Friends With Benefits: Cole & Gabe (A Phoenix Club Prequel)

CHAPTER 1

The Phoenix Club.

The neon sign illuminated the dusk, casting a fiery-red glow over the faces of patrons entering the strip club.

Cole Young stood on the sidewalk outside, gazing up at the lit sign, which featured the silhouette of a naked man with wings.

The blinking lights made it appear as if the wings were moving up and down.

Every time the entrance doors opened, a surge of music exploded out, accompanied by the shouts and cheers of the rowdy male patrons.

Cole looked down as the doors swung open, and he saw a beautiful Asian boy on stage, his lean muscles glistening with glitter oil covering his whole body. His flesh-colored G-string made him appear completely nude.

A minor twitch in Cole’s pants. The boy was hot, but not what pushed his buttons. Honestly, Cole wasn’t sure what pushed his buttons. Maybe he would find out inside.

For nearly seven years, he’d been in survival mode, always feeling the need to look over his shoulder, even though he knew no one was there.

And before that... Well, that wasn’t something Cole thought about anymore.

It was a dark, dark place he’d spent these last few years burying as deep as he could, praying it stayed dead forever.

He couldn’t even allow himself to think about.

.. him. Because with him... came all the rest.

Cole took a deep breath and looked up at the sign again, the reddish glow bathing his face in crimson.

His mind hadn’t yet shifted gears since his “departure” from home seven years ago.

He simply kept moving, surviving, existing.

.. but not quite living. There hadn't been anyone of importance in his life since. .. well, not for a long time.

Friends came and went along the way. No love interests, though. No one to tie him to one place. A couple of times, he thought he might have found his forever home, so to speak, but it wasn’t long before he grew restless, feeling the need to move on.

Cole wasn’t clueless; it was his past that kept pushing him forward. In his mind, he knew that part of his life was dead and gone, but when he paused for too long, he felt the “tingle” at the back of his neck, the chill of ghostly fingers reaching for him from that dark void he’d left far behind.

No one was there. It was all psychological trauma. Still, when the sensations crept up on him, he had to move. It had been that way for years, constantly “going,” trying to escape the ghosts of his past.

Now he was here: New York City. He had traveled across the entire country, subconsciously trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and “home.” He couldn’t go any further—short of hopping a plane and fleeing to the other side of the world.

Cole wouldn’t rule it out, but he was tired of running.

He wanted a place to call home, real friends—a life.

Someone to love?

Not that. Not yet, at least. After nearly a decade, his heart remained scarred. Maybe someday he'd meet a man who could heal it. Maybe.

Cole watched the entrance doors open and close, struck by bursts of loud music and glimpses of the carnal world inside.

You think you’ll find all that—here? A gay strip club. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place where someone went to find a happy, fulfilling life with prospects of friendship and maybe even love. But then, that wasn’t why he was here.

Gabriel Smith clocked the customer the second he entered the club: early twenties, blond hair, hard body—lust-worthy—but to be honest, there were plenty of lust-worthy men in the club tonight.

Gabe couldn’t say what made him stand out.

Whatever it was worked like a powerful magnet, dragging Gabe’s baby blues straight to him like a helpless speck of flint.

His dark blond hair, though short, was slightly messy as if his fingers had made many passes through it.

A slight tingle tickled Gabe’s own fingers as he imagined the short, soft strands sliding between his digits.

The man cast random glances at the stage where Jin whipped the crowd into a frenzy with his sleek, sexy body and “talented” performance. The kid—eighteen, maybe—had arrived at the club less than a week after Gabe and became an instant sensation.

Gabe hadn’t done so badly himself. As it turned out, he was pretty damn good at “shaking his thang” on stage.

He didn’t have much experience when he came to the club a month ago, but with a few pointers from Logan—the club superstar—he picked up his game and now had regulars who asked for him specifically.

Gabe planned to become the next club superstar… maybe even dethrone Logan.

He chuckled. Not likely. The man was a fucking sex god on stage—and off.

Gabe could attest to that. Some of their “lessons” had gotten pretty steamy, to say the least. Logan wasn’t one to take advantage of new dancers; Gabe had been full of “consent.” It was just some friendly fucking—Gabe’s favorite kind.

The newcomer paused at the club entrance and looked around anxiously as if he felt completely out of place.

In the short time he’d been at the club, Gabe had learned to spot the signs of a first-timer in the club.

The tension in the man as he lingered near the entrance indicated to Gabe that he was rethinking his decision and possibly about to flee.

That would be a damn shame, Gabe thought. He’d never tried to stop someone from leaving before, but suddenly, he became invested in keeping this one here. The pull was something he hadn’t felt before, and he desperately wanted to explore it further.

Wading through the crowded, handsy mob, Gabe headed toward the entrance, his attention fixed on the other young man who seemed about his age. He arrived just as the newcomer turned to leave and grabbed his arm, startling him.

Cole flinched slightly when a hand closed around his upper arm, stopping his retreat.

The grip wasn’t aggressive but still firm enough to halt him.

Just moments after entering, he decided this wasn’t the right place for him.

Having spent years in the closet and not trusting anyone enough to be himself, he had thought a big city club might offer both freedom and anonymity to relax and let his guard down.

At the last minute, he realized he probably should have gone to a regular gay club instead of a gay strip club.

The sexual energy here was… overwhelming.

He turned and was instantly captivated by a pair of baby-blue eyes. He’d always had a thing for eyes; it was often the first thing he noticed about a man.

“Sorry.” Blue-eyes flashed a charming smile that sent a heavy rush of blood straight to Cole’s groin, startling him so much that he flinched.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The man—about Cole’s age—maintained a light grip on his arm, his touch like fire against Cole’s skin.

He looked into Cole’s eyes, his smile twitching.

“I’m Gabe.” His voice was deep, yet almost suave, and his introduction felt like an invitation… but to what?

“Uh…” Cole cleared his throat. “Cole.”

“Don’t tell me you were leaving, Cole.” His grip softened and gently slid down Cole’s arm to his elbow. “You just got here.”

How did he know?

“I saw you come in,” Gabe said. “You look…” He squinted, his eyes catching the flashing lights, which somehow made the blue pop even more. “… overwhelmed. First time in a strip club?”

Cole swallowed, the man’s light grip scalding his elbow. “Uh... yeah. I’m...” He glanced anxiously toward the stage. “I’m not sure this is the place for me.”

“How will you know until you give it a chance?” he nodded toward the bar. “At least, let me buy you a drink. It’s really quite nice here. Lots of sweet boys,” he tilted his head and smiled sweetly, “like me, who will treat you so nice.”

He’s a stripper. Until that moment, Cole wasn’t sure if he was a dancer or a customer—he wasn’t dressed like the other strippers on the floor. Still, the man’s energy matched the club’s vibe, and Cole felt pulled into it, unsure how to escape the momentum that suddenly carried him away.

Cole allowed the man to lead him to the bar. It was crowded, but they found a couple of empty stools near the far end and took a seat.

“What’s your poison?” Gabe asked.

“Uh… beer.”

Gabe snapped to get the bartender’s attention, then hollered out their order. He looked at Cole, drawing him in with those eyes. “So…” He brushed the back of his fingers along Cole’s forearm. “What else?”

“What…” Cole swallowed, suddenly breaking out in sweat.

“You’re here.” Gabe leaned in without crowding him, his blue eyes softening with a quiet heat that warmed Cole’s blood. “Might as well enjoy yourself.”

His knuckles kept casually caressing Cole’s arm.

Cole let out a suppressed breath as the bartender set down their drinks.

He grabbed his beer, tempted to wipe the chilled glass all over his flushed face.

Instead, he took a few gulps of the cold drink, savoring the cool rush that spread through his chest and settled in his stomach.

Cole cleared his throat. “I’m not here for…

that,” he mumbled, taking another drink.

“I just wanted…” His words failed him. Wanted what?

Gabe gazed at him with the same question on his handsome face.

Cole stared back, noticing just how handsome he truly was.

He’d become mesmerized by his lovely blue eyes without really taking in the rest of him.

Gabe’s short, richly dark hair enhanced the soft blue of his eyes, bringing out their vibrance.

A thin skiff of dark stubble speckled his strong jaw—neat, not patchy.

His lips were full, but not too full, and the slightest shade of pink.

Cole looked away when he realized he was staring at the man’s mouth.

He took another long drink of beer as his clothes started to stick to his skin, and his heart beat unnaturally fast. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead, and he felt overheated inside his own skin, thinking he should get some air before he passed out.

But he didn’t move. Wasn’t sure he could move as Gabe stroked his arm and gazed at him, a faint smile on his lips.

“Wanna dance?” Gabe asked, with a slight abruptness that jolted Cole.

“Huh?” Cole nearly choked on a swallow of beer. He looked at the dance floor where couples gyrated against each other, hands wandering a bit too freely in some cases, and eyes glazed with lust. There was a pull in the freedom of it all, but Cole didn’t feel ready for that.

“I, um…” He shrugged. “I can’t dance.” It wasn’t a lie. He had never learned. After surviving hell, dancing had been the last thing on his mind.

“I bet you can.” Gabe looked him over, his smile stretching, crinkling his baby blues. “Something tells me, you’ve got moves even you’re not aware of.”

Cole was sure he was mistaken. He laughed nervously. “I doubt it.”

“Let’s find out.” Gabe slid off the stool and took his hand.

“What… I don’t…” Every muscle in Cole’s body resisted. “I can’t…” His eyes darted to the dirty dancers scattered across the floor. “… do that.”

Gabe chuckled and squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to. We’ll stick to the basics. Just regular dancing.” He made a V sign with his free hand. “Scout’s honor.”

Cole doubted this guy was ever a scout, but he found himself following him onto the floor without further resistance.