Who wouldn’t be interested? Regge was a broad-shouldered, green-eyed blond—sex on legs with a side of charm and a British accent.
Not for the first time, I wondered if a gay club was a good idea. He’d survived a brutal past and portal travel, but a gay club was another kind of chaos—loud, sweaty, and shameless. Great potential for letting loose or finding trouble depending on one’s mood.
Regge had been adjusting to modern life well—adapting his language, his wardrobe, and not freaking out at public transportation or big-screen TVs. He’d even started working at Pinkie’s Bar with me. But it was a far cry from our friendly neighborhood bar to a night at Reckless Abandon.
Having lived in a restrictive society when it came to open affection among same-sex couples, he was both fascinated and apprehensive about tonight.
“Hey, Hunter.” Gavin, the bouncer, grinned at me. “It’s been a minute. Figured you were off the market.” His eyes strayed to Regge, squinting some. “You got ID, dude? This is twenty-one and over.”
“I assure you, good sir, I am well of age, being four and twenty.” Regge smiled but pulled his wallet with his newly acquired—and totally fake—ID.
Gavin stamped our hands and let us through. The bass line thumped, vibrating up through my shoes. The air was thick and permeated with body spray, hair gel, and pomegranate cosmos. I pulled Regge toward the very busy bar.
The dance floor was jammed with bodies writhing against each other. Strobe lights flashed in time with the bass line. Men and women shared the floor, laughing, talking into each other’s ears. Regge shouted toward me. “It’s loud.”
I nodded. “You’ll get used to it.” I leaned into him. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.”
After downing half our drinks, we hit the floor. He was stiff and awkward at first, but as the music reverberated around us, he relaxed and mirrored my moves.
We were having a great time, meeting a few friendly guys, dancing together, taking breaks occasionally to buy more drinks.
Regge pressed his ass against me as we moved. My arms came around him as naturally as breathing. The scent of my herbal shampoo in his hair had me feeling like he was mine. I brushed a nipple through his shirt, causing a shudder.
“Hey.” The greeting came from a dark-haired guy in jeans and gold chains. His partially bared chest gleamed with sweat. “I’m Jason.” He was good-looking and knew it in his core, flashing an artificial smile.
Regge edged out of my arms, away from me. I’d felt him tense as Jason spoke. Unused to public displays, Regge held everyone at a distance. Irritated that our happy little bubble was burst by Mafia surfer dude, I kept one hand on his hip as we bounced to the beat.
“You guys together?” Jason asked.
I bit my lip as Regge shook his head. We were friends. I hoped for more—was taking it slow. He was still adjusting to everything. But then he turned around, draping his hands over my shoulders. Over his shoulder, I saw Jason dance away.
“You don’t need to stay with me, Reg, if you find someone you like.”
He scoffed, smiling as two guys from the friendly group came near us again, bringing their exuberant energy.
Several minutes later, I left him to refill our drinks. The bar area was crowded, but I pushed my way through to the far end.
“You look great out there.” A tall redhead leaned toward me as I waited.
“Thanks.”
My gaze strayed toward the dance floor, searching for Regge. I found our group easily enough but couldn’t see him. The bartender came by and I ordered. Red-haired guy said something else, but I missed it, still scanning the strobe-lit bodies.
The drinks came. The cups were sweating in my hands as I circled the dance floor. He was a grown man, but I’d promised not to leave him. The friendly group danced nearby. I leaned into the shorter one. I think his name was Marco.
“Hey, where’s Regge? My friend?”
Marco’s partner grinned at me and shimmied over. “You’re just friends, right? ’Cause he’s off with Jason.”
“What?”
“Jason. The dude’s kind of an asshole, but he’s hot.”
Marco pulled on my arm. “Henry, don’t—”
“He and your friend seemed to hit it off. They went toward the bathrooms.” When he saw my face, he backtracked a bit. “Maybe your guy went looking for you. I’m sorry, man.”
I sped off the floor, setting the drinks on someone else’s table.
