Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Brett Michael Douglas
I palm my cock the second I’m in the dressing rooms. My head lands against the wall behind me with a thud.
“Fuck me,” I mutter.
“Um, no thanks. We’re not on that level.”
I nearly jump out of my skin as Angelo’s deep voice hits me. “Dammit!”
He smiles as he twirls the fidget spinner in his hand. “No need to get loud. I can hear you just fine.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t hear you.” I adjust my pants, hoping the erection will die quickly.
Being startled half to death should help.
Then again, a single thought about the cutie downstairs and… yep, it’s coming back to life. This is really going to be a disaster if I don’t get my shit together.
“What has you so worked up? You were supposed to be going to get us something to drink. Did you forget?”
I shake my head as I drop down onto the beanbag in front of me. My legs extend out enough so that I can kick the tip of his shoe. At my tap, he scowls.
Laughing at the look, I fold my arms and lean my head back again. This time it lands on the cushion of the chair.
“I did forget. It was for a valid reason though.” Before he can ask, I share the information freely. “Saw someone that looked like Sable. Decided to tag him in before he could get to me.”
“Ahhh. I thought Sable wasn’t coming in today.”
“He wasn’t supposed to. You know how he likes to mix it up. I didn’t question it. Instead, I walked up behind him and lifted him in a big-ass bear-hug.”
“Okay. So you two were playing tag, and you got distracted?”
I wince. “It wasn’t Sable.”
Angelo drops his spinner between his legs. It bounces off my shoes, then rolls until it hits the edge of the carpet. I watch it closely, my eyes not wanting to see the look of shock I’m sure my friend is wearing.
Given that Angelo and I started working here the same month, it was obvious we’d become close.
Three years and a lifetime of late nights later, I consider him one of my best friends.
It’s great most days. I have his support, and he has mine.
We’re usually on the same shift too, which means our free time is synced.
But on days like this, where I fuck up and he has to hear about it after the fact—yeah, those days suck. I hate getting lectures from him.
“You know, if you two would end this game,” he starts.
I rise up until he can see my scowl. “Not a chance! You know how much Sable relies on the game to keep him from getting anxious. Ever since we’ve started, he’s been doing better.”
Angelo hums his agreement as he reaches down to grab the spinner again. He twirls it a few times before replying with, “You’re right.”
I’m so shocked by his words I lean forward and land on all fours. Positioned between his legs, I stare up at my friend.
“Ignore the position and repeat yourself.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I’m definitely forgetting the position. It’s not me that got your dick hard a few minutes ago.”
“REPEAT!” I shout as if declaring war.
“I said, you’re right. But only about the calming Sable thing.”
“Any small victory counts. Besides, I know that I messed up by hugging the stranger. He screamed so loud I was afraid security would come in.”
“Wow,” he says slowly. “That’s messed up.”
“Yeah, it is. But I apologized a bunch and tried to make nice with him.”
“I’m sure you did.” He points to my body. “How about you go back to your chair instead of looking like you’re about to beg to suck my dick.”
Pushing up, I give myself enough momentum to send me tumbling back into the bag behind me. “Better?”
“A million percent. Now tell me what this person looked like and why they were even here. The only people that would have been around were the… the new hires. Holy shit. Are you about to break your own self-imposed rules for this guy?”
The self-imposed rule he’s talking about is the fact that I refuse to sleep with anyone who gets hired on at the club. If you come as a guest, you’re fair game. But to get a job here, where I have to see you regularly, means you’re off limits.
Except the guy from tonight is definitely proving to be an exception. I knew it the minute he turned around. Whatever reason he’d been here, I wanted to give him one to come back for.
“I think I might,” I admit to him.
“Not sure if I want to encourage you or not. Last time was rough.”
His words have me stopping short in my thoughts about the man I’m already crushing on. Memories of my ex, Carlisle, fill my mind. The guy started here about six months after me. He was charming and acted as if I walked on clouds.
But then I admitted to him what kind of relationship I really wanted.
He bailed quicker than I’d ever seen. While I thought he was going to get us some drinks to celebrate my confession, he was packing up his apartment, quitting his job, and high-tailing it out of the city with my credit card in hand.
The asshole racked up three grand before my bank reached out. They were worried, rightfully so, and offered to halt everything immediately.
“Let’s not talk about Shit-For-Brains,” Angelo says after realizing he’s taken my mind to a dark place.
I laugh and shake my head. “Please. I’d rather think about positive things. Like how the guy I met has his first shift tonight. I think he might even come a little early to get settled. If you’ll cover for me, I’ll show him around.”
“Is that code for fuck him in the back rooms?”
“There will not be any fucking tonight, Angelo. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
My friend shrugs as he stands. “Come on. We’ve still got to do our weight training before it’s time to do our pre-show ritual.”
The ritual he’s talking about is us playing Mariah Carey at full volume in the soundproof dressing room with a few of the guys. We all shout and dance around the room until we finish a minimum of three songs. For some reason, that’s the lucky number that usually gets us pumped.
I take the hand he extends my way and let him pull me up. “Thanks,” I say as I clap him on the shoulder with my other hand. “Now it’s time to show you how I got these pretty muscles. I know you want to have some of your own.”
Angelo’s laugh follows me out the door. He doesn’t need any help in that department. The guy’s just as cut as I am. It’s one of the major draws for the guests who come to see us take our clothes off night after night.
Our weight session goes how most of them do. We focus for about half an hour, then it turns into a contest of who can beat their PR on whichever random exercise is chosen. I don’t manage to beat my record, though I’m not all that upset about it.
My focus is on what’s to come. The opportunity to see Konnor again has me buzzing with energy. I’ve never felt such instant attraction to someone else before. From his long hair to his piercingly dark eyes, everything about him turns me on.
The rest of the day moves at a snail’s pace. All I want to do is check on whether or not the man of my dreams is here. And I’m kind of hoping he’s ready for everything I have to offer. I’m not an easy partner, but I’ll be the best fucking boyfriend, husband, and lover he’s ever had.
Is it too soon to think like that? Probably.
I’ll try to tone it down when I ask him to be mine later. Gotta lock him in before any of the other guys try to date him. They can’t have him. He’s mine.
The final notes of “Fantasy” peter out. It’s swiftly replaced by our heavy breathing and frenetic energy.
Everyone is ready to get the night going.
We’ve got about twenty minutes until we start to open the doors.
After that, everyone has to get into place or else you get the wrath of our producer, Freddie.
It’s plenty of time for me to hunt down Konnor for a moment.
I nod at Angelo, who rolls his eyes even as he walks over to help me with my plan.
“We’re not going to force him if he doesn’t want to be alone with you,” he immediately says once he’s close enough to whisper.
Rearing back, I scowl. “Dude, no. I’m not forcing anything. There was an energy there before. You didn’t see it, but it was epic.”
“Okay, Mr. Epic Energy. Let’s go find your boy.”
Oh, fuck.
Angelo has no idea just how right those words are. Or at least, how right I want them to be. It’s no easy task finding a boy of my own to maintain a relationship with. In fact, it’s pretty much impossible considering I don’t have one.
But maybe, just maybe, the universe was telling me to wait. Maybe I needed to be patient for Konnor to make it to me.
A few of the guys wave to us as we leave. They know I’m not the type to stay and wait out the clock. I’ve got to keep moving or I’ll crash. My energy needs constant feeding on show nights.
We reach the main area where everyone is hustling around to make sure the chairs are just right, the couches are all perfect, and the staff has their fake money ready to hand out to the guests.
I spot him the second we make it down the stairs.
He’s off to the side wearing the same uniform as the rest of the crew, yet somehow he makes it look like high fashion.
My eyes eat up every inch of him from the perfect bun on the top of his head holding back that long hair, to the studs in his ears and the rings on his fingers.
He’s a walking fantasy. I want to peel off each item piece by piece until I get the chance to taste him. To have him begging me to come and asking repeatedly to be filled.
The vision of him nearly sends me stumbling with need. I straighten myself before I can truly fall down, but Angelo doesn’t miss it.
“Falling head over heels already,” he jokes as he stays beside me.
I shake my head. “No jokes. I need to make a better second impression than I did a first. He’s going to run scared if he sees the real us.”
My friend stops me with a hand to my bicep. “If he doesn’t like the real you, then he’s not worthy of your time. You can’t pretend to be someone else just to have him.”
“That’s not what I meant. I want to not be the creepy guy who grabs strangers. And for you to not hum the wedding march when I introduce you. That’s it, okay? I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can’t.”
Again.
Neither of us has to say the word for it to be understood. He’s been with me through all the terrible relationships. My friend knows I will often give up parts of myself to fit what I think the other person wants.
We agreed I wouldn’t let it happen again after the last time. It’s not worth the short time that things seem ‘good’ between me and whoever I’m dating.
Once Angelo lets me go, we close the last bit of distance between us and Konnor. He’s talking to Roscoe, another one of the dancers. When he turns our way, his mouth drops open.
“Hi, Konnor. Excited for tonight?” I ask him while standing as close as I can without crowding him.
Roscoe looks between us before turning to Angelo. “I should go, right?”
Angelo nods. “Probably for the best.”
Konnor’s face scrunches, like the entire interaction confuses him. When he looks to Angelo for an answer, my friend chuckles.
“Brett isn’t good with sharing. First thing you should know.”
“I guess that is good information. If we ever happen to be around one another while eating, I won’t dare ask for a taste.”
The words nearly make me groan. My face has to give him some hint to how sexual I took his words because he blushes and spins away as if to leave.
Reaching out, I stop him by taking his hand in mine. “Don’t leave,” I plead.
“Why?” he asks, only half turning to look back at me.
Angelo takes a step back, which gives me the space to move closer.
“Because I enjoy talking to you. Because earlier I scared you, and I want to make a better impression than that. Because I like you, Konnor. And I really don’t want anyone else thinking they’ve got a chance with you. Did I give enough reasons?”
He nods slowly, as if under a spell. Angelo pats my back to signal he’s giving us some privacy. He’ll also help keep the nosy vultures we call castmates away while I make sure this cutie sticks around after showtime.