The harness is doing exactly what Felix promised it would. The audience is feral for it. I flex my arms overhead, letting the straps bite into my skin, and there’s a collective intake of breath, a silence that lasts just long enough to notice before the next whoop hits.
I run my tongue over my teeth, point at May with both hands, and grind my hips so shamelessly that even Felix, who has seen every damn thing multiple times in rehearsal, looks like he might faint. May’s jaw is tight, eyes locked on me, and I see him exhale, lips moving around a word I can’t make out.
On stage, time is weird. The song feels like it lasts both forever and no time at all, the adrenaline and heat making everything stretch. I let go, really let go, and the next move is pure instinct. I leap off the stage, landing on the main floor, and strut through the tables, working the crowd. I slap hands, collect more bills, flex for the regulars, and even do a quick, dirty little lap-dance motion at Mal’s table just to hear him snort-laugh.
I climb back up just as the final chorus hits. The crowd eats it up, and I soak it in, never letting myself look away from the one man who matters in the entire club. May doesn’t blink, doesn’t flinch, just watches with an intensity that makes my skin burn.
The song ends with a stinger, a hard crash of drums and a final, echoing “so sexy it hurts,” and I throw both arms wide, letting the flood of applause wash over me. For a second, I just stand there, chest heaving, sweat running down my arms, the harness biting into my chest and reminding me I’m alive. I take a bow and wink at May. He shakes his head, a slow smile breaking across his lips, and mouths,You absolute maniac.
The last echo of the bass is still ringing when the DJ slams the crossfader and suddenly the speakers are pumping “Santa Baby,” a bass line so filthy it could get you arrested in three states. I blink sweat out of my eyes, trying to catch my breath, when Anna and Dee strut onto the stage, both wearing matching red sequin mini-dresses and thigh-high white boots. Between them, they’re carrying the biggest, fluffiest, most ridiculous fur-trimmed red velvet coat I’ve ever seen.
Anna fluffs it theatrically, holding it up like a bullfighter’s cape, while Dee sashays around me, circling like a shark. I play along, letting my arms dangle at my sides, chest still heaving from the last number. The crowd is baying for more, and I can’t tell if the air in here is thick from the snow machine or just the collective thirst.
With a flourish, Anna sweeps the coat around my shoulders, burying me up to my chin in fake fur. The lining is slick and soft, the outside bright red velvet trimmed in white, rhinestone snowflakes scattered across the back. Dee plucks the hat I threw into the crowd earlier off someone’s head and plants it firmly back on mine, then does a little spin, yelling, “Santa’s here, bitches!” at the front row.
The second the coat is in place, Felix, now in criminally tight booty shorts, a harness, and an elf hat, launches himself onto the stage with a running leap after a lightning-fast backstage quick change. Patti, who’d been lurking in the wings with a martini, glides out in a Mrs. Claus number slit all the way up to her hip, silver hair set in tight victory rolls, and lips as red as the coat. Dixie wears a candy-cane-striped corset with matching fishnets, brandishing a tray of shots I’m fairly sure are vodka and green apple pucker and completely lethal.
We fall into formation, the queens flanking me in a tight V. The music ramps up, and the choreography kicks in. The last week of secret rehearsals has mostly paid off. I’m a beat behind, but the queens don’t care. They pull me along, grinning like devils, matching every half-assed move I make with something twice as fabulous. When we hit the chorus, Felix slides across the stage on his knees, showering the front row with glitter confetti, and Anna whips her hair so hard she nearly clocks Dee in the face.
I lose it a little, laughing, whooping, shaking my ass like a man possessed, and the audience eats it up. There’s a wall ofsound, every table on its feet and clapping, dollar bills pelting the stage. Someone at the bar starts a chant. “MILES! MILES! MILES!”
It catches.
Within seconds, the whole club is roaring my name.
It’s chaos. It’s ridiculous. It’s perfect.
Halfway through the number, I catch May in the wings, bouncing on his toes, hands clasped to his chest. He looks so proud, so alive, that it knocks the wind out of me. He’s screaming, “Go, baby!” with his whole body, and every time our eyes meet, I get this burst of adrenaline, like I could do anything, even keep up with professional drag queens for three and a half minutes.
Patti hip-checks me, snapping me back into the routine. I sling an arm around her shoulder, ham it up, and even manage to keep the footwork for once. Felix flirts with the front row, Anna fake-makes-out with Dee, and Dixie weaves through the audience, handing out shots.
The next number is already underway, a remixed “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” with enough bass to make the ceiling tremble. I’m still in the ridiculous Santa coat, dripping sweat, heart pounding out of my chest, when Dee and Anna flank me, throwing their best Soul Train moves. Dee grins, eyes glinting, and leans in. “Go get your man, baby!”
It’s not in the choreography. I don’t care. I break from formation and strut toward May, pointing right at him, wagging my finger, beckoning him onstage. He shakes his head, laughing, but I see the flush creeping up his cheeks. May plays bashful, hands up like,oh, not me, but it's pure theater. The second he steps into the light, his entire body changes, posture straight, chin lifted, ready to play.
We meet at center stage just as the verse hits. For a split second, I hesitate. I want to get this right. No fumbles, nodoubts. May sees it, smiles, and mouths, “You got this.” I exhale, and suddenly the years of running, the months of what-ifs, and all the nights spent wishing for this exact moment fall away. All that matters is him, right now, his hand in mine.
We fall into step. May’s always been the better dancer, no surprise there, and he leads with a confidence that almost makes me miss my cue. But he never lets go, and somehow, we sync. Hip rolls, spins, a ridiculous grapevine step that I screw up, which he smooths over with a wink. The queens behind us snap into a backup routine, filling the stage with red and green, but all I see is May, laughing, eyes shining. The world blurs at the edges.
We keep dancing, neither of us caring that we’re off-beat half the time, that the crowd is chanting, “KISS! KISS! KISS!” I’m barely holding it together, wanting nothing more than to let this moment stretch on forever.
Then the song hits its final crescendo.
My pulse roars in my ears. I know this is it. The lights peak, the crowd waits, and May, my May, is right in front of me, electric and shimmering in the spotlight, eyes wide and glitter-bright with the rush of it all. So I move.
I take his hand.
He raises an eyebrow, surprised, probably thinking I’ve lost the choreography. But I step in, slide my arm around his waist, and with a practiced, careful strength I didn’t know I had, I dip him.
Right there. In front of all of Sleighbell Springs.
Gasps ripple through the room as his body arcs with mine, the stage lights catching the rhinestones on both our costumes and scattering little rainbows across his cheekbones. He lets out the softest breath, stunned and beautiful, eyes locked on mine like I’ve cracked open the world. We freeze there, suspended, his weight solid in my arms, my body holding himlike he’s always belonged there. The music cuts, the spotlight tightens, the whole club holds its breath.
And all I see is him. My heart pounds, breath caught in my throat, but I don’t hesitate. Not this time. Not with him.
“I love you,” I whisper, low and sure, carried into the hush. “I love you so damn much, May. Always have.”
His lips part, eyes softening in a way that makes my chest ache. He lifts a hand, fingers brushing my cheek like he’s checking that I’m real. “I love you too,” he murmurs. “God, Miles, I love you.”
