“Everything?” Zeb asks, giving the two men another uneasy look.

Jesse shrugs. “Everything. This is Felix we’re talking about. You should really start to cultivate a sense of self-preservation, lover. Especially at your advanced age.” He laughs as Zeb glares at him. He reaches up for a kiss which the older man willingly supplies.

I smile at the two of them. I’d been sceptical when they got together. Zeb is gorgeous, but in addition to being his boss, he’s older than Jesse and seemed extremely set in his ways. However, Jesse’s natural charming exuberance had worked its spell, and the two have been inseparable since they got together. They look very right together, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces that have snapped into place.

I open my carrier bag and pull out the glow sticks I’d packed. “Thought we could wear these,” I say cheerfully.

Misha groans. “Can I just register my displeasure with this idea? It’s bad enough that we have to walk through London when there are a multitude of taxis that could drive us wherever we want to go, and now we have to do it looking like a relic from a rave in the nineties.”

“You can certainly register that thought as long as you’re aware that I’m going to completely ignore it like the rest of your whingeing.” I smile widely at him. “Get your glow on, Misha.”

He laughs, grabbing a stick and giving my hand a squeeze before wrapping the stick around his wrist where it glows in vivid colour in the darkening night. He pulls me close. “I’m doing this for you and I hope it’s suitably appreciated later,” he says in a low voice, and I swallow hard before smirking at him.

“I will be so appreciative that I’ll be struggling to walk tomorrow,” I whisper and his eyes flame.

“Promises, promises.”

I step away to offer the rest of the sticks to the group, only to find them silently staring at us, including Max and Felix, who have abandoned their fight.

“What?” I say nervously.

Jesse folds his arms over his chest. “Don’t ‘what’ me, Charlie Burroughs. For shame. What’s going on between the two of you?”

“Erm,” I falter, looking at Misha. We haven’t made a contingency plan for this. We haven’t said it’s secret, but we equally haven’t been racing to tell everyone.

He gives me a long look, and I can’t decipher his expression, but then he turns to the men. “Charlie and I are together,” he says simply. “I would request that you keep the piss-taking to a minimum, but the intense realism that’s a major part of my personality tells me that you load of twats won’t be able to comply with that.”

“Not at all,” Jesse says mournfully. He shakes his head. “I’m just not very good with any form of authority.”