He looked me over, polite, but something else too. “You look like someone trying to blend in and panic at the same time.”
“That’s probably accurate,” I muttered, half-laughing. “I didn’t even know what kind of place this was until the lady at the front asked me to pick a color-coded wristband.” I knew I was rambling and should probably shut up, but of course that wasn’t an option. I turned away, being flashed by some lady who was kneeling. “Oh, fuck, shit, boobs.” I rushed out, covering my eyes.
“Want to sit?” he offered, raising his eyebrow as he motioned to a nearby booth that was tucked a little out of the way. “You look like you could use a second to breathe.”
“Yeah. That’d be good.” I nodded.
We slipped into the booth, my hands shaking as I still held onto my cup like someone was going to steal it from me.
“I’m not sure this is the club I would bring someone to for the first time.”
“Why?”
“It’s more kink and BDSM focused. Some sex clubs have the sex in different areas, so you still get a club feel. Here it’s just… everywhere.”
“I noticed that.”
We sat in silence for a moment, the buzz of the room carrying on around us, full of secrets I wasn’t sure I was ready to know.
“I’m Mya,” I said, offering a hand.
“Nick.” He shook it, his grip warm and steady.
“So,” I said, half-smiling, “you always rescue overwhelmed teachers in fancy adult clubs?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Only the cute ones who look like they’d rather be grading papers.”
Nick didn’t say much after his last comment. He just sipped from his water and glanced around the room like he was watching a movie play out that only he understood.
“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” I asked, half-teasing as I glanced over the rim of my glass.
He met my eyes, steady and unreadable. Then he gave a slight shrug. “I talk when it matters. Mostly, I just watch. People tell you who they are if you’re quiet long enough.”
That shut me up. In the best way. I sipped my drink, letting the silence settle between us. Usually that would’ve driven me crazy. I hated empty space and always felt like I had to fill it. But with him, it didn’t feel empty. Just… still. Like he didn’t need me to act any way.
“You come here a lot?” I asked after a beat.
“Now and then,” he said. “It’s quiet here.”
I raised a brow, glancing around at the moans, chains, and leather. “You call this quiet?”
He gave a half-smile. “Not the noise. The rules. The control. It’s clear. Predictable. That kind of quiet.”
I let that sink in. “So… control issues?”
He didn’t flinch. “Recovery,” he said plainly. “Drinking nearly ruined my whole life. This place… it helps keep my head straight.”
The honesty in his voice caught me off guard. There was no shame in it, just truth.
“Shit,” I murmured, then winced. “Sorry, that was probably too personal a question—”
“No,” he cut in gently. “It’s just part of who I am. I’ve stopped pretending it’s not.” He said it like someone who’d been through hell and wasn’t planning to go back.
I nodded, quietly impressed. “That actually makes a weird kind of sense.”
He studied me for a second, something flickering behind his eyes. “You’re different.”
“I get that a lot,” I said, giving him a small smile. “ADHD. Overthinker. Teacher who’d rather spend Friday night reorganizing her bookshelf than going out. This was definitelynoton my usual weekend agenda.”
