Page 21 of Forgiven

6Dylan

“Fuck,” Dylan muttered, when he got back to the table and realised Callum had gone.

Really gone. Exited the building gone.

“Where’s Callum?” Kyrone asked.

“He left.”

“What did you do?”

Dylan scowled, but it wasn’t as if he could claim he was completely innocent. Callum had done a runner because he’d pushed too far with his teasing and observations.

“Nothing,” he said in his most put out voice. “I was on the dance floor. Maybe he just got bored of watching everyone’s drinks.”

Kyrone’s lips twitched guiltily. “Yeah, good point.”

“I’m going to head off, too,” Dylan declared.

Kyrone glanced at his watch. “It’s not even midnight yet. I don’t think you’ve ever left before closing, unless you’ve got a guy on your arm.”

Dylan shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything. I’m not really feeling it tonight. The atmosphere’s shit and there’s no one worth dancing with, let alone pulling.”

Kyrone regarded him thoughtfully. “You mean aside from Callum? Are you sure you didn’t scare him away?”

Dylan gasped. “No! I was—”

“Dancing. Yeah, yeah. You were also the last person to talk to him.”

Dylan folded his arms. “You just want to blame me, so you don’t feel guilty for fucking off onto the dance floor and leaving him. You can’t shift the blame onto me.”

Which was exactly what Dylan was doing, but in reverse. He felt bad about it, but Kyrone and Jaredhadgone off dancing, despite knowing the guythey’dinvited to the Vibe didn’t like to dance. They were at least partially at fault. He sighed. No, they weren’t. It was all on him. Callum was gorgeous and he was probably confused as hell right now. For half a second, he debated asking if Kyrone or Jared had Callum’s number, then he realised he was the last person Tattoo Boy was going to want to speak to.

“Say bye to the guys for me,” he muttered.

He left via the cloakroom. There weren’t any taxis waiting at the rank outside. It was annoying, but he should have expected it. Who left a nightclub before midnight?

“Hey.”

Dylan swung round and almost bashed into Hunter. He was glad he hadn’t, because that would have hurt him a lot more than the burly dancer.

“You left,” Hunter said.

“No shit.” Dylan zipped his gold jacket up. “But you didn’t need to.”

Hunter shrugged. “I got my hand stamped on the way out. I can go back in if I want.”

Typical Hunter, making contingency plans.

“I was worried about you.”

Dylan raised his eyebrows. “Because I left the club early?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t a guy leave early without it being a drama?”

“Yes. If there is no drama, I’ll go back to the club.” Hunter tilted his head to the side, obviously waiting for a few beats. “But if thereissomething wrong, let’s go and find somewhere to sit and talk.”