Page 29 of Double or Nothing

“We’ve had one hell of a backstory, literally,” he says to me. “BT has a backstory made of dreams, in fact. It was an honour to plunge my way in there.”

Jack’s laugh is contagious.

“You crude bastard,” Bryce says. “Stop it!”

Only he can’t hold back a grin.

It’s magical when Mr BT Uptight manages to let out another sigh before he shakes his head and laughs along.

And there we have it.

Once the three of us are laughing together, the tension cracks and falls away. It’s as though a huge weight has been lifted right from my shoulders. I see the Bryce I knew. The way he tips his head as he chuckles. I see the way he slaps Jack’s arm, like he would have once slapped mine for being a cheeky cow, and I love it. I love seeing him.

“I knew you were a bloody liability,” he tells his intimate friend.

“That’s why you like me so much,” Jack says back. “Play uptight all you like, but it’s true.”

“What are you going to do next, hmm?” Bryce asks him. “Announce to the whole place that you plugged me in the backstory last night?”

“I can do, sure.”

Oh my fucking God, the horror in Bryce’s eyes when Jack gets to his feet and picks up his champagne glass. He tugs on Jack’s suit jacket as though his life depends on it, with a sit down, idiot!

Jack lets out another cracker of a laugh as he drops back down between us.

“You actually thought I was going to do it, didn’t you?”

Bryce looks as though he’s narrowly escaped a brush with death.

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

In the blink of an eye, Jack’s demeanour shifts. His smirk disappears and he locks his gaze back on Bryce without so much of a hint of self-consciousness.

“And why does the idea scare you so much?” He gestures around the room, at the bustle of people engaged in conversation, or ordering drinks at the bar. The place is busy, the background noise rife. “Do you really think anyone in here would truly give a toss if I blurted out I was fucking your ass?”

My butterflies ramp up at the way Bryce’s mouth drops open. He doesn’t speak, just lets Jack keep on talking.

“People are always so nervous about what other people are thinking of them, but you know what? People are normally thinking about themselves, in my experience. That’s what the people are interested in here right now. Themselves. The taste of their drinks, what time they are off home later, the people they are chatting with, what gossip went down with friends last week. They’re thinking of their own lives, having their own fun, or masking their own crap that’s chewing them up inside, and even if I did scream it from the rafters that I’m going to be fucking your ass later, they’d likely give a chuckle, a look of shock, or a scowl for three seconds max.” Jack pauses to pour more champagne. “I’m not joking, Bryce. It’s self-absorbed to believe people are so interested in you. They’re far too busy being self-absorbed themselves.”

Something in Jack’s words strikes deep. I look at him, so comfortable and casual in this space. His words are genuine. They give me tingles. Envious.

“Can we test it out?” Jack asks him. “I’m happy to demonstrate.”

“Not by bellowing to the whole bar that you’re fucking my ass, please. No!” Bryce replies.

“Nothing that dramatic,” Jack says. “Just a taster.”

I’m close enough to see Jack’s hand slide up Bryce’s suited knee under the table, and land on his crotch.

“This is bloody crazy,” Bryce says, and he shuffles… but he doesn’t push Jack’s hand away.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” Jack says, and his smirk is back at the fore. “But take a scout around first. Who’s looking? Who’s noticing? Who cares? Nobody.”

Jack might well be right about the people in the bar, but he’s wrong on one thing.

There is someone in this place who’s looking and noticing.

And caring.