In The Spotlight Read online

  If Dan was breaking apart … what did that say about him?

  No. This was temporary thing. Dan would bounce back; he always did. They’d be laughing tomorrow. Right now it looked as though Dan would never laugh again.

  ‘Come on, let’s see who can pick up the fastest.’ It had been a few weeks and he was looking for some action. Dan had already ruled out all gay bars, which was a first. Usually he didn’t give a damn.

  ‘That would be you.’ Dan sipped his beer and pointed.

  ‘In a straight nightclub, I don’t know.’ That was always more tricky. He much preferred to meet someone in the wild than via some hook-up service. He liked the thrill of the chase and the buzz of attraction. Half the fun was anticipation.

  ‘I’m just here to get out of the house.’

  ‘Nah, come on. Back in the saddle.’ He elbowed Dan. ‘Unless you want to change saddles.’

  Not even a flicker of a smile.

  Jesus. Ripley shivered and got up. ‘Come on, there is a whole nightclub full of people waiting for us.’

  ‘There may not be room for your ego.’

  Ripley laughed, but it was a little forced. He hauled Dan up. ‘I’ll make it fit.’

  Dan gave a dark chuckle. ‘Do you tell all your lovers that?’

  That was more like it. ‘Let’s go and raise some hell.’

  The nightclub was surprisingly full for a Tuesday. Good music too—he knew it was good dance music from the face Dan pulled when they walked in. Ripley scanned the ground floor while Dan went to the bar.

  Another, already?

  ‘You can’t dance with a drink in your hand.’

  ‘I can’t dance.’ But Dan knocked back the drink and shook it off.

  ‘Sure you can.’ It was a club, there was less dancing and way more grinding. He was the resident expert.

  Dan followed like a sullen cloud intent on putting a dampener on the night. This was supposed to be a good night out. One of his few nights off. If he’d known that Dan was going to be like this he’d have spent the evening with his parents. On the other hand, it was clear Dan needed a friend. Trouble was Ripley wasn’t very good at being that friend. He’d never really had to be. It was like they’d switched sides somehow.

  ‘Okay. Let’s have a shot and then we’ll find a group of pretty girls to hang with while I look out for pretty boys.’ But not too pretty, he totally couldn’t be bothered with anyone who was high maintenance—even for one night.

  Two shots later and Dan was starting to come around. He shouldn’t be encouraging him to drink when he was going to lose his licence. Dan, however, hadn’t driven tonight, so it was all good.

  At first Ripley didn’t care who he danced with. He never did. He was happy to lap up the attention. If a girl wanted more he handed them on to Dan, who looked like the kind of guy chicks pinned to their bedroom door. Ripley had pinned dancers to his. Male dancers, all fit and flexed.

  With Dan now liquored-up and finding his feet with a girl or two in a short skirt, Ripley started to check out the other talent on offer. Other guys who were also perusing the floor, but not for women.

  ***

  Pierce had known the moment he’d seen the man that nothing was going to happen. He’d lied about his age by about ten years and his hands were a bit too rough, his grip too firm. Maybe he was paranoid, but this guy didn’t seem like a bottom and Pierce didn’t want to find out if he’d lied about that too.

  So he’d said he had to get back to his friends and slunk into the first nightclub he came to. There had to be a better way. Maybe if he wasn’t so worried about getting found out it would be easier.

  He rubbed his hand over his face and ordered a bourbon and dry. One drink and he was driving home, alone. He stared at his hand and gave it a silent apology, then he moved away from the bar so he could watch the people dancing. No harm in looking.

  His gaze kept snagging on a couple of dark-haired guys. There were girls around them and yet there was something … the taller one seemed to light up the room and he could dance. The other one … no, he seemed to be into women. The taller one danced with them but his touch was kind of impersonal.

  Pierce sipped his drink. If he had bigger balls, he’d walk over and test the water.

  He was dying on the inside just thinking about it. His face burned as though a flashing sign had gone on over his head.

  One more drink … so he could keep watching that man. He had a confidence that drew people. Bet he never went home alone.

  The less interesting man broke away and came over. For a moment Pierce thought he’d been caught out, but the guy just wanted another drink and a shot to chase it with. While the friend was busy drinking, Pierce knew he should move, wander over and dance; nothing obvious. His feet were glued to the floor sticky with spilled alcohol and who knew what else.

  The opportunity went by.

  Why was it so hard to go after what he wanted?

  He’d watched friends walk into a club and pick up or be shot down, and either way they didn’t care. It was all part of a game to them. He’d never been that casual, even when dating women.

  He shook his head and stared at his drink. It was no wonder the one-night stands he had were leaving him wanting more. Maybe he wasn’t entitled to more. He should just go home. He glanced up.

  Oh God … the tall guy was walking over.

  Pierce turned around, finished his drink and ordered another one. He was well aware of the man moving to stand next to him.

  The man ordered water.

  They both waited. He could open his mouth and say something. Comment on his moves … no, that would be too gay. The weather. Anything. His brain flatlined.

  Up close the man was pretty, his lips turned up in a permanent smile, his hair fashionable rather than navy serviceable. He glanced at Pierce. It was too dark to see the colour of his eyes.

  ‘Here alone?’ There was hint of an accent. His lips curved a little further.

  ‘Yeah.’ Now he sounded like a loser. ‘Just needed to get…’ he almost said off board. “Go out and have some fun.” Which had fallen through. Sitting at the bar wasn’t fun.

  ‘Yeah. You want to join.’ He hooked his thumb to the dance floor.

  Pierce’s mouth dried. Was he being picked up or was this guy just being nice? He didn’t know. ‘Um … I don’t want to intrude.’ You idiot, all you had to do was say yes.

  ‘Plenty of floor for everyone … plus I saw you watching.’ He winked and started moving away.

  Pierce hesitated for a couple of heartbeats. It was only a dance. Nothing more. He could not dance the way that guy did. Go and enjoy it …

  He wasn’t sure he knew how, it wasn’t as though he’d ever really dated guys. They met and had sex, that was all. And he was tired of that. This was a chance to dance and have fun. Maybe make new friends who weren’t in the navy.

  That sounded really good.

  He downed the rest of his drink and made his way to the dance floor. His heart was hammering in time with the rapid beat of the music, his palms were sweating. He was not cool like either of those two. The one grinding against a girl was almost a little too cool, and quite clearly drunk—he’d been out with his navy friends to recognise someone on the start of a bender early.

  The taller one smiled at him; his moves were fluid and graceful. He had his hand on the hip of one woman but beckoned Pierce closer with the other.

  He leaned in close enough that Pierce could feel his breath on his cheek. The heat slithered beneath his clothes. ‘Ripley. That’s Dan.’

  ‘Pierce.’ Even if he went home alone, he had someone to think about.

  ‘Glad you could join us.’

  Ripley smiled, and Pierce knew in that heartbeat what it was like to fall for someone in an instant. He should run and put as much distance between them as possible.

  Chapter 3

  Ripley kept his gaze on the sandy-haired man who was giving dancing a good stab. He’d seen him watching and had decid
ed it was worth a chance. He loved it when chances started paying off so fast.

  A good-looking man to dance with was always promising. Since Pierce had ventured over to join them, it was time to reel him in a little further.

  ‘So what do you do?’

  Pierce glanced away and shook his head. ‘Sailor.’

  Ah … Pierce was getting away from the base to pick up. Assuming he was here to pick up. But it was Tuesday night and he’d come alone. Ripley grasped one of Pierce’s hands and ran his fingertips over the palm, looking for calluses and a reason to touch him. There were a few. ‘A man who works with his hands.’

  ‘Diesel mechanic.’

  Ripley opened his mouth.

  ‘If you make any joke about seamen I’m leaving.’ There was a rather stern look on Pierce’s face. Ripley shut his mouth. He had been about to go down that very path.

  ‘I was going to say I like a man in uniform.’ Which wasn’t a total lie, however he preferred them out of uniform.

  ‘Heard that one too.’

  Ripley considered the sailor. He was not making this easy. That was a shot of lust delivered intravenously. Was he gay, straight, curious or somewhere in between? He held his gaze and moved a fraction closer—not close enough to send him running.

  While Ripley liked the thrill of the chase, he wasn’t into actual chasing.

  ‘Have you heard the one about the ballet dancer?’

  Pierce frowned. ‘No.’

  ‘Damn, I was hoping you’d throw a pick-up line at me.’ Ripley smiled and laughed and waited to see if Pierce would take the bait or decide this wasn’t what he was after.

  The sailor was quite possibly the best thing Ripley had seen in weeks.

  Skinny jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He wasn’t flashy. And the way he wasn’t quite sure of what he was doing was so very cute. It reminded Ripley of what he’d been like … eight years ago.

  How old was Pierce?

  Not older, that was for sure. Over eighteen to be in the club. Old enough to have gained muscle instead of being all angles, although Ripley wanted to run his hand over the man to be sure. He wanted to feel him up and get felt up.

  ‘Ballet dancer?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Ripley did a pirouette to show off. He spun, and didn’t see Dan. He’d lost him. Shit. He’d been so busy trying to pick up he hadn’t been paying attention.

  Pierce smiled. ‘That’s a bit of a cliché, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not as much as you’d think.’ Where the hell had Dan got too? ‘You seen my mate?’

  Pierce’s smile faded. ‘At the bar?’

  Ripley lifted onto his toes. He was tall anyway. He looked over the crowd and saw Dan heading upstairs with a woman. He glanced at Pierce. There was no way that Pierce was going to stick around if he took off. But he couldn’t let Dan do something that was dumber than getting done for DUI.

  Pierce’s gaze followed. ‘You got something going on?’

  ‘Not like that, wait, are we …?’ He was going to kill Dan because now this was going from a fun tease to getting down to business far faster than he liked to move. Pierce was going to run. He knew it.

  ‘Maybe … I’m going to get a drink. You sort out your friend. He was having a chaser with every drink.’

  Ripley groaned. He hadn’t known that. ‘Cheers. I will find you at the bar. Yeah?’ He gave Pierce a grin that was filled with promises, then took off after Dan.

  One picked up in nightclubs. One didn’t have sex in them. Particularly if one was a public figure of any kind. Dan was too drunk to remember how to be smart. Ripley shoved down the rising panic. This wasn’t like Dan at all. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Seeing his friend up against the wall with the woman on her knees stopped Ripley in his tracks. For a split second he imagined Pierce doing much the same to him. But not here. Some things were private.

  For the first time in his life, Ripley had to go and be the rescuer. He’d been rescued enough times he should know how to do this.

  Dan was looking a little too pale and was most definitely not that into her. It took very little effort to send her on her way. Dan headed straight for the bathroom. It wasn’t to wash, judging by the way green had started colouring his face.

  Ripley ran his hand through his hair and leaned over the railing. He couldn’t see the bar and had no idea if Pierce was still down there. ‘Damn it.’

  He was cutting Dan’s private time short.

  ***

  Pierce sipped his water. He needed to be able to drive home if he was leaving. It was still on the cards. He wanted to stay and see what was going to happen. He wanted something to happen. Just thinking about doing anything with Ripley made his palms sweat and his heart beat faster than the music.

  Lust at first sight. It was the smile, and the way he looked right at him when talking. Fuck. This was a bad idea. It was one thing to arrange a hook-up, but another to be hard with lust from a single wink.

  Getting with Ripley would be trouble.

  The right kind of trouble. There was something there. Why did he have to chase down his mate? But Pierce knew why and he’d been the one looking out for a pisshead sailor before, and had been the one being watched. That Ripley gave a damn and took off only made it worse. It meant he was a good guy who looked after his mates. Pierce finished his drink and got up.

  It had been over ten minutes and Ripley hadn’t come back. Maybe chasing after his friend was his way of escaping. It was a little more dramatic than a staged phone call though.

  Pierce moved a little closer to the door. He wasn’t leaving, not yet …

  A hand landed on his lower back, then touched his arm. He turned, hoping it was Ripley but not sure.

  ‘You weren’t leaving? I’m coming back once I pour Dan into a cab.’ Ripley’s hand was still on Pierce’s forearm.

  A shiver of longing ran through him. He’d come into Perth to get laid, and he really wanted this man. Another few minutes of waiting wouldn’t kill him.

  Yes it would.

  ‘No worries.’ Pierce smiled. Dan was obviously well and truly done for the night. He was more than a little glad Dan was going home. Pierce indicated to the bar and walked away.

  He could leave while Ripley was busy. He’d never met a ballet dancer before. Not that he usually asked what his partners did. He certainly didn’t volunteer any information. He’d already overshared with Ripley. He didn’t know how that had happened; the words had just tumbled out of his mouth.

  As he waited this time there was a thrumming in his blood. Nerves and lust. Ripley would be back. And then? Then it went as far as it did. He drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. This is what he was here for.

  If he wanted it, why did he always tie himself up in knots about it?

  He had no answer.

  Maybe he was one of those people who wasn’t great with people. But he knew that wasn’t entirely true as he was able to work well with the other guys on the boat.

  Ripley made his way over, tall and lean and probably all muscle. Unless he’d been lying about being a dancer. Pierce doubted it.

  ‘Hey. Sorry about that.’ Ripley smiled and Pierce wanted to kiss him there and then.

  ‘I know what it’s like to be escorting the drunk guy.’

  Ripley looked at him for a moment. ‘Yeah, I suppose you do. Are all navy guys pissheads?’

  ‘No. But after being in the boat for weeks it’s nice to cut loose.’

  ‘That what you’re doing tonight?’ Ripley leaned on the bar next to him. They were close enough to talk over the music. In any other place it would have seemed too close.

  Right now it wasn’t close enough.

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ He wasn’t about to add that he’d arranged a hook-up and then bolted. ‘You?’

  ‘I’m only here for three weeks.’ Ripley looked at him as though making that point crystal clear. It was. ‘I’m catching up with friends and looking to have some fun.’ His lips curved.

  T
hree weeks of fun, nothing more was on offer. That was longer than Pierce had been with anyone. Twice was usually his limit. What would it be like to have someone to call up for the next three weeks?

  He was getting ahead of himself. But he still let his mind go there for a moment because the idea was so very, very tempting.

  ‘What kind of fun?’ Pierce couldn’t look him in the eye.

  Ripley leaned in closer. ‘Any kind. I’m really not fussy.’

  Pierce had to remember how to breathe.

  ‘You don’t get out much, do you?’ Ripley was still there, whispering in his ear.

  ‘No.’ They were talking about sex? He wasn’t entirely sure. He hoped they were.

  ‘That’s a pity.’ Ripley drew away. ‘Come and dance.’

  ‘With you?’

  Ripley gave a shrug but his gaze hardened.

  Pierce knew he’d put his foot in it. ‘I mean, people will see.’

  Ripley raised an eyebrow and took two steps backward. If Pierce didn’t follow he was going to lose him on the dance floor. It was one thing to dance with a bunch of mates, but another to dance with one guy. Nervous sweat prickled between his shoulderblades.

  The dancer beckoned him forward with a flick of his fingers and the sway of his hips. He mouthed something like you know you want to. That could’ve been Pierce’s imagination.

  He took a couple of reluctant steps forward.

  Ripley took his hand. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

  ‘You have no idea.’

  ‘I want to know … later.’ That grin.

  That wasn’t what he’d meant. ‘You don’t have to live here.’ He’d be gone and on to the next guy.

  ‘I was born here and my family lives here. The difference is I’m not worried what other people think.’

  Pierce pulled his hand free and missed the contact immediately. ‘I care.’

  He couldn’t do this … this mock date before doing it.

  Ripley considered him for a moment and nodded. ‘Fine. Let’s leave. You want to come back to my hotel room or you want to bolt because you’re scared I’ll bite?’