I want to kiss him.
Sacha had feelings on public displays of affection, but with Jonah so close he forgot every sensibility that had ever crossed his mind. He forgot about everything except how it might feel to cup Jonah’s neck and press their lips together.
After all, he’d kissed Jonah everywhere else.
Sacha’s eyes grew heavy, as if a smog of desire had settled over him. He took a breath, leaned in, and—
“Jonah!”
Sacha jumped back, startling Jonah as much as the shriek of his name had. He gripped Jonah’s shoulder, holding him in place, searching for the source. For a moment, there was nothing and he feared they’d imagined it. That their combined subconscious had objected to what Sacha already knew was going to be the best kiss of his life.
Then his gaze fell on a wild-eyed FG staff member who’d become Helga’s best source of gossip. Her name was Winona? Maybe? He couldn’t quite remember.
“Jonah!” she called again.
Jonah rose from his seat, already reaching for his coat. “What is it?”
“It’s Carl,” she said. “He got punched.”
9
Jonah pushed through the crowds milling between the mellow pub and the rowdy bar next door. In the chaos, he lost sight of Winona and her raven hair, and panic clawed at his chest. He was younger than some of his staff—a lot of them, actually—but still felt a responsibility for them that made his stomach clench.
And Carl was among the few Jonah counted as friends. The thought of him being hurt made Jonah want to vomit.
Disoriented, he rose on his toes, fighting to see over the throng, but it was no good. He couldn’t see a thing, the Friday night bustle was too thick and he rocked back with a stagger.
Strong hands caught him. Steadying him. Sacha gripped Jonah’s shoulders and used him as leverage to conduct his own sweep of their surroundings. “Over there,” he said. “Come on.”
He towed Jonah on without waiting for an answer, elbowing a path through the masses until they came to a small clearing where they found Carl propped against a lamp post, blood dripping from a nasty gash in his scalp.
Jonah dropped to a crouch beside him. “What the hell happened?”
“Some arsehole put his hand down Winona’s pants. I pushed him away so he slammed a bottle into my head.”
“A bottle? Jesus.” Jonah put gentle hands on Carl’s face, tilting his head to inspect the messy wound. “Who did it? Where are they?”
Carl pointed beyond Jonah to another body he hadn’t noticed in a heap on the pavement. Nico stood nearby, arms folded, scowling as security staff tried to back him against a wall.
Jonah knew him well enough to join the dots. “Wow. Maybe you should’ve let Nico handle it from the start.”
Carl offered him a weak grin. “Maybe, but he wasn’t around, and the dude was already assaulting Winona, so I didn’t think.”
Jonah shivered, disturbed by both the blood oozing out of Carl’s head, and the visual of what had brought them to this moment. He searched for Winona and found her crying into Sacha’s chest. Around her shoulders was Sacha’s expensive coat, while Sacha spoke too quietly to her for Jonah to hear what he was saying.
He couldn’t see Sacha’s face either, and it was as frustrating now as it had been at the office. Or maybe it was something else. Jonah forced himself to focus on Winona, on her tear-streaked face and trembling shoulders. He felt sick, but he didn’t have time to choke on it. Carl was still bleeding and there was no sign of the paramedics a passer-by had called.
Jonah shed his coat and his suit jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the fitted T-shirt he wore beneath. He yanked it over his head, leaving him briefly bare and exposed to the chilly night air. Loud whistles reached him, but he ignored them, zeroed in on Carl, and folded the T-shirt to press to the wound on his head.
Carl flinched, but grasped the makeshift dressing while Jonah put his clothes back on.
When Jonah looked at him again, his pained gaze was still amused. “What?”
Carl cocked a bloodied eyebrow. “Nothing. Just absorbing the fact that the Russian computer nerd was looking at you like he wants to eat you.”
Jonah forced himself to keep still and not spin around to check out whatever Sacha was doing to make Carl’s face light up. “I don’t know any computer nerds, so whatever you thought you saw is probably the result of concussion.”
“Oh yeah, so why is he even here? I don’t see any other Blutecc weirdos floating around.”