he have to go on? Things were getting worse instead of better.

Just as he was about to bury his face in the pillow and scream, he heard a timid knock on his door.

"Come in," he shouted.

The door opened to reveal Eddie in the doorway. "Didn't go well, huh?"

Scott shook his head.

"What kind of situation is this?" Eddie asked, venturing into the room. "A prosecco one? Or a gin?"

"Only a prosecco one," Scott replied. "He's not worth a gin hangover."

Eddie sat down on the end of the bed.

"Shit," he said. "Scott Fitzgerald is making sensible decisions. Call the newspapers."

"Funny guy."

They sat for a second. Eddie was probably one of the only people in the world that Scott allowed himself to be this still with. His mother always said if there was silence, Scott's mission was to fill it. Not that she had much room to talk.

"Come on then," Eddie said, eventually. "What happened?"

"He said he thought I'd be thinner."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't make me say it again."

Eddie took hold of his hand. "That is fucking bullshit. What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"I just dumped his pint over his head and walked out."

Eddie flung his arm around Scott and pulled him close. "And that is why I love you. It hurts though, huh?"

Miserably, Scott nodded.

"You're not even that fat," Eddie said.

Scott wriggled out of his clutches and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm vulnerable."

"You have a frigging six-pack. He's a piece of shit."

Scott lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "I think I'm a lost cause," he said.

Eddie flopped backwards so they were side by side. "Don't be so ridiculous. You're a catch."

"Ha! I don't think so. I run my mouth at every opportunity. Do you know, I even annoy myself sometimes?"

"No."

"Fuck off. I'm being serious."

Eddie shifted onto his side so he faced Scott.

"You will find someone, Scott. I have no doubts at all on that score. Have you ever considered someone worth dating instead of going out with anyone who asks?"

"They're always worth dating, Eddie. Lecturers, accountants, even a bloody chiropodist."

Eddie rested his hand on Scott's arm. "You dumped the chiropodist, remember."

He was right. That had been a truly horrific experience.

"Yeah well. His interest in feet went way past the professional."

Scott didn't judge what anyone got up to in the bedroom. But the chiropodist had wanted to watch Scott sink his toes into ice cream while he masturbated.

No thanks.

"What I'm trying to say is it's not all them rejecting you," Eddie said. "You're a good-looking man with decent prospects. You can afford to be a little choosy. Anyway, when I said find someone who's worth dating, I didn't mean money."

"So what do you mean?" Scott asked.

"When I first fell for Billy, he was on the bones of his arse, remember. Plus, he had a teenage sister to care for. Things have completely changed in only a few weeks."

He had a point. Scott spent too long thinking five years ahead and missed glaring red flags staring him in the face.

"Maybe you're right. Perhaps good jobs mean bad attitudes?"

"That's not exactly what I meant," Eddie replied. "Have you considered you might be overthinking it all? You have this ideal man in your head. They don't come like that."

Scott groaned. "You're the expert now, are you?"

Eddie snuggled into him. "Of course I am. I'm in love."

Scott wriggled free. "Gross. Now scoot. I'm going to get changed into my comfies then I'm watching Spice World."

"Not again. Are you sure you don't want to come downstairs? We haven't eaten yet."

Scott shook his head. "I'm not in the mood to put on a show."

"You don't have to. It's only us."

"Even so. I'll lick my wounds for a bit. I might join you later. Don't eat everything."

Eddie got up and closed the door behind him. As soon as Scott heard Eddie's feet on the stairs, he let out a sigh.

He would rally. He always did.