Hesitating only long enough to get a bottle of beer, Zander headed deeper into the club. The dance floor was busy, but not overcrowded. Most dancers swayed to the music, and a few held one another as they rocked. Then the music picked up tempo.

More dancers, clearly motivated by the sudden change of beat, moved onto the floor and Zander scurried off to the side. He wasn’t interested in dancing, or risking losing his beer. But he did want to see the musician who played so well.

Dodging around the patrons milling at the dance floor edges, Zander found himself in a perfect place with a solid wooden column to protect his left side to be able to look directly onto the tiny stage just a few feet away.

Taking a large swallow of beer to lubricate a suddenly dry throat, Zander stared. The violinist wasn’t some staid orchestra performer, or a bearded, new-age hippie type dripping in beads. He wore plain black pants and a white shirt which might have started off fastened, but now hung open and framed a pale, smooth chest.

Zander’s gaze homed in on the performer’s nipples, a perfect shade of pink, surrounded by darker areolas and one glinted with gold. The violinist’s hair flowed around him like a reddish-gold mantle, wild and untamed. Despite all of that, it was his long, slender fingers, which proved so captivating as they caressed his violin.

When the music ended, the performer took a bow to loud applause. Zander joined in, wondering if the violinist was coming back after a break. To his disappointment, one of the bar’s staff went on stage announcing that a group would be performing next.

Turning back toward the bar, Zander opted to have another beer and hang around long enough to see if the group was any good before deciding whether to move on. Finding a couple of empty chairs at a table tucked into a corner, Zander sat down.

A moment later, Zander sat up straighter. Unless the violinist had a twin brother, he’d just made an appearance behind the bar. His shirt was fastened and his hair tied up in a high ponytail, but Zander knew it was him.

Chugging down the last of his beer, Zander made sure to work his way to the bar so the redhead would serve him. Resisting the temptation to elbow aside a blond who seemed reluctant to move away, Zander finally got into place, just as the redhead looked over at him.

It seemed to Zander that his entire universe shrank to a pair of mesmerizing eyes of emerald green and yet there was also a hint of amber in those captivating orbs.

“Can I get you something?” The redhead’s voice broke the spell and Zander blinked a couple of times before feeling able to reply.

“Beer, please.” Zander held up the empty bottle he held, unsure if he could even get the name out.

“Coming right up.”

As the redhead handed over the beer, their fingers brushed and Zander felt a zip of excitement that went straight to his cock. “My name’s Zander. What’s yours?”

“Foss.”

“Unusual.”

“Yes. It’s European, means fox.”

“What time do you finish?” Zander leaned closer, dropping his voice a fraction, not wanting the patrons around to hear so openly.

“At midnight. Will you wait for me?” Foss’s face lit up with a smile of delight.

“Absolutely. I’ll be over there.” Zander pointed to the end of the bar where he’d spotted a barstool.

“See you later. That one’s on me.” Foss nodded at the beer and then hurried away to serve another customer.

Midnight was only a couple of hours away and Zander sat himself down with his beer. Sipping slowly, Zander kept looking at his watch. The time seemed to be crawling by. As good as the group performing was, Zander willed time to go faster. Then what? What the fuck am I doing? I don’t know anything about this guy. I’m breaking all my dating rules in one go.