Page 4 of Breaking Vincent
To be honest, I don’t think I'm coping too well with being on my own. But I refuse to meet someone at the club, and trying to find people who take you seriously on dating sites becomes more of a chore, rather than a bit of fun.
I would like to find my forever person. I shake my head at the thought, I’m twenty-four years old, I have plenty of time left before I need to settle down.
I walk out of the club and William follows behind me and locks the doors. He turns to me and says, “I know you don’t feel comfortable coming to the club to play, but my brother and his fiancé are having a collaring ceremony in a couple of weeks. They’re wanting to have a fancy-dress type party. It will be an invite only event, and I'd think it would be cool if you came to celebrate with us.”
It's been a while since I've witnessed a collaring, and I have to admit I love the whole process of it and how intimate it is. “Will they mind if I'm there? It’s a personal moment.”
William sticks his hand in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders, “They won’t mind. They’re a friendly couple. They know how much I trust all my staff, so they will feel comfortable with you being there. Plus, it’ll give you the opportunity to meet some new people.”
I think about William’s offer all the way home. It would be nice to meet some people who are in the community, but on the other hand, I feel like I would be intruding on a sentimental moment.
By the time I get home and have a quick bite to eat, I'm nearly falling asleep on the sofa. I check the time on my phone and see it's almost 4am. I grab the television remote and turn off the episode of Black Mirror I was half paying attention to.
Usually, I would shower after spending the night at work. The club runs hot and I'm always sweating by the time my shift is over, but I’m dog-tired, so the shower can wait until the morning.
My phone ringing wakes me up, my eyes burn when I open them. I reach for my phone and see my sister's name flashing on the screen.
“David, I've been calling you for ages. Why aren't you up yet?” My sister demands to know.
I check the time and see it’s just after 10 a.m.
“I worked until closing time last night, Sofia. I had a late night,” A yawn interrupts my talking before I continue to say, “What's up? Why are you calling me so early on a Saturday?”
My sister doesn’t sound very apologetic when she says, “I’m sorry, but Mia has been hounding me about seeing her favourite uncle. How about you come see us today? It's warm out so maybe we can go for a picnic in the park?”
The thought of seeing my niece makes me feel better about my lack of sleep.
“I’m her only uncle,” I snort. “I miss her too. Give me some time to wake up and I’ll meet you guys there.”
“Perfect, we will meet you there at 12. Amo a tu Hermano.”
I smile as I respond, “Love you too, Sis.” And then we hang up.
Because we spent our childhood in Spain, we all grew up speaking Spanish. When we moved to England my sister and I spent years perfecting our English, but we still like to say our pleasantries in our mother tongue.
I get out of bed and jump straight into the shower, washing away all the sweat from the night before.
It doesn’t take long to get dressed and ready. I have some time to spare before I have to go meet my sister and niece at the park, so I decide to grab a coffee from the café on the way.
The sun is shining brightly and the air is warm, usually I wouldn’t mind the walk, but the air con in my car is calling my name, so I decide to drive to the café.
Being midday on a Saturday in the middle of Manchester means the roads are busy, but it doesn’t take too long before I'm parking my car in the shopping centre car park. I make the short walk to the café. Surprisingly, the place isn't as packed as I thought it would be, so I only have to wait in line for a few minutes before I have a hot cup of coffee in my hands.
As I turn around to head towards the door somebody bumps into me, sending scolding liquid all over my hands and chest. I hiss as the coffee burns my skin, forcing myself to hold in the colourful language I want to spurt from my mouth.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” The man who crashed into me obviously isn't bothered about swearing in public.Charming.
I look up at the man, like I have to physically hold my head back to get a look at his face. His cheeks are flushed and his bright green eyes are scowling down at me.
I scowl back, before I grab a couple of napkins from the holder on the side and mop up the cooling liquid from my chest and neck. My skin stings from the burn, but I don’t think it’s a life-threatening injury.
“I turned around and you crashed into me,” I say through gritted teeth. My jaw clenches so tightly I’m surprised he doesn’t hear the bones scraping together.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You turned around and walked right into me.” His deep voice sends a short and surprising lick of pleasure down my spine.
Jesus Christ, just because you’re good looking it doesn’t mean you get to be a dick.
The stranger is a big man, covered in tattoos and has a face full of piercings.