Shameless Read Online Free PDF Page B

status.
    John smiled. “Yeah, I suppose so. It’s probably just the lager. It really bloats me up. I’ll tell you what I need—a weekend of serious drug abuse and plenty of sex. That should soon sort me out.” He stopped and looked disapprovingly at Martin’s paunch. “Actually, it wouldn’t do you any harm, either. Remember, you’re single again now. And you know what they say—no pecs, no sex. By the way, what’s with the baseball cap?”
    “Bad haircut,” Martin said, gritting his teeth. He really wasn’t in the mood for fashion advice.
    “Give us a look, then,” John said, whipping off the cap before Martin could stop him. “Oh yes, very butch. Actually, it quite suits you short. It makes your eyes look bigger.”
    Martin smiled halfheartedly and glanced around the bar. The early-evening office crowd was beginning to thin out, the young fruits in suits making their way back to their designer flats and designer boyfriends, the older, shabbier types sneaking off to Charing Cross station for a train back to suburbia and the wife. Soon the bar would start filling up with bright young things in combat trousers and tight T-shirts, gearing up for a night of clubbing and endless sexual possibilities. God, it was unbearable!
    “Time for another, I think,” John chirped suddenly, rising from the table. “Another Budweiser? Or shall we move onto the vodka? Yes, I think a large vodka and Red Bull is what you need. It gives you wings, you know. Not that I don’t see enough of those at work. Back in a tick.”
    Martin watched John disappear in the direction of the bar and wondered whether it was worth making a quick escape. What time was it? Just about nine. If he left now, he could be back home in time for
Frasier.
This was assuming there were no delays on the Northern Line, of course. Still, maybe there’d be a film on later, some old horror movie or something. Or one of those really tacky telemovies with Barbara Eden playing a woman half her age. They were usually good for a laugh. Or maybe one of those “Ibiza Uncovered” type programs, with lots of sex-crazed straight people on holiday behaving the way most gay men behaved every week of the year.
    “Look who I bumped into!” Martin looked up to see John swinging off some guy in a T-shirt two sizes too small. He was cute, though, there was no denying that—quite beefy, with short dark hair that showed no sign of receding and solid black eyebrows over the bluest eyes. He looked a bit like Christopher, in fact. Other than that, Martin had absolutely no idea who this person was. Of course John wasted no time in introducing him. The guy’s name was Matthew, and he and John had met in a chat room on the Internet.
    “I didn’t know you came here,” John said. He was looking at Matthew, although his remark was clearly for Martin’s benefit. “Have a seat,” John went on, gesturing to Matthew to join them at the table. “You don’t mind, do you, Martin?”
    “No, of course not.” Martin smiled feebly. He was frequently amazed at how little time it took for John to get his claws into someone. One night of passion, and they were joined at the hip for the next three weeks—which was about as long as any of John’s relationships ever lasted. Trust him to throw himself into a new relationship just as Martin’s was ending, and with someone guaranteed to remind Martin of Christopher.
    Several vodka and Red Bulls later, Martin was starting to feel a lot better. Matthew was really quite nice—far nicer than the men John usually went for. He was obviously intelligent, which was always an unexpected bonus where John’s sexual conquests were concerned, and considering how attractive he was, he didn’t seem too full of himself. What’s more, Martin had a suspicion that Matthew liked him, too. He was very chatty, and even quite flirtatious at one point. John had gone to the bar and Martin was telling Matthew about Christopher and the way he had just upped and