Jamie’s face lit up with a pleased smile and Tyler felt something inside of him melt, just a little bit. “Thanks for letting me join you guys,” Jamie said. “I really had a great time.”
“It was good to see you,” Tyler said, like he was admitting something he couldn’t quite believe. “Rowan, can you say goodbye to Jamie?”
Rowan ran over from where he’d found a cloth baby doll in a corner of the hollow tree. “See you soon, Jamie?” He asked, looking between Tyler and Jamie.
Tyler’s heart broke, just a little bit. He gave his soneverything, and yet he could see the way his blue eyes lit up at the possibility of having another loving grown-up in his life.
Just another reminder that he could try to give everything, and it would still never be enough.
“We’ll see him next weekend, kiddo,” Tyler said gently.
“Hug?” Rowan asked, his eyes on Tyler.
Tyler glanced at Jamie, who nodded deferentially to him even though his eyes were soft. “Ask him,” he said to Rowan, “and if he says yes, then you can hug him.”
Rowan turned to Jamie and threw his arms open. “Hug?” He repeated.
Jamie knelt down and opened his arms. “I’d love one, bud.”
Tyler had to look away as the hockey player circled his arms around his son’s small shoulders. He couldn’t stand to see the way Jamie watched him, his eyes holding questions Tyler wasn’t ready to answer.
Soft velvet dragged across Tyler’s bare, sweaty shoulder as he ducked through the black curtain into the dressing room.
Even if four years had passed since he’d set foot in The Blue Barn, everything about the strip club remained the same.
He’d picked up stripping on the weekends his junior year of college. The money had been too good to pass up, and he liked it. He loved to dance, and the hard, physical work required to maintain his strength and flexibility was a good balance to the rest of life.
When Tyler finally understood the reality of his expenses in Madison–especially knowing he needed to start saving for a long-term childcare solution for Rowan–he panicked. He’d hoped the coffee shop job and delivering groceries would be enough to cover their living expenses. He’d considered taking on another day job, but he didn’t want to sacrifice more of his time with Rowan.
Tyler had asked Sandra and Dotty if they’d be up for keeping Rowan’s baby monitor one night a week while Tyler worked a late shift at the club. It wasn’t ideal, but they were right downstairs in case Rowan woke up.
Tyler had been transparent with them about his work and his financial situation. Even on a slow night, he’d make enough money dancing to double what he’d made each week delivering groceries. To their credit, the retired women had met him with nothing but love and understanding. “She’s a night owl anyway,” Sandra had said with a kind smile, pointing at Dotty. “She can work on her crosswords with a hockey game on her laptop.”
He was still trying to figure out a way to thank them, to fullyexpress his gratitude for how much they were helping him and Rowan.
“How’s the crowd tonight?” Tyler asked Gio, another dancer who went by the stage name George of the Jungle. Gio sat at his station with a mascara wand in one hand and a vape pen in the other. He had flawless brown skin, and wore his thick hair swept back from his face. His body was bare except for a pair of tiny, glittering shorts, and his skin sparkled with the body glitter they were encouraged to wear. He’d met Gio when he first started dancing at The Blue Barn in college, and had been relieved to see a familiar face when he returned.
Gio made a noncommittal noise. “Average. There’s a bachelorette party on the left who are on their second round of shots, and a few suits in the back who are repeats.”
Tyler wrinkled his nose. “Is Handsy Dan out there?”
“Thank fuck, no.” Gio shuddered. “He always did have a thing for you, didn’t he?”
Tyler tried to play off his indifference, but they both knew Gio was right. Handsy Dan was the name the dancers had given a regular who’d been around for years. He was an older man who sat in the back of the room, and had a nasty habit of getting handsy with the dancers and waitstaff. Handsy Dan relentlessly propositioned the dancers for paid sex in the VIP room, but he wasn’t going to find anyone at The Blue Barn willing to risk their job or a solicitation charge.
Apparently, last year the dancers had brought up banning him, but he was an old friend of Eddie, the owner, and they were told todeal with him, whatever the fuck that meant.
Back when he was still in college, Tyler had shown up at work to find an envelope of cash at his station with a single white rose. It wasn’t the cash itself that was the problem–he didn’t mind taking extra cash from customers. There were some respectful regulars who understood the professional boundaries in place. But when the other dancers had seen the flower, though, they’dwarned him that the cash was from Handsy Dan. Then it happened again. And again.
Every time, Tyler gave the cash back.
Every time, he threw the flower in the nearest trashcan. Putting up with Handsy Dan was just a part of the job. Tyler was used to it.
He stood in front of his station mirror, pulling the sweaty bills from the waistband of the white jock he wore. He took in the gold highlighter on his cheekbones, the precise eyeliner across his upper eyelids, and the mascara darkening his already thick lashes. He surveyed his body: the toned, lean muscle he’d inherited from his mom’s side, the silly chicken tattoo on his left hip he’d let a friend do for practice, the dark hair trailing below his belly button.
It was odd, now, to do something so sensual with his body. Tyler barely had time to remember that he was an adult with sexual desires. He was finally coming out of the baby haze, when he’d been sleep deprived and so wrapped up in surviving that he’d barely considered his own needs.
He was starting to remember, now.
