“About six months,” Cory said, scratching his chin. “One of the nurses I work with sponsored me after we hooked up onGrindr.”
“You were that good, huh?” John said.
“I guess.” Cory blushed.
John bumped into him with his shoulder, smiling. He and Cory had been incredibly close all through high school and up through college, but they’d drifted apart when Cory had gone to medical school and John had done his thing at the police academy.
Lately Cory had been making an effort to reconnect, and John was glad. He liked his friends from work, but sometimes it got a little annoying being the only gay guy in the group.
Even though Mike was incredibly easy to talk to.
Walking into the club, John grinned when he saw that once again Max was manning the desk. Didn’t the poor guy ever get any time off?
“Mr. Wilhelm, John, welcome back,” Max said, smiling at them. His teeth were bright white and John wondered if he’d had them brightened at the dentist since the last time he saw him.
“Hi, Max,” John said.
“John here is my plus one today,” Cory said, clapping his hand on John’s shoulder. “That’s allowed, right?”
“It’s perfectly allowed. Your membership entitles you to bring a guest, though if John keeps coming here he will eventually be asked to apply for membership.” The words were accompanied by a friendly smile, but John still flushed. He didn’t like the implication that he was freeloading.
“Keeps coming here?” Cory asked, looking between John and Max. “How many times have you been here, exactly?”
“Just two,” John said, his face burning as he looked pointedly at the space between the two men staring at him. “The guy who invited me the first time called me last week to hook up again. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Well, if you say so.” Cory turned to Max. “So we’re all set to go in?”
Max nodded. “Go right ahead.”
Cory grinned, placing his hand on John’s back and leading him into the club. John looked around curiously. It felt completely different to be there without Carter.
“Do you want to get a drink before we check out the action on the first floor?” Cory asked.
“Sure,” John replied.
They headed to the bar. John ordered a beer while Cory chose a pinot noir, the bartender stamping their hands with a bright purple stamp after handing them their drinks. John lifted his hand and looked at Cory with a questioning expression.
“You’re not allowed to join in downstairs if you’ve been drinking. They do breath tests for the heavier scenes, but this is an easy way to keep track of people coming down from the bar. You didn’t notice it last time you were here?”
John shook his head. “No, we didn’t go downstairs. He booked a room on the third floor both times.”
Cory whistled. “So you bagged yourself a sugar daddy. Good for you.”
“What?” John was confused.
“The rooms up there are expensive,” Cory explained. “They’re not even available to regular members. How old was this guy, anyway?”
John scrunched up his forehead, trying to think how old Carter might be. “Late thirties, maybe?” he said. Carter didn’t look old, but he definitely wasn’t in his twenties or early thirties.
“What’s his name?” Cory asked, taking a sip of his wine.
“Carter Peterson,” John said. Cory’s eyes widened.
“The guy who looks like a werewolf?” he asked.
John nodded. Carter hadn’t made any effort to hide the fact that he was a werewolf, but John guessed it made sense that people assumed he was human. Common knowledge said that werewolves weren’t into humans. He didn’t correct Cory’s assumption.
“He was nice,” John said, cradling his beer in his hand and looking out at the room. It was a fairly busy night, and if it hadn’t been for all the leather and latex it could have been any upscale bar.
