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Paul bends toward me. “Did you like it?”

I look at Mateo hanging off Brad, hazy-eyed and smiling like he is somewhere else again.

“Yeah,” I say. “It was great.”

Paul watches me a beat too long, but Alby claps his hands before he can ask anything else.

“All right, boys. Where next?”

Brad’s grin widens. “Have you two been to Wet?”

Paul’s arm tightens around my waist.

“Not in a few years,” he says.

Alby lights up. “Oh, then we have to go. It’s absolutely scandalous!”

Alby walks backward for half a block heading toward Wet, explaining rules like he’s preparing us for combat.

“Do not make eye contact with anyone outside the group,” he says. “They’re all hustlers.”

Brad nods seriously. “Sweet boys, mostly. But hustlers.”

“Keep your money in your pocket,” Alby says. “If you touch it, you bought it. If they touch you, you bought it.”

I look at Paul.

His smile is back to wallpaper.

“So why are we going?” I ask.

Alby laughs. “For the atmosphere.”

We pass my old bar before anybody answers better. There’s a new guy on my platform, smoother than me, darker, moving slow while the same bartenders pour the same drinks for the same crowd of men pretending they’re not measuring bodies and bank accounts.

I feel Paul’s hand close around my forearm.

“Are you really okay with this?” he asks.

“It’s just a strip bar, right? I’ve been to a few.”

“It sounds seedier than I remember.” His thumb moves once against my skin. “We can leave whenever you want.”

When we approach Wet, it’s quieter than I expect. A discreet sign. Dark windows. Blue light leaking through the door when Brad opens it.

“Here we go,” Paul says.

He tries to sound playful. He just sounds tense.

Inside, a blank wall sends us up a curved staircase to a small bar that looks unimpressive until I notice the shower behind it—and the man inside it—and the man’s erection.

“Goddamn, that’s big.”

The dancer sways under the showerhead, water streaming down his body. His cock moves opposite his hips, slinging water and shadow. The fucking thing could change the tides.

Paul makes a choking sound beside me. Mateo grins like I’ve passed a test.

Alby turns, delighted. “No eye contact unless you mean it.”