CHAPTER 4
Gabe picked up his phone, stared at the blank screen, then placed it back on the bar.
That was the fifth time he’d checked his phone in the last ten minutes, even though it was right there in front of him; he wouldn’t have missed a call or text.
He groaned, feeling a bit disgusted with himself.
He’d never “sat by the phone” waiting for a guy to call.
A light smack on his back made him jump and swear. “Shit.” He looked at the man who sat down on the stool beside him. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
Dane smiled. “Wasn’t sneaking.”
Dane Chambers. Twenty-two. Jet black hair with eyes almost as dark.
Body of a god. Hot as fuck. He showed up at the club barely two weeks after Gabe, carrying some serious baggage he hadn't yet unpacked for Gabe. Despite that, the two quickly became friends. Dane’s first night on stage at the Phoenix nearly knocked superstar Logan off his pedestal.
The man had a passion for the dance Gabe had never seen before—and the body and talent to match it.
Gabe absently picked up his cell again, then immediately put it down, his fingers fidgeting.
“Expecting a call?” Dane asked.
“Huh?” Gabe glanced at the phone and shrugged. “Oh.” He shook his head. “No.”
Dane looked skeptical as Gabe tinkered with the device again. “Saw you on the floor last night,” he smirked. “Mauling that poor guy. Was there anything left when you got through with him?” Dane chuckled.
“I wasn’t mauling him.” Gabe pondered it, shrugged, and grinned. “Well, maybe a little. But it didn’t go anywhere. We didn’t… fuck.”
“And who made that call?” Dane teased. “Him, right?”
“Why him?”
“I may be new here, but I know when you’re up for fucking. And you were so… up… last night.” He laughed.
Why deny it? Gabe scratched his temple, smiling. “Yeah, I was.”
“And he wasn’t?”
“I think he kind of was,” Gabe said. More than kind of.
Out on the dance floor, the man was as hard as Gabe.
And he sure wasn’t pushing Gabe’s hands away.
That doesn’t mean he wanted to fuck. It was possible for some people to get aroused without wanting to take it further.
At least, half the men who came to the club were just there to get worked up from watching.
It was a pressure-free erotic experience.
“So, what stopped you?”
Gabe shrugged. “It was his first time in a strip club. I think the place kind of overwhelmed him.”
“Why didn’t you take him someplace else?” Dane asked.
“I offered. He’s new to the city, so I offered to take him out on the town and show him around.
” He sighed. “I think he wanted to go, but he said he had to get home.” He laughed briefly, feeling a little regretful.
“Maybe I was too much for him. Probably shouldn’t have come on so strong to a newbie. I may have scared him away for good.”
Last night’s text left a hopeful spark inside Gabe, but come morning, would Cole be over the excitement of the previous night? What if he didn’t call or text anymore? Or never came back to the club?
You’re getting awfully worked up over a guy you just met last night.
Dane looked at him, a teasing smirk on his face.
“What?”
“You really like this guy, and you’re afraid you blew it.” He nudged Gabe. “Aww, that’s so cute.”
“Shut up,” Gabe laughed. “He was cool, okay? Like, someone I could be friends with, talk to, not just…”
“Fuck?”
“Yeah. Not just fuck.” Gabe shook his head, then chuckled. “I mean, I really want that, too. But maybe… not only that.”
“Do you have his number?”
“Yeah…”
“But you don’t want to call too soon and seem clingy and desperate.”
Gabe smiled. “Exactly.”
“Understandable,” Dane replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I mean, who wants a guy to call the next morning and show interest beyond the previous night's hookup?”
“I told you, we didn’t hook up,” Gabe said. “We didn’t do anything.”
Raising an eyebrow, Dane pursed his lips. “Looked like you were doing something on the dance floor.”
“Yeah, dancing.”
“That wasn’t just dancing. You two were getting it on, big time.”
Gabe agreed. Cole had shown no signs of wanting to stop—so why did Gabe stop? He decided to leave the floor and go back to the bar. Had he hoped Cole would want to go somewhere more private and… finish what they started on the dance floor?
“Even so,” Gabe sighed. “It didn’t go anywhere. I’m just hoping…” He turned the phone over in his hands. “… that he will consider my suggestion.”
“What suggestion?”
“I, uh…” Gabe smiled sheepishly. “I suggested he come to work here.”
“You did?” Dane arched his brow. “And… what did he say?”
“He kind of shot down the idea, at first.”
“At first?”
“After he went home, he texted me and said he was thinking about it.”
Dane squinted. “He texted you after he went home?”
“Yeah.” Gabe frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” Dane smiled. “It’s just… at least you know he wasn’t just trying to get away from you when he left. Or else, he wouldn’t have messaged you.”
Gabe had thought about that, too. “I didn’t have his number until he sent the text,” Gabe mused. “I mean, I gave him mine before he left, but we didn’t exchange numbers.”
Dane smiled. “Perhaps he wished he had given you his number, and texting allowed him to do so subtly.”
Laughing low, Gabe shook his head. “I think we’re reading too much into that text.”
“Maybe.” Dane shrugged. “Maybe not.”
The cell vibrated in Gabe’s hands, and he jumped, dropping it on the bar, then snatched it up again quickly. He answered without checking who was calling. “Hello?” His heart raced way too fast, beating wildly against his ribs. This was crazy—he shouldn’t be this excited.
Logan’s voice came over the line, and Gabe’s excitement deflated like a punctured balloon. He listened, trying to focus on the man’s words rather than his own disappointment, responded accordingly, then hung up.
“Logan.” He set the phone down, embarrassed that his disappointment was so obvious. “He has some things to do; he’ll be about an hour late tonight.”
Dane ducked his head and chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.” Dane looked at him. “You’re so cute.”
Gabe rolled his eyes and laughed. “Shut up.”
Cole lay in bed late into the morning, just staring at the ceiling. With the start of a new day, last night felt… surreal. Like a dream. Gabe didn’t seem real. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe Cole hadn’t gone to the strip club, and it was all just some wild fantasy he’d imagined.
That “possibility” didn’t stop Cole from checking his phone every five minutes, though. He didn’t know what he expected to find each time he picked up the cell or what he hoped to find. A missed call or text from Gabe?
Cole groaned and sat forward, rubbing his face.
The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that he’d slept through the night without any nightmares.
And the second? The “morning wood.” He rarely woke up so hard, but this morning, it was so intense that his entire groin ached, causing pain. He had no choice but to work it out.
A couple of hours after the fact, Cole told himself he wasn’t thinking of Gabe the entire time he was easing his suffering. But he suspected he might be lying to himself.
Cole crawled out of bed, showered, dressed, and headed to the kitchen.
As he made coffee, his thoughts drifted back to last night’s text.
I’m thinking about it. Once again, he wondered if he meant the job offer—or the dance.
Both? Either way, because of the message, Gabe would expect to hear from him.
Taking his coffee and a cinnamon Pop-Tart into the living room, Cole sat on the sofa and watched TV.
The television was a small, somewhat old set he’d bought from a pawn shop a couple of blocks away from the apartment building.
His basic streaming package didn’t offer much, but at the moment, it didn’t matter; he wasn’t paying attention to what was on screen anyway.
He could barely get down the Pop-Tart and coffee because of his nervous stomach.
If he decided to decline the job offer, he should let Gabe know.
It would be rude to just ghost him and leave him hanging without an answer.
But he didn’t know what answer to give. His savings wouldn’t last forever; he needed a job.
But stripping? Society made it seem like strippers were only a step above prostitutes.
Desperate souls with no dignity or self-respect.
Bottom of the barrel career. But it hadn’t felt that way in the Phoenix Club.
Gabe didn’t come across as desperate or lacking self-respect.
Quite the opposite, actually. Unless it was all a front, a carefully built facade. But Cole didn’t think so.
Even so, could he see himself as a stripper? Practically pimping himself out to horny men every night? What if some of them wanted private dances? Could he do that? Get that up close and personal with strange men who’d just as soon fuck him as look at him?
You didn’t have a problem getting up close and personal with Gabe.
That was different—wasn’t it? Gabe was the stripper, not some cock-hard customer lacking self-control.
Cole sensed he was talking himself out of the job. Maybe he should consider the “pros” of the job rather than just the “cons.”
He would make good money, probably a lot more than at a regular job.
He would be surrounded by gay men, so he didn’t have to hide his sexuality.
He would get the power trip of turning men on and making them want him.
You get to see Gabe every day. What if that turned out to be more Con than Pro?
Why would it?
He didn’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe this would turn out to be his dream job. Maybe the Phoenix Club would become the “home” he’d been searching for all these years.
Anything was possible… even if it wasn’t probable.
Cole picked up his phone. Time to fish or cut bait.
Gabe grabbed the phone on the first ring, checking the caller ID this time. Cole. His heart thudded wildly as he took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hello?” Somehow, his voice was as cool as a cucumber, with no hint he might be seconds from a full-on cardiac arrest. “Cole.”
Dane watched him from the “sidelines”, a teasing smile on his face.
“I’m still not sure about the job,” Cole said, his voice unsteady. “But, uh… maybe we can talk about it.”
“Great,” Gabe said with a grin that he was pretty sure stretched from ear to ear. “Do you want to come down to the club now? It’s pretty mellow now. Things don’t usually start to pick up until early evening.”
A long pause. Cole cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah… I guess I could come down there now. I’ll be there in about half an hour, if that’s okay.”
“Perfect.”
When the call ended, Gabe exhaled heavily, and Dane laughed. “I can’t wait to meet this guy.”
Gabe chuckled. “I may need you to do more than meet him.”
“What do you mean?”
Gabe turned the stool toward Dane and smiled. “I might need your help with the dance lessons.”
“Sure, no problem. But why do you need my help? Looked like you were doing pretty well on your own last night.”
Gabe shook his head, releasing another stiff breath. “I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I may need supervision when I’m around him. I don’t want to scare him off by being too…”
“You?” Dane grinned.
Gabe nodded. “Exactly.”