I rested my head on the seat and looked up at the ceiling. “You’re the one who wanted to talk.”
“I’m trying to figure out why Crow speaks nicely of you when you don’t seem nice at all.”
“I’m nice. I’ve just been having a hard time lately.”
“Hard time with what?”
“Damn. That is none of your business, dude. I don’t know you.”
“You know Crow.”
“So? I don’t tell him shit about my life either.” I tapped my thumbs against the steering wheel. “Look, Skyler. I’m not fucking your boyfriend. I’m not making moves on him. I’m keeping my distance. Am I disappointed? Sure. But there wasn’tever anything between us. Nothing. Just a good fuck and that was a long time ago. Is that what you want to hear?”
“No. I want to know why it seems like you’re still so fucking jealous after having said all that.”
“What?” He was a bold fucker. And if I didn’t have so much respect for Crow, I might have told him off. “I’m not jealous. Not really. Like I said, I’m having a hard time, and it has nothing to do with you and Crow.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Well, fuck him. “You think you saved me and now I owe you my life story? Fuck that.”
“Joey—”
“No. Get the fuck out of my car.” I was going home, even though I wanted to go back inside the club, but I was too embarrassed right now to do it. Had to have Skyler send Crow to clean up my mess. Just one more thing to add to the fuck me pile.
“Fine.” Skyler got out and slammed the door. I wanted to get out and kick his ass for it. Instead, I took a deep breath and drove off.
I’d had enough of everything. Enough of Afterglow. Enough of nosey assholes and groping daddies. Enough of my stupid social media failures and enough of working for some stupid ass company that sided with anonymous complaints over their best employee. I should be making money for me, not them.
I was going to work this out and be successful. The next big influencer. I was a mother-fucking-marketing-genius. And I was going to prove it.
Somehow.
I finally got the nerve up to go to this club that I had not one but two passes for. Curiosity was eating me alive. I knew it was a gay, kink club, but it seemed from the website and Google searches like it was innocuous, at least on the surface.
It took me all afternoon to finally figure out what to wear, and I settled on a tight blue T-shirt under a black jacket. It wasn’t leather, but damn, it was Florida and fucking hot out. I had to go with something lighter. Black jeans complemented the look, and my shit-kicker boots gave me a dominant appearance. At least I hoped so.
I’d recently purchased a Bentley Continental to get around town. The rental car got old fast. Since I was in Florida, I got the convertible, of course. Seemed appropriate. I ran my hand over the sleek front fender before climbing in. She was a sexy car with a battleship-gray paint job and black trim. Man, how did a humble kid from Franklin, Tennessee, end up with all this? That was an easy answer. I worked hard, drove fast, and never took no for an answer. But I compromised who I was inside to do it. Well, no more. Time to be who I was meant to be.
I was going to a gay club. And fuck anyone else who had an opinion on that.
Getting in was easy. I simply handed over one of the guest passes. The bouncer was three times bigger than me with boulder-shoulders. I was not going to fuck with him. He smiled, softening his scowl, and it made him look younger. “The bar is over there, dance floor on the other side. If you’re going to play in No Limits, you should skip the bar. No drinking and we use a breathalyzer. Plus, no phones back there. Got it?”
No Limits. That was the kink part of this club. I probably would not be going there. At least not this time. I wasn’t ready for it and had no one to join me. “Got it,” I repeated with a nod, and he moved aside to let me pass.
At first glance, it was chaotic. A lot was going on. People everywhere, of various shapes, sizes, and dress. It was dark, but not too dark. Actually, it was nicely decorated and didn’t feel skeezy at all; rather, it was reminiscent of an old-fashioned gentleman’s club. Not the strip joint kind, but the rich man kind.
I made my way up to the bar and leaned over the polished top. It didn’t take the bartender long to take my order, and he was back even faster with my vodka martini. I didn’t care for gin, but the ones with vodka were decent. I handed him a credit card to start a tab, then turned to take in the rest of the club.
There were a lot of people on the dance floor. More than I would have thought, and a good bit of them were smaller, young guys. And cute. I guess I did have a type. The music was annoying at best, with overwhelming drums and bass and high-pitched vocals behind it, but the lights were more sedate than I would have imagined. Nothing flashy, just a few spots flying around, highlighting people on the floor.
One was really cute with purple hair, tight jeans, and a T-shirt. He looked… unpretentious, just a young guy having fun. He moved to the beat with half-closed eyes, enjoying himself. Iwanted to meet him. Something about him was attractive. He seemed like a mischievous angel.
A big, older guy came up to him and started dancing. I figured I’d missed my chance. But…
He was trying to pull away from the guy, who was very handsy with him. I stepped forward to go intercept, but before I could, some other motorcycle-daddy-looking dude stepped in. Well. What was going on? Before I could decide what—if anything—to do, the cute purple-haired guy ran off with another twink. They flew past me and out the front door.
So much for that.
