Chapter 9

Istood watching Simon’s very fine form as he worked the bag. He was godlike in his appearance. Muscles rippling, sweat dripping, wearing barely a stitch of clothing. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“Is that the guy from the other night?” Marc asked.

Since moving back to Liverpool, Marc and I had been regular gym buddies. Ziggy hated it, so Marc was more than happy when he found out I loved the gym. Not as much as he did, but I joined him once or twice a week, when time allowed.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, transfixed.

“You’ll trip over your tongue if you’re not careful,” he said, nudging me lightly. “Come on, you’re supposed to be spotting me, not drooling over Mr Fantastic over there.”

He was fantastic. There was no denying it. A lot of others seemed to think so too. Men and women alike stopped and stared at the force of nature that was Simon Fletcher.

I refused to call him by his porn name. That was for a different time of day, one where I felt horny as hell. Usually nighttime, when I’d take my cock out, setting a punishing pace, wishing I was the man beneath him or, better still, the one handing him his arse.

I turned to face Marc, tutting at the smirk he wore. “He’s not that special.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’ve not taken your eyes off him since he walked in.”

“I know. I was just admiring his form.”

“Amongst other things.” He nudged me again, a little harder this time. “You can drool on your own time. Spot me.”

I tore my eyes away from Simon, only glancing momentarily to make sure he was still there.

Marc finished his reps and came to stand next to me.

“He’s not bad, I suppose.”

It was my turn to look at him. “Not bad? Not bad?”

“I mean, his form needs some improvement. Maybe I should go have a word.”

“Noooo,” I said, a little too loudly, hoping Simon hadn’t heard.

Clearly in the zone, Simon continued, his muscles straining with the effort.

I stood and stared, salivating at the sight.

I didn’t know many people here, mainly sticking to Marc for my company, but when I spotted a guy I knew to be gay strolling towards Simon, I made my move, arriving just as Simon finished.

After handing him his towel and bottle, he glared at me.

Did he still hate me?

Funny how this year, I’d seen Simon more than I had in the past fifteen years. Was the universe trying to tell me something? Was she pushing us together?

All that voodoo stuff, ghosts and spirits, fated mates and all that crap, I was not a believer.

But this was ridiculous.

My witty comeback had obviously floored Simon, as he’d said nothing since. He’d gulped from the bottle, his eyes never leaving mine. His pupils were wide, the brilliant blue barely visible.

I fidgeted under his scrutiny, not used to such an inspection. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but the urge to either run or approach him warred inside.

“Lost for words?” he asked, finally catching his breath. Mirth danced in his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Just amazed you lasted so long.”

His eyes flashed, and the smirk he wore dropped slightly.

What was that about?

“Nothing wrong with my staying power.” He wiped his neck with the towel, his muscles flexing.

“I’ve seen better,” I countered.

“Yeah? I bet you wouldn’t last five minutes. You’re not exactly built.”

“Not always about how big you are, but how you use it, I’ve always found,” I said cockily.

Tension crackled between us, spanning the few inches that separated us.

How had we got so close? I hadn’t moved…had I? But there was no mistaking we were closer than before.

I could see the flecks of navy in his eyes, the clear beads of sweat still dripping down his face, smell a faint trace of coffee on his breath.

“You two need to get a room.” Marc’s voice broke the silence. “Either fight or fuck.”

“What?” I asked, backing away. “Fuck him? Not likely.”

“Like I’d let you,” Simon replied. “I’d rather shut it in a gate than let you anywhere near me.”

Slightly put out by his last comment, I turned to leave.

“I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on earth,” I threw at him.

What were we doing arguing like school children?

“Again, like I’d let you,” he yelled as I retreated to the changing rooms.

“Aren’t you going to finish your workout?” Marc jogged to catch up with me.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“He really got under your skin. When Ziggy told me, I didn’t believe it. You really want to fuck him, and unless I’m very much mistaken, he’d enjoy it if you did.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him, not believing what he was saying.

“How can you say that? He hates me for what I did.”

“Hate…love. It’s a very fine line, and one I think the pair of you would cross.”

He was talking through his arse. Although I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt towards Simon. The brief kisses we’d shared. That night outside the bar when I would have gladly dropped to my knees to please him.

“It’s ridiculous. I have a client soon. I’d best get going.”

I usually showered at the gym, but I didn’t want to run into Simon again and grabbed my bag out of my locker.

“Tell Ziggy I’ll call him.”

But fucking fate had other ideas as the door opened and I ran into Simon’s hard body.

Could my life get any worse?

“Get out of my way.”

I shook my head. Arrogance dripped from his voice.

“I don’t think so.”

I stumbled as he shoved me, almost falling on my backside.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He was seriously pushing every damn button I had. At least I didn’t have to contain myself this time around.

“The guy that’ll knock you on your ass,” he said, sneering.

“You tried that last time.”

“And I succeeded. It was you that ran, not me.” He puffed out his chest, posturing.

“Name a time and place.”

“No, I won’t. You’re not worth my time.” He had some fucking nerve.

“Now, guys.” Marc approached, hands out in front. “Calm down. Let’s not fight.”

“He can’t fight. He runs every time like a fucking coward,” Simon said.

That was it. The last fucking straw.

I dropped my bag to the floor and swung for him, my fist connecting satisfyingly with his jaw.

Marc stepped between us, his muscular arms holding us apart.

“Enough. Both of you.” He glared at us. Usually the calm one, he was pissed. “Duke, pick up your bag and get out of here.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Pick up the bag and leave. I’ll deal with you later.”

I picked up my bag, muttering under my breath at the unfairness of it all. Simon should have been laid out on the floor, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

That was until Marc turned to him.

“As for you, I don’t want to see you anywhere near Duke again. Do you understand me? You see him in here, you walk the other way. Get it?”

“You can’t stop me.”

“No, you’re right, I can’t, but I know plenty of people who will help me if you try anything again. Understand?”

“I pay good money to use this gym.”

“We all do, and I’m not stopping you from coming here. What I am suggesting is that you turn the other cheek, walk away, be the bigger man, if you like.”

“That’s not difficult.”

Marc raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue. Simon took the hint and walked away, and I watched every step, noting the slight sway of his hips.

“I thought you’d gone,” Marc said, almost bumping into me. “Jesus, Duke. You’re drooling again. Fight him or fuck him, but get him out of your system.”

Usually, I’d fight my own battles. Hell, I’d done that enough on the streets, but where this guy was concerned, all rationality flew out of the window.

He irritated me in a way no one had ever done before, and I found it incredibly difficult to contain my temper…or my lust.

“He’s a fucking wanker,” I said angrily as we walked out of the gym. I’d just about have enough time to get home, shower and meet my client at the building I shared with a friend. She bore the brunt of the cost, but then she had the biggest clientele, offering many beauty treatments as well as massages.

“How do you know him again? Ziggy mentioned he was the brother of an old friend.”

I didn’t have time to go into much detail. “Yeah, I knew him before I moved away from home. Robbie, his brother, was my best friend. Simon blames me for his brother’s accident and has hated me ever since.”

“As I said before, love or hate, both are strong emotions. Both can morph into the other. Love becomes hate. Hate becomes love. How long since you saw him last?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing. Robbie’s accident was fifteen years ago, and I’ve not seen either of them since then. This year? I’ve seen Simon at least half a dozen times.”

“But you’ve not seen Robbie.”

I shook my head. “I can’t face him.”

“Why not?”

“I almost killed him. He fell off that roof because of me.”

“Did you push him?”

I shook my head again, lost in the memory of that night. The sickening thud as he’d hit the ground that had never left me. “I dared him to do it.”

“But you didn’t make him.”

“I didn’t make him do it,” I repeated his words.

“Then what’s stopping you from reaching out?”

“He might hate me as much as Simon does.” Could I cope with that? By not seeing Robbie, I could live in denial, thinking that we were still friends after all this time.

I knew Simon and I would never be the same as before. I suppose I knew deep down that Robbie and I wouldn’t be either.

“You might be surprised.”

Simon had said that Robbie had tried to contact me. Perhaps it was time to put the past behind me. I’d already started to try and rebuild my relationship with my parents. Robbie could be the next step.

“You could be right.”

“I usually am. Just ask Ziggy. I’d best get going. He’s expecting me home. It’s date night tonight. He says he has something special planned.”

“Oh, that could be anything, knowing him.”

“I know. The last time he said that we ended up visiting a place to make ceramics. They were not impressed at his clay dildo.” Marc closed his eyes as if remembering the event.

I just laughed. Ziggy was a great friend and didn’t care one bit about what people thought about him. Not now, anyway.

He was a force of nature, but where Marc was concerned, he could be a complete pushover, loving him almost as much as he loved his dog, Honey.

“Well, this is me.” My apartment was a short walk from the gym, but I’d need to get a bus into the city for work. Driving in Liverpool was not a favourite pastime. I missed the countryside and its quiet, winding lanes, where the only traffic jam you’d see was sheep crossing the road.

Marc nodded and continued on his way, breaking into a quick jog. I watched him as he disappeared into the distance. Ziggy was one lucky bastard and had fallen on his feet where Marc was concerned. We were all similar in height, Marc having a couple of inches on us both, but he was built like a brick shit house, looking menacing with his tattoos and piercings.

Yet he was the softest, most considerate person I’d ever met.

He wasn’t at all like me, or Simon.

Simon was a dick.

I arrived at the salon in good time. Lottie was talking with her client while she did her nails.

“Here he is.” She smiled brightly.

I loved Lottie. We’d met several years earlier on the streets, both of us wanting a way out. Attending the same college, Lottie and I had become good friends and had kept in touch. When she’d opened this place, I was the first person she’d called.

At the time, I’d been working abroad for an exclusive client, until he’d accused me of having an affair with his wife. I hadn’t been, but the chauffeur had. After that, I’d procured the place at the spa where I’d met Simon.

Lottie wasn’t my boss. I’d vowed not to work for anyone again, but she was able to offer me a space here. I came and went as I pleased, and as long as my rent was paid on time, she was happy.

I gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and winked at her client, a middle-aged woman I’d seen here before.

“Glynis here was telling me about her next holiday. She’s heading off to the Seychelles for a few weeks. Ever been to the Seychelles, Duke?”

“Can’t say I have, but I hear it’s beautiful out there. Don’t forget to take some pictures and make Lottie here jealous.”

“Hey, don’t you have something you should be doing,” Lottie said, batting me away.

“I have a client due any minute, but I’ll grab a coffee first. Can I get you ladies anything?”

Both declined, and I made my way into the small kitchen at the back of the building. I set the coffee maker and scrolled aimlessly through my phone while I waited.

Nothing grabbed my attention, not today nor in the past few days. I was about to bring up a certain porn site and watch a certain someone when my phone rang before I could even open up the browser.

It was a number I didn’t recognise, and also international. Tempted as I was to ignore the call, something told me to answer it.

“Hello. This is Duke.”

“Darling Duke. This is Barbara. I’m so glad I got hold of you. I have a proposition for you.”

I closed my eyes and clutched the phone to my chest.

What in God’s name could she want?