6. Ari
SIX
ARI
The building the driver drops me off at is unfamiliar, but that was the point. I don’t want to go anywhere Will and I have been before.
I chose a club that I’ve never heard of, something unassuming and normal. No velvet ropes. No carefully curated debauchery. No familiar faces or staff trained to recognize us and cater to us while looking the other way. Just a faded neon sign and bass heavy enough to lose myself in.
The place isn’t big. It’s more of a bar than a club, but it’s clean and fairly busy for a weeknight.
I bet it’s packed on the weekends. There’s a long, curved bar along one side of the room, a few tall cocktail tables dotted around, and on the other side of the room is a large dance floor.
There’s a stage and several floating platforms with poles, suggesting performance nights and maybe professional dancers on the weekends to pump up the crowd.
Directly across from the entrance, farther back near the beginning of the bar area, is a curtained area that is either restrooms, or quiet rooms, or both.
Both are likely used for the same thing anyway—a slightly less public area to touch and be touched.
It’s perfect.
I feel a little exposed walking in and showing my ID to the bouncer, feeling eyes track me the second I step inside. I feel them skim over my bare arms and midriff, linger on my chest where the words “fuck toy” are catching the flashing lights from the dance floor.
Good. I want to be seen. Not as someone’s little brother. Not as someone fragile. Not as someone who needs to be watched or managed, or protected, or handled. Just—seen. And maybe wanted.
I didn’t dress flashy or too loudly, but I wore something that made me feel good about myself.
Something casual. And if it does enough of the advertising for me, because approaching people isn’t always my strength, then all the better for me.
And what’s more casual than a walking advertisement for power bottoming and the bulge of a poppers bottle in my pocket?
I head to the bar, trying to decide if I should open one of the apps that Will hates.
Well, William , not everyone attracts people like flies to honey.
Some of us need a little help to break the ice, and knowing there’s someone within a fifty-foot radius who is looking to hook up is a lot more comfortable than putting myself out there.
It seems I’ve gotten a little too used to the kind of places where there’s a bracelet that tells people what I’m down for, or having anything I am interested in shot down by a certain overbearing guard dog.
Stop thinking about him! Damnit!
“I don’t think you’re going to need that,” a deep, sultry voice says, and I almost drop my phone.
The flirtatious tone has me flicking my eyes up to meet a pair of light blues that run down my body appreciatively. A wicked grin spreads over his face when his gaze reaches mine, not one bit sorry to have gotten caught blatantly checking me out.
Okay, this I can work with.
Flirty bartender is a little taller than me, has wavy blond hair and a physique that suggests he spends a lot of time in the gym.
I usually prefer a leaner type of muscle, the kind that’s earned through working manual labor jobs most of his life, kept up by the occasional run and a habit of helping the roadies haul equipment between shows.
But this is nice, too. He seems like the type to throw me around a little bit if I asked him to.
Flirty bartender clears his throat. “I’m Julien.”
“Ari.”
“I’m guessing this is your first time here?”
I cock my head.
“I would have noticed a pretty thing like you.”
I laugh out loud, then lean in conspiratorially. “Does that line get you all the pretty boys?”
Julien winces and laughs. “Uh, no. Probably because I’ve never been dumb enough to say something like that out loud before.” His demeanor changing from aggressive flirt to awkward is kind of adorable.
“Sorry,” he says, still laughing at himself. “I actually meant it, not as a line, but… yeah. Nope. Forget that ever happened, please. Can I get you a drink or something?”
“Or something…”
He cocks a single brow, the flirty gleam in his eyes returning. “Alright then. Let me guess—Vodka?”
I nod.
“I’m thinking something simple, but top shelf. Sweet, but not too sweet.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Trust me?”
“To make me a drink based on your weirdly accurate profile? Sure.”
“Okay. Coming right up, Ari.”
I watch his ass as he turns and walks over to reach for a top-shelf bottle and a jar of cherries. Maybe I should ask him what his glute routine is. It wouldn’t hurt me to spend more time in the gym. I could get down with some gym bros.
I could get down with Julien for sure. And there’s no one here to stop me.
Like my thoughts are being projected into the universe to be heard by the only person in the world who could stop me, my phone rings. I stare Will’s name lighting up the screen, for several seconds before accepting the call.
“Where are you?” He asks. It almost sounds like he’s trying not to be a demanding twathead, but if that’s the case, he’s failing.
I smile faintly and watch Julien reach for a bottle behind the bar. “Out.”
“Ari.”
The way he says my name sends a flush of irritation through me. It’s condescending without the teasing edge. Possessive without the benefit of him actually wanting me.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he adds.
“I did,” I say lightly. “You just didn’t like the answer.”
There’s a beat of silence on the line, and I can imagine his strong jaw flexing. “You can’t just decide to disappear.”
“Um, excuse me? Isn’t that exactly what you did this morning? You’ve been gone all fucking day without a word.” I lower my voice, accepting the drink Julien slides towards me. His fingers brush mine, deliberate and warm, and I get a bolt of confidence.
I take a sip and smile, then mouth, “It’s perfect,” to Julien. He beams and bites his lip before backing away to help another customer.
“Look, Will, I get it. I’m really sorry I made you feel uncomfortable last night. I promise it won’t happen again. I think I’ve just been letting things build up too much.”
“So why didn’t you tell me you wanted to go out?”
“I need to live my own life. And the last thing I need is my big brother cockblocking me.”
“That’s not fair. Did you even bring security with you?”
“No,” I cut in, sharper now. “What’s not fair is you pretending this is about concern when it’s really about control.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Is it not?”
“No, I—I’m trying to protect you.”
My laugh is more of a scoff, short and humorless. Predictable.
“Again, for the thousandth time, I do not want or need your protection.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Ari,” he snaps. Then, softer, he adds, “It’s been like this since we were kids. I can’t just turn it off.”
“No, this is different. We used to go to clubs and parties together, both got what we needed, and everyone walked away happy. But you changed the rules that I never agreed to in the first place. And now it’s to the point where you won’t let anyone touch me at all.”
I take a long, slow sip of my drink and notice Julien watching me. I hold his gaze for a long moment and smile when he winks. Only when he turns to help another customer, do I give Will my attention again.
“So either you tell me what’s crawled up your ass, or you back way the fuck off.”
He doesn’t answer. I can hear his breathing through the phone now. Heavy, but controlled, like he’s gearing up to say something, but he keeps holding back.
Setting my glass on the bar top, I pick a cherry out of the ice and roll the stem between my fingers, waiting for Will to say anything.
I don’t know what exactly I want him to say.
I know it’s unreasonable and unlikely that he’d ever just tell me he wants me.
Acknowledge the strange tension that’s been building between us.
It started at the clubs we used to go to together, because they’re safe, with strict rules and even stricter NDAs.
In the beginning, I would find a private room or dark area far away from wherever Will was.
It felt like the right thing to do. I mean, who wants to watch their brother get fucked?
I don’t. But I also, maybe, kind of… like his eyes on me.
And he noticed.
He started dictating how things would happen, telling men how to touch me or how to let me touch them. He never let anyone fuck me the way I really wanted, but him watching gave me enough of a rush to get what I needed. Then I started wishing there wasn’t a woman touching him while he watched me.
And the more I paid attention, the more I realized something I already knew—that he only does these things because he knows I like it, not the other way around.
The only benefit for him was knowing I was safe while some hot blonde sucked him off.
Once I started seeing the behavior for what it was, it didn’t give me the same thrill. Instead, it made me feel small.
He'll never want me like that. Anything he’s ever done has been because he felt bad for me. Like my first kiss. Like what happened last night.
Will still hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t need to. I know everything I need to know.
“That’s what I thought,” I murmur, more to myself than him. I end the call without saying goodbye.
I bring the cherry to my mouth and set it on my tongue, letting the sweetness linger as Julien’s attention snaps fully back to me. Wrapping my tongue around the bright red candied fruit, I pop it from the stem before knocking back the rest of my drink, warmth blooming low in my stomach.
The room gets darker farther on the dance floor, but I can still feel Julien’s eyes on me. I let the music take me, let my body remember how to move without thinking about who’s watching—or who isn’t.