11. Bailey
eleven
Bailey
What does a straight guy who accidentally slipped, fell, and landed on another guy’s lips wear to a gay club?
I scoff, yanking shirts off hangers and launching them onto the laundry chair like they offended me.
“Shit.”
I trip over my high-tops and catch myself mid-fall, grabbing the doorframe like my life depends on it.
The shoes remain exactly where they are. Unbothered. Rude.
My heart rate increases, heat crawls up my neck threatening full panic.
I’m being ridiculous. It’s just a club. Just a gay club. A club that happens to have gay people that attend.
My phone chimes from the bedside table.
Nat: About to let myself in. Please be decent.
“Fucking hell.”
I grab my favorite black jeans and yank them on before she gets a show she didn’t pay for.
Okay, concentrate on shoes. You have to wear them so why not address the issue? We have… black, black with black, red, red with black, red with white, and pink.
Do the Easter Bunny Vans want to go to the club?
“Bays!” Nat yells from the front door. “Where are you?”
“Bedroom!” I reply, relieved she’s here.
She barrels in and stops dead in her tracks.
“Why aren’t you dressed?”
Her eyes drag from my face to my bare chest then to my feet and back up again. Wholly unimpressed.
“Jesus, Bailey.”
She sighs like I’ve just nutted on her dinner plate and storms toward my closet. “Move.”
I step aside as she starts rifling through my clothes like something might magically materialize that isn’t fucking black or dark gray.
“Where is that v-neck? The fitted one?”
“No fucking way.” She can’t be serious.
“Way.” She shoots me a look. “Where is it?”
I groan but grab it, holding it out like it’s cursed.
“You know I hate this thing.”
“You know you look hot in it. Put it on.”
Hot. Hot in a gay club? Hot in public? The panic returns, reminding me that I’m one bad decision away from demolishing the keystone that holds me together. I have no desire to be noticed tonight.
I yank the shirt over my head before I can talk myself out of it.
The fabric clings immediately. I pause, waiting for the ick to hit.
It doesn’t.
“Nat,” I deadpan, staring down at myself. “For fuck’s sake. You can see my nipples.”
“All mammals have them, Bailey,” she replies, completely unfazed. “You’ll survive.”
I turn toward the mirror but quickly decide against it. Nope.
“You look fucking hot, Bays,” she exclaims. “Seriously. You’ve got to stop hiding all that under baggy old tees and hoodies.”
I roll my eyes. Yeah, I workout a few times a week, but I’m more the does-he-do-cocaine looking type. With biceps.
Nat grabs my shoulders and spins me toward the full-length mirror. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel hot as fuck right now.”
I examine my reflection. It’s me, but it’s not a version of myself I’m familiar with. Unease creeps across my skin as I catch myself appreciating the way the thin fabric falls across my torso.
“Okay, so maybe it’s not as bad as I thought but Nat, we’re going to a gay bar and I’m wearing nipple beacons. You really think this is a good plan?” I wrap my arms around my stomach, trying to cover the vulnerability that’s clawing at me. Trying to ignore this new, uncharted version of myself.
This version…this is the one that appreciates brown eyes and kisses that taste of strawberry and wild ideas. The one I can never be.
“What’s on that beautiful mind of yours?” Nat asks, catching the hesitation.
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
She narrows her eyes.
“You’re crashing out, aren’t you?”
“No,” I huff.
“We’re just going to a club that happens to cater to queer patrons, Bays. You might fuck around and enjoy yourself, who knows.”
I manage to huff out a laugh, but it gets stuck in my throat.
And if he’s there? What then?
Thoughts of captivating brown eyes and a cunning smile I’m not sure I can resist hit me hard and fast.
My dick twitches in my jeans and panic floods my system.
Fuck.
Down, boy.
“You sure I don’t look like I’m trying too hard?” I ask earnestly. The thought of looking foolish in front of him makes me nauseous.
“You don’t.” She smiles and gives me a half-ass hug from beside me. “You do, however, look like you are about to sneeze. So, maybe fix your face?”
I laugh at that. A genuine, full-belly laugh. Damnit, Nat.
I wish I could tell her. I wish I could just unload every fucking encounter with him, moment by moment, until she understood my apprehension.
My thoughts are quickly interrupted.
“Shoes. I’m assuming your DNA didn’t change overnight, so tell me which pair of Vans you’re wearing.”
“High-tops. Red.” I confirm.
Nat feigns surprise, throwing her hand up to her face, “I’m shook.”
The uber smells like a truckstop bathroom and cherries. My stomach turns, threatening to ruin the night before it begins. Fucking gross.
“Okay, we’re meeting my friend Meg when we get there. Liam said he’ll be about thirty minutes behind us,” Nat says excitedly. “You’ll just velcro yourself to my side until your wingman arrives, okay?”
“Fine,” I say. But I don’t fucking feel fine. I feel like my entire world is about to be turned upside down. Like who I am will be indefinitely altered by walking through the doors.
“Relax, Bays. You’re going to love Meg. She’s brilliant and funny as hell, you two will hit it off.
Her girlfriend, Kaye, came out with us last time, but she has to work tonight, so I’m her unofficial date.
She’ll require my assistance because the ladies love her.
” Nat laughs and squeezes my hand in reassurance.
“I’m going to need a drink the moment we walk in that place, Nat. I mean it. My nerves are trying to jump out of this Uber as we speak.”
“I’ve got you. First one’s on me.” She smiles and nudges me with her shoulder, reminding me that I’m not alone.
We’re dropped off directly in front of the club, decreasing the amount of time I have to seriously consider chickening out.
Shit.
I’m in line to go into a fucking gay club and I kissed a guy just a few weeks ago and my dick liked it and my brain won’t stop talking about it. Oh, and I brought my nipples with me, out for a night on the town. Just the three of us.
The brick is painted with a thick rainbow stripe that I can’t pull my gaze from. Some part of me is afraid of what I might see if I examine it too closely. Maybe I’m fine with my black and white life. What’s wrong with boring? I like boring, straight Bailey just fine.
I almost drop my ID trying to hand it to the bouncer. My hands are shaking and I can’t help but do that stupid nervous laugh that sputters out of me. Liam says it sounds like a hyena.
Nat grabs my hand and pulls me through the doors, “Come on, babe. Let’s get you that drink. I’ll find Meg after you have your pacifier in your hand.”
She drags me through a sea of people, the smells of sweat, cologne, and perfume with the unmistakable note of alcohol floating through the space.
The air is humming with electricity but my body takes it as a threat, and not something to be excited about.
My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty enough to jerk it without lube.
I need that drink.
The bartender is stunning. Pale ivory skin covered in a glittering sheen that accentuates their icy blue eyes. A lacy tank top reveals sculpted pecs and abs.
What is going on with me?
I realize I’m staring when Nat shoves my drink at me.
My bad.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Nat says.
Oh, nothing. I just made out with a guy recently and now I’m checking out the bartender. No biggie.
“Nothing,” I lie.
Nat rolls her eyes. “Liar.”
“Come on. Let’s go find Meg.”
She leads me through the crowd toward the back of the club. Tall tables with alcohol unfriendly stools surround them in a dimly-lit area that screams debauchery.
Nat lets go of my hand and lets out a squeak loud enough I hear it over the music. She jogs toward a table where a stunning woman with bright eyes and dark hair sits, gingerly nursing a cocktail.
Her eyes light up when she sees Nat and within seconds she’s jumping off her seat to pull her in for an embrace.
I catch up with them in time to hear her say, “Oh my god you look phenomenal, Nat. I’ve missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you too.” Nat’s face glows with excitement as she pulls me toward her, hugging me to her side.
“Meg, this is Bailey. The one who hates crowds, clubs, and parties,” she teases.
“Oh, Bailey, it’s so good to finally meet you! I hate that it took so long for our paths to cross, but now’s as good a time as ever, I suppose.” Her eyes are kind, her smile matching the warmth in them.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Meg.” I find myself meaning the words. A sense of calm washing over me as I take a seat at the table.
Nat and Meg catch up as I down my drink and order another when a waiter comes by. My skin feels less restricting and I have only worried about my choice of shirt five or six times in the past few minutes.
“Bays, grab a stool from an empty table for Liam! He just pulled up,” Nat says with a smile.
I do as instructed, trying my best not to let my eyes wander to the mass of people on the dance floor. It’s easier to manage being at a table with friends than it is to be at a table with friends in the middle of a crowded gay club…bar. Semantics.
“Liam! Over here!” Nat waves until he sees us.
“Hey guys,” he says with a bright smile.
He’s so unbothered that it’s actually annoying.
“Hey Meg, long time no see. You look beautiful tonight.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet, Liam. Thank you. I’ll tell wifie you approve,” she winks.
His gaze falls to me and he does a once-over.
“Bays, what the fuck are you wearing?”
I groan, absentmindedly covering my chest with my arms. “Nat made me wear it.”
“And he looks fucking hot, Liam so don’t start shit if you’re not willing to take the fight up with me.”
“I love the shirt,” Liam teases.
“It’s bad enough that she dragged me here, the least you can do is not talk about my outfit,” I huff, crossing my arms.
“Calm your tits, Bays.”
“Fuck you, Liam.”
The entire table erupts into laughter and I can’t help but join them.