Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
Baby
I stare at the photo on my phone screen as if it’ll somehow change, but it doesn’t. Everyone is already at the club, and apparently, that includes Zeke. The girls all have giant, genuine smiles for the camera, but his is fake—like it’s a struggle just to tip the corner of his lips.
So why the hell did he even come?
“This exit?” Logan’s voice cuts through my silent dismay.
“Yeah.” It takes me a moment to confirm. I’m supposed to be giving directions, but I got a message from Audrey that’s made it difficult to focus.
“You sure?” he asks, something about my tone obviously making that hard to believe.
“I don’t have to be,” I tell him as I switch back to the navigation app. “Here.” I hold the phone screen in front of him, but he’s too busy driving to give it a solid look.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he repeats himself, and I sigh, unable to keep from being annoyed.
“Yes.” I’m not annoyed with Logan specifically, but the feeling is there regardless.
He doesn’t say a word. That also bugs me, but it’s probably for the best. I’m not in the mood. For anything. I don’t even want to go anymore. And I definitely don’t want Logan to come—to be anywhere near Zeke.
Only that is kind of the entire reason all of this started, isn’t it? Logan decided I needed help fending off my persistent ex. He’s probably wrong. I haven’t seen him in a while—he’s probably over me. Being out means he can torment other guys now.
But Logan doesn’t need to know that just yet.
I sigh.
Logan sighs louder, and I have to fight the urge to do it again—try and one-up him—as he pulls into a parking spot near the entrance of the club.
This is all so dumb. I have a fake boyfriend who’s pretending to be gay just so my sort-of-ex-boyfriend, who only recently stopped pretending he wasn’t gay, doesn’t try to hook up with me.
And we’re at a strip club called Fruit Punch, which is so fitting and altogether comical that I might actually laugh.
Only I don’t. The silence in the truck feels like it’s getting heavier, so I move to get out before he can pester me about the sudden hostility I’m displaying.
I try to climb down too quickly, and am reminded just how humongous his tires are as I stumble.
Feels like a personal attack from the universe, a poor attempt to humble me or something.
Not that it’s even necessary. I have no pride left at the moment.
I feel about one inch tall as I trudge my way up to the bouncer at the door.
After we’re allowed inside, I stop in front of another door, the sound of the pulsing music louder and telling me we must be close to all the action. When I turn around to face Logan, he’s frowning, and it helps me form the words I don’t want to say. “You can go home if you want to.”
His eyes roll, and I take that personally. There’s no room for his irritation, not while mine is demanding so much attention.
“Fine.” I push the door open and regret it immediately.
There’s a lot going on. So many abs and limbs all shiny and slicked with oil.
I suppose this is what I expected, but still.
Seeing it in person is different. I think about checking on Logan, but hold back the urge.
I didn’t ask him to come here. In fact, I gave him several outs—he chose this.
If he has his own regrets, that’s on him.
But the worry starts to fester and I decide that I need a drink before I look for Audrey.
“You know, it is ladies’ night,” the bartender says as soon as I approach the bar.
“Are you saying I’m not pretty enough to be a lady?” Guys aren’t typically allowed here on Thursday nights, but Audrey got permission. She’s spending a lot of money to have her get together here, so they didn’t seem all that bothered to let us in.
Plus, it’s not like I’m the only guy here. The dancers and the rest of the staff are fairly manly. Plus Logan. And Zeke.
My stomach tightens. I need that drink pronto.
“The guy at the door wouldn’t have let me in if it wasn’t okay, right?”
“I guess not.” He smiles, setting down the cocktail he just finished for someone else. “Know whatcha want?”
“Something fruity,” I say before I can think better of it. He laughs, settling a nerve or two of mine.
He winks. “My specialty.”
“No vodka, though.” I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to handle vodka again.
He turns his attention to Logan, and my stomach flutters, those settled nerves once again fraying. I knew he was there, right behind me, but I was trying to focus on other things.
“I’ll have the same,” Logan says, leaning over my shoulder a bit so he doesn’t have to raise his voice too much. I know we just got here, but his voice is already telling me that he’s not having fun. How could he—I’ve made it so he couldn’t even if he wanted to.
I don’t know where Zeke is, but the hairs on the back of my neck are telling me that he’s close. I should tell Logan, but don’t. He’ll find out soon enough anyway.
Maybe Logan’ll skip the wedding altogether, get the whole show over and done with tonight instead.
I can’t decide if I want that or not.
I let my eyes wander in front of me, trying to find something distracting.
Like our bartender. He’s tall and lanky, something kind of like me if I were stretched out a few more inches.
His hair is even the same length as mine.
But mine is prettier—he could do with some highlights, turn his boring, dirty blonde into something brighter.
It’s too straight. Overall, he’s twunk where I’m more twink.
His sleeveless tank top lets him show off his toned frame.
It’s his nametag that that gives me the distraction I was looking for. Jax Juicy.
“You guys take your theme pretty far here, huh?”
He lets a smile grow at the smalltalk. “Nah. It’s just that I’m pretty juicy, so…” Jax trails off with a shrug and a wink pointed Logan’s way this time. He’s either hitting on him or just being friendly. Either way, no.
“Can you go find Audrey?” I ask him, knowing he’ll say yes. And he does, but not before giving me another frown.
It’s not until he turns his back and walks his way into the crowd that I realize how terrible an idea it was to send him through that mess. The handful of almost naked men might make him uncomfortable. There’s also the excessively horny crowd of women. And Zeke!
“Shit!” I say much too loudly.
The bartender raises a brow at the outburst. “Trouble in paradise?”
I have no desire to talk about my boy troubles with a guy named Juicy.
Not that Mr. Juicy minds. “He’s cute.”
I bristle at that. I don’t even know if I should be this jealous—Logan might not even like other guys. It’s not like this one here has a chance. “I know.”
“Boyfriend?”
I take too long to answer, and he assumes the worst. The pitying smile isn’t something I want.
“Straight boy who got curious?”
It confuses me that he’d jump there. We walked into a male strip club together, and somehow, Logan still gets clocked as being not at all interested in me.
“He’s…” I don’t know. Curious might be the right word.
Experimenting, having fun—I genuinely have no clue.
My prolonged silence has the world’s nosiest mixologist nodding his head.
“We’ve all been there.”
I think he’s trying to be comforting, but mostly he’s adding to my depression.
“Has he gone down on you?”
“What?” I know I heard him right, but that’s not the kind of question I’d expect from a stranger.
“Curious guys kinda operate on the basis that a hole is a hole, but if he’s had a taste of dick and didn’t run away, then I’d—”
“That’s—you—” I struggle to find the words I need. “It’s really none of your business.”
He rolls his eyes, finally placing two tall, colorful drinks in front of me. “Something to think about then.”
“You… talk a lot.” Too much and with absolutely no filter. I can’t imagine he gets many tips.
“Yeah, I know. It’s why I’m stuck bartending.
I’m actually a dancer, but I’m not allowed to do private shows anymore—too many complaints.
” He rolls his eyes. “I still get to work the stage a few times a night, but after my last fiasco in one of the dark rooms—which was not entirely my fault, mind you—my boss said I’d be better off either dancing or talking, but not both at the same time. Can you believe that?”
I really, truly can.
“I mean, I get punched in the face by some asshat, and I’m the one who gets punished? I didn’t even say anything that bad—like, raviolis don’t smell horrible. Would you feel insulted if someone told you that you smelled like a can of Chef Boyardee?”
I’m not sure what he wants me to say—it was hard enough trying to follow along up to this point.
“I could have said he smelled like… something that smells disgusting, I don’t know, but—”
“Jax,” a deep voice cuts the rambling short, and Jax himself lights up like he’s been blessed.
I can understand why. The guy is fully dressed, so I doubt he’s one of the performers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if people threw bills at him anyway.
Maybe it’s the suit. All the bouncers are wearing similar attire, but his is all black, and it very much works for him.
He’s tall, dark, and handsome personified.
“Hi, Daddy,” Jax greets him with a flirty little lilt in his voice that tells me they’re definitely not related.
The bouncer must be used to it—his blank expression doesn’t falter as he tips his head towards a few girls waiting to order drinks.
“Right.” Jax blows out a heavy breath. “Pay me so I can get back to work.” He holds his hand out for me, but I have zero bucks on me.
Lucky me, there’s a tab under Audrey’s name. “Thanks,” I say as I grab our drinks, choosing to be polite despite the mildly unpleasant personality.
“Yup. Oh, and remember, if he doesn’t eat your ass, you should leave his!”
I know I’m blushing as I walk away. Maybe I’m crazy, but it makes sense. I mean, not that last bit, but Mr. Juicy is right—being a guy who likes sucking dick and eating ass is more than a little fruity. I think.
I consider myself lucky when Logan finds me, because I didn’t know where I was going.
“Still pissed?” he asks, and I purse my lips, holding his drink hostage as I think about it.
“I guess not.” Maybe Jax did deserve a tip. His babbling seems to have helped me get over myself a bit. “But Zeke’s here.”
Logan smiles knowingly, ignoring the drink I hold out for him so he can put his hands on my waist instead. “I just met him—figured that had something to do with the ‘tude.”
“Hm. You must be talking about somebody else, because I have been an utter delight.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles, his face leaning over mine. “That’s true.” His lips press against mine, granting me a kiss right here in the middle of this crowded room. It has the remainder of my so-called ‘tude melting just like that.
Zeke would never have done something like this. This is more than a bi-curious man trying things out—it has to be. It certainly feels like more.
I feel dazed, just overwhelmingly happy and weightless as he pulls back to smile at me. “Yup,” he says as he glances over my head. “He was watching us.”
Oh. Right.