Page 19 of Edge

“I’ll book atable and see you there. I look forward to it.” Jory turned andwalked away, making sure he wiggled his arse before he cleared thedoorway.

Hook, line, andsinker.

He had a hot date Fridaynight.

His luck was finallyturning for the better.

CHAPTER TEN

Damian

“Good God,lad, it’s only a date, not a bloody wedding.” Dave’s exasperatedtone rang out in the hallway. “You’ve been in there half theafternoon figuring out what to wear for your date with your hot andsexy stud.”

“It’s not anydate, you berk,” Damian growled back. “It’s a date with a rock starwho’s had more gorgeous blokes than me on his arm at fancypremieres.” From the research he’d done on Edge aka Jory JLongstone, Jory was out and proud, and made no bones about hisbisexuality, but certainly seemed to have a preference formen.

Damian had been quitedisconcerted trawling Instagram and TikTok for details about hisupcoming date. Edge always had a load of beautiful hangers-on ofall genders surrounding him. Not to mention the occasional pictureof a man who resembled Jason Statham who appeared in the backgroundof most public shots. He was noted as being a bodyguard calledDumont Benoir and Damian had no doubt the man was good at hisjob.

Surprisingly enough,there wasn’t much information about Jory and his childhood, or hisearly teen years. It was as if he’d become truly visible only whennews of his music and his incredible voice started to get out intothe world.

There was, however,something strange about another individual Edge was often pairedwith. His name was Roger Gilchrist, who was Edge’s guardian. Theyappeared at functions together but from the look of the photos,Jory—Damian preferred his real name—wasn’t at all taken with theman. He stood apart from or behind Roger, making it obvious hedidn’t want direct association with the man.

Weird indeed. Damianwondered what the situation was all about. Perhaps he’d mention itat dinner.

His uncle entered hisbedroom, bearing a plate with a sandwich on it. “Knockmuch?”

“I thought youmight need a little something to keep your strength up,” Dave saidin amusement as he eyed the detritus of Damian’s wardrobe and thestate of the mass of clothes on his bed. “Getting ready for a datefor you seems to be one helluva event.” He mock frowned. “And didyou call me a berk?”

Damian scowled and tookthe plate, happy to see the sandwich was his favourite—pastrami andmustard on rye bread. “Thanks,” he grunted, ignoring the jibe aboutthe insult. “I’m not a perfectionist. I don’t want to appear tooeager or too laid-back, you know? I want to be the right mix of nottoo eager but interested.”

He picked up a pair ofindigo-blue Wranglers, regarded them, and threw them on the bed. “Ineed some new clothes,” he said gloomily. “Everything I have is soout of date.”

Dave sighed and walkedover to Damian’s wardrobe. “I’ve seen your date, and believe me, hedoesn’t look the type to judge you on what you wear. Hell, he seemsmore comfortable in jeans and hoodies himself.” He rummaged towardsthe back of the cupboard and flourished a shirt triumphantly.“Ta-da. This is a decent shirt. It’ll go nicely with these blackslim-fit jeans here.” He drew a pair of trousers off theshelf.

Damian had forgotten theshirt was even in there. It was a skinny satin bottle green, whichhe knew brought out his eye colour. He admitted the outfit mightnot be too bad a choice. Coupled with a black blazer, it woulddo.

“Thanks,” hesaid grudgingly and scowled when Dave slapped him on the backplayfully.

“You’rewelcome.” His uncle raised an eyebrow. “So any idea where you guysare going tonight?”

Damian nodded. “Calvin’sBistro in Trafford. It’s not too fancy, but nice enough for a firstdate.”

“Oh, fancy,”Dave drawled. “Should I be expecting you home tonightthen?”

Damian turned slowly frompulling his blazer out of the cupboard and rolled his eyesheavenward. “Luckily, I have a private flat entrance so you’llnever know, will you?”

I have noidea what might happen. Best to keep my options open.

He’d been known to havethe occasional one-night stand, although it wasn’t his firstpreference. His last boyfriend, Alec, had lasted a good six monthsuntil he’d had to move to Nova Scotia to fulfil an oceanographicassignment his company had sent him on. Their breakup had beenamicable, and yes, a little heartsore, but neither of them hadfigured they were ready for a long-distancerelationship.

Damian liked hissignificant other to be available for unplanned walks on the beach,someone he could snuggle up to while watching the telly. Nothunkered down in some godforsaken part of Canada recording bluewhales or whatever.

“Right, oldman, get out of my room while I get dressed.” Damian shooed hisuncle out and closed the door firmly to the sound of chuckles onthe other side.

***

Damian arrived atCalvin’s five minutes earlier than scheduled, and entered therestaurant. The soft lighting gave the establishment a muted look,the warm varnish of the wooden chairs and tables reflecting in themirrors along the ochre walls. The place was inviting, andimmediately Damian felt relaxed, his jumping nerves abating alittle.

He waited for the serverto notice him and smiled as he came over. “Good evening. I believethere’s a table booked in the name of Jory Longstone?”