It had been a week since I last saw Markus. True to Dev's word, he'd not been into work at all. I hadn't asked why, afraid to reveal any sort of interest in him in case Dev got the wrong (right) idea.

It wasn't until the following Monday, after I'd finished training, and spent an hour in the changing room showering and getting dressed, that I saw Markus - and the rest of the guys. All three of his friends were standing in the gym's reception while Markus was behind the front desk speaking to a young guy I hadn't seen before who, frankly, looked a little bored by whatever it was Markus was saying.

Lynch was the first to notice me as I emerged from the women's changing rooms, drawing my focus before I could stare at Markus for too long.

"Holy shit!" he swore, letting out a low, drawn out whistle as his eyes scanned me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Markus straighten and turn towards us.

None of them looked as if they were here to train - or work. There wasn't a single pair of trainers in sight. They all wore jeans, barring Andres, who looked ridiculously smart in a pair of dark grey check trousers. Alec wore a black button-down shirt that had a large white geometric repeat pattern; the short-sleeved material hugged his slim figure nicely, and the monochrome colour drew focus to two sleeves of colourful tattoos that I had yet to see before now. Lynch, in dark jeans and a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned grey shirt over the top, had even styled his hair.

My steps slowed, and my heart clenched as soon as all four pairs of eyes fell my way. It had been ten days since I'd encountered any of Markus' friends. I hadn't expected to see them, and I sure as hell hadn't expected them to talk to me as if nothing had happened.

"What?" I asked tersely, tugging on the bottom of my dress, and shifted uncomfortably on my feet. I'd left my backpack and the rest of my belongings in a locker, and I felt a little bare without them.

"What are you wearing?"

"A dress? Heels?" I answered with a raised brow. Lifting one of my feet ever so slightly to angle the black square heels towards Lynch. Markus frowned at my outfit.

Well, that's a confidence boost.

The dress was a little more revealing than I was comfortable with. It was something I had bought over two years ago and had subsequently spent two years shoved to the back of my wardrobe. I'd never had the occasion to wear it before now, but Sarah had all but forced me to pack the dress for my date tonight. It was a plain black material - which would be boring if not for the fact that it left my entire back exposed with nothing more than a few strings to keep it attached. And while the dress came to just above my knee, there was a huge slit up one side that revealed almost the entirety of my thigh tattoo. The only jewellery I wore was a simple gold chain that I never took off, and a handful of gold studs that lined my ears.

"Oh, really?" Lynched said sarcastically, "I never would have guessed. I meant why are you wearing it? I've never seen you in anything but sweats and trainers."

He was speaking to me as if I hadn't stormed out of the gym, or argued with him outside with Jun at my side, as if Jun hadn't clearly stated my affiliation with her despite whatever feud the two of them clearly had between one another. I glanced towards Markus again, but he had already averted his eyes, and was back to speaking to the man behind the reception desk as if I wasn't even there.

I rolled my eyes. "I have a date."

"You have a date? Who are you going on a date with?" Andres asked incredulously, as if the very notion of me dating was absurd.

"Some guy named Michael," I said with a frown and a shrug. "My flat mate set it up. I've not met him before."

Lynch snorted. "I can't wait to hear all about this. Blind dates never go well."

"Maybe not for you," I retorted, rolling my eyes as I walked past them all. "And what makes you think I'm going to tell you anything about it?"

"Do you even know what he looks like? Or anything about him?" Alec asked, glancing over at Markus.

"I've seen his Facebook."

"And?" Lynch pressed.

I shrugged one shoulder. "He's alright."

"Oof," Andres laughed. "Poor guy."

***

This was the last time I let Sarah set me up.

The guy, Michael, had been talking about his ex for nearly an hour now. Every time I tried to steer the conversation away, somehow he brought us right back there again. It was exhausting, and I was barely listening to him anymore.

The date was only made worse when he hadn't wanted to eat. No, we were here purely for drinks, sat at the cocktail bar on the high bar stools, while I stared longingly over at the people eating across the room.

In all fairness, the idea of a cocktail date was great, but it hadn't been what I expected when Michael messaged me to ask if I wanted to go to the new restaurant that had opened up this week. Restaurant, to me, implied food.

I had eaten nothing since lunch, and after the gym, I was starving - a fact made very obvious by the loud grumbling noises my stomach was making. I didn't care enough about Michael's opinion of me, though, to feel embarrassed. It wasn't like he'd even noticed, clearly too enraptured by the sound of his own voice.

With my cheek resting heavily in the palm of my hand as I leant against the bar, I caught the sympathetic eye of the bartender that had served us our drinks. She arched an eyebrow and mouthed the words, 'First date?'.

I could only nod, reaching once again for my near empty glass, fiddling with the straw.

"Hey." Michael's hand appeared in front of me, and he clicked his fingers twice to grab my attention. "You zoned out there."

Fuck me, how am I supposed to get out of this? I can't possibly take another five minutes of this man's presence.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the bartender approaching. She slid it across the bar towards me. "This is from the guy at that table, over there."

Following the direction of her pointed finger, I immediately spotted four very familiar men, all of whom were staring my way. Sat with them, staring down at a menu, was a pale, skinny, red-haired man I had not met before. He was sitting close to Andres, though, their sides pressed intimately together in the booth.

Andres raised his glass towards me, a beaming grin on his lips. I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth from quirking up into a small smile, shaking my head slightly in amusement. There really didn't seem to be any animosity between us.

"Don't smile at them. You'll give them the wrong impression." Michael was scowling as he snapped, "Who the hell do they think they are, anyway? We're obviously on a date."

I ignored him, shooting a smile at the bartender. "Send him another of whatever he's drinking."

"Are you kidding me?" Michael snapped beside me, his scowl very much centred on me now.

Right, I'm on a date. I probably shouldn't be sending drinks to random guys in the middle of it.

"I was just being polite," I said, not bothering to explain that I knew them. I want this date to be over.

Michael sighed, and his expression shifted into something patronising. "Look, I don't think this is going to work out. Frankly, you come across as a little boring. You've barely said two sentences since we sat down." That's because you wouldn't shut up, you prick. "Now you're buying drinks for other men, and it just seems toxic. I don't want to be with a woman if she's not going value my time."

I suppose that's fair. I definitely don't value your time.

"Right," I said, unimpressed. "Yeah, this definitely isn't going to work out."

"Where's your bathroom?" He asked abruptly, turning towards the bartender who, despite facing away from us, had fairly obviously listened to the entire conversation. She stared at him flatly, jerking her thumb over her shoulder towards the opposite side of the restaurant.

Michael said nothing else before he grabbed his jacket and stalked off, leaving me alone at the bar. Well, then.

I certainly wouldn't sit here all alone, and I wasn't about to go home so soon after I'd made the effort to dress up. How embarrassing.

The bartender turned towards me, wide eyed. "Better off without him, I'd say," she said bluntly.

Grabbing my drink, I shot her a wink and nodded over the Markus' table. "I'll be joining them."

"Get it, girl," the bartender laughed, seeming a little surprised. "Don't let one guy ruin your night."

***

"So," Lynch drawled, grinning at me from the other side of the table. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad was the date, then?"

"It was a great date. We're going out again tomorrow," I lied. Beside me, I felt Markus tense ever so slightly.

"Wait, really?" Alec blinked in surprise. He sat wedged between Lynch and Sam around the small table.

Sam, the redhead, was Andre's so called 'fuck buddy'. According to Lynch, that is; Andres certainly had made no introductions in such a fashion, merely introducing Sam as a friend.

The booth was much too small for all six of us. Markus had been absent when I first approached the table, but I could still tell that the remaining space in the circular booth was not enough for the both of us. I had narrow shoulders and was fairly skinny compared to the guys. But Markus was huge in comparison, and unless I wanted to sit in someone's lap, I knew it would be an uncomfortable fit. When I'd pointed this out, Andres had simply rolled his eyes, grabbed my arm, and pulled me rather un-gracefully into the space next to him.

A few minutes later, when Markus had returned from the bathroom, he'd glared at the sight of me. Glared. And now I sat between the two large, muscular men, barely able to breathe. If either of them moved an inch closer, they'd crush me.

I laughed, leaning forward against the table in a desperate attempt to give myself more space, far too aware of the man to my right who had yet to say a single word to me. "No. A guy who takes me on a date to a restaurant and doesn't want to get food is the biggest red flag. I'm starved. Are you guys getting food? Have you already ordered? I'm so hungry my stomach has started to eat itself. I'd give anything for a big bowl of pasta right now. Ooh," I breathed, eyes going wide with excitement, "Or garlic bread. I'd fucking love some garlic bread."

Sam no longer had a menu in front of him, and neither did the rest of the guys. They've already ordered. Brilliant, of course I was a few minutes too late.

"So it was a dud?" Alec clarified, a soft frown furrowing at his dark brows. He ran a hand through his hair. His roots were showing now, I noticed, and his natural dark brown hair was a stark contrast against the rest of the unnatural blond.

My nose wrinkled as his question forced me to think about Michael. "Dude wouldn't stop talking about himself. Thought my ears were gonna' start bleeding to be honest. I was two seconds away from slamming my face onto the bar just to get out of the date. I have absolutely no clue why Sarah thought he'd be a good guy to go out with. I mean, he was good looking, and he must be smart 'cause he's studying physics, but he wouldn't stop talking about his ex."

"You're very chatty," Andres mused with a grin. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Am I?" I asked, frowning. I'd bought a drink as soon as I'd arrived to loosen myself up for the date, and then another when I quickly realised how terrible a date with Michael was. "Two? Three? Oh, but then you bought me a drink, so, four?"

From the other side of the table, Lynch smothered a laugh. "Did you have to drink your way through the pain? I told you blind dates never go well."

"Yeah, yeah." I rolled my eyes. "He could have been the love of my life, and then who'd be laughing?"

Lynch raised a brow at me. "Daisy, if he was the love of your life, we'd all be laughing."

"I didn't pick him!" I laughed indignantly. "This is all my roommate's fault. And, you know, he wasn't that bad. He just needs to work through some shit."

"Maybe don't let her set you up again," Andres laughed.

Next to him, pressed much closer than should be necessary, Sam smiled up at him with the softest expression I'd ever seen. Boy had it bad. There's no way he wasn't already half in love with him. Whatever worries Andres had about Sam's feelings were clearly ridiculous.

"She's already given me the number of a girl she thinks I'd like."

Lynch's eyes widened and I swear his jaw nearly dropped all the way to the table as he exclaimed in a voice too loud for the small restaurant, "You're gay?"

"Bi, pan, queer, gay," I say with a small smile and a shrug. "Whatever you want to call it. I'm not that bothered by labels at the moment."

"Of course you are," Andres exclaimed brightly, not seeming at all surprised. He nudged me with his elbow, forcing me deeper against Markus. "How does it feel to be the only straight, Grim? And Lynch," he teased, looking between his friends. "Feeling left out?"

The man beside me only grunted. When he shifted in his seat and leaned closer to the rest of the group, the heat of his body kissed mine. A vicious heat flushed up the back of my neck, seeping into my cheeks. Markus' voice was low and grumbled as he uttered a quiet, "I'll be back in a second."

Embarrassingly, my thighs clenched together at the mere sound of his voice. But when his hand grazed against the outside of my bare leg, where the slit of the dress revealed far too much, I visibly shivered. How mortifying.

The bastard didn't look at me once, even as my eyes locked onto the side of his face with an intensity that could melt flesh. It looked as if he hadn't shaved in a while, and I hated how much I liked the look of dark stubble across his jaw. It took his usually pretty face and turned it into something more ruggedly handsome.

He walked away, and I tracked the movement with a level of focus I should have, frankly, been ashamed of. He'd taken his hoodie off since they'd arrived, and wore a white t-shirt that was thin enough for the black tattoos beneath to be partially visible. His arms were entirely exposed in the short sleeves and I found myself - not for the first time - trying to inspect the designs of his tattoos, but the lighting of the restaurant was too dim and he was already too far away.

It was unfair for such an attraction for him, given the current state of our relationship with one another, to still afflict me. Things between us felt so strained and uncomfortable. I wasn't sure where we now stood or how to proceed with him.

"Okay, I approve of your friendship with Roman now."

"What?" I mumbled, only vaguely aware that Andres was speaking to me.

"Don't know what it is about him, but that boy collects straight girls like they're Pokémon cards. He lives with three of them." Andres shuddered dramatically. "Could you imagine living with straight people?"

"Hey!" Lynch cried, clearly offended.

"Right, yeah." Andres rolled his eyes. "Sorry, man."

I was still watching after Markus, worrying my lower lip between my teeth. He'd stopped by the bar now, leant against the counter as he spoke to the bartender that had been serving me on my date. She was smiling at him. A small, traitorous part of me hated that smile. Which was unreasonable of me. I wasn't dating him. It wasn't my business if other women found him attractive, or if he found them attractive in return.

"He hates me now, doesn't he?" The words slipped out before I could really think them through, and I immediately felt so ridiculous. What does it matter if he does? I don't care. I don't care. When silence greeted me, I turned back to the table to see Alec and Lynch exchanging a look. "What?"

To my surprise, Sam was the one to lean forward, sipping the last of his cocktail through a tiny straw. My cocktail glass had been empty for the past ten minutes. I needed something to eat before I had another.

With an arm propped against the table, Sam leisurely waved a hand and assured, "From my experience, he's just like that. I can count on one hand the number of times Grim has spoken to me, and I've known these guys about a year now. Right?" He looked up at Andres, blinking heavily. Sam had been awfully quiet when I first came to the table, but after he'd had two more drinks, he seemed to come out of his shell a bit more.

"Nah babe." Andres' arm came to rest behind Sam on the back of the booth. The red-head tucked himself back into Andres' side, cheek pressed against his left pec. "You're not wrong, but in this case, something's deffo' up between him and Daisy."

"Oh." Sam looked at me, obviously intrigued. "Really? What?"

"I-" What was I supposed to say? That I was desperately trying to pretend I didn't want to stalk over to the bar and kiss the life out of a man that simultaneously intrigued me and terrified me? That we'd slept together once on a whim and now, for no apparent reason, I was hanging out with him and his friends, despite the fact that Markus clearly didn't want me here? That just a week ago we had had such a stupid argument in a library of all places, all because I was emotionally stunted and unable to communicate with others, and had not spoken since?

God, what was I doing? This was so fucking weird. He had glared at me when he first noticed my presence at their table; he had glared at me and I had done nothing but ignore it. How much denser did I need to be before Markus had to actually tell me to fuck off? If he had wanted to speak to me again, before now, he would have. I didn't need to force myself upon him.

I settled for shaking my head in lieu of an answer, already reaching for my purse beside me as an excuse to leave rested on the tip of my tongue.

"I think-"

A tray of drinks appeared in the middle of the table. My voice failed me as I eyed the tattooed arms that reached for a pint and some fruity cocktail, handing them over to both Andres and Sam. Markus' muscles flexed as he stretched across the table. My mouth watered on instinct.

Fuck me. No.

He's been ignoring you all night. He doesn't want you here. You don't want him. Think with your head, not your vagina.

A cocktail glass landed in front of me, and I recognised instantly that it was the same fruity drink I had been drinking all evening. Markus met my eyes for only a second, and within that second, I knew I was totally and utterly fucked.

"You wanted pasta, right?"

What?

He reclaimed his seat beside me, the length of his thick, muscular thigh pressed tightly to mine. The material of his jeans was rough against my skin, a constant reminder that he was close enough that, in one move, I could swing one leg over his lap and straddle him right here in the middle of the restaurant if I so pleased.

His large hands would instinctively settle on my arse. His mouth would brush against my throat, my jaw, just below my ear... He'd whisper such filthy things to me...

Markus' hand - the one resting against his leg - flexed. His pinkie finger brushed against my thigh. Despite how brief the contact was, it felt searing hot and my legs clenched together.

Fuck. Daisy, you horny little troll. This is why you can't drink around him. From now on, never drink alcohol in Markus' presence.

"Dais?" He prompted when I had still yet to answer. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name, shortened in a way that denoted some sense of familiarity on his lips.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, feeling a little lost as I looked up at him. "Sorry?"

"I ordered you pasta."

He had ordered food for me?

The unexpected act of kindness, from a man I had been so sure hated me just a few seconds ago, had me feeling something strange. I nodded, sure that there was nothing but a dumb expression on my face, and reached desperately for the cocktail in front of me.

This was going to be a long evening.

[who's your favourite character so far?]