5
Orion
The wrench clanged on the ground as I bumped my head on the bottom of the hood of a classic sixty-five Ford Mustang.
It was a miracle the thing was still around, but the owner took such good care of it.
He brought it in almost religiously to get worked on.
Any weird noises, his baby needed a check-up.
The bright blue paint job made it stand out as it rolled down the street to our, admittedly, questionable shop.
Most car collectors took care of their cars themselves, but Mr. George had known my father for a long time—he trusted him for some strange reason.
If he knew half of what I did, I wouldn’t let him anywhere near the vehicle, which was probably why it was mostly me that worked on it.
I wouldn’t let anyone else touch Delilah.
“What was that?” Dad’s voice rang through the garage, making me cringe. He’d rip me a new one if he thought I’d done anything to ruin his oldest client’s baby. As if. The tool had missed the paint job. More damage was done to my scalp than to the car.
“Nothing,” I hollered back as I bent to pick up my wrench.
“Orion.”
My name being yelled was enough to make me jump. I almost dropped the stupid tool again, but it was only Jayden walking into the garage. I hadn’t heard anything out of him after I’d left him at the club. Maybe this was him coming to confront me about it.
I set my tools aside, feeling shaky. I’d been a mess all day, no doubt from the guilt I was still sitting in from going to the strip club the night before.
Dad had even noticed that I was off. That was bad.
I was normally really good at hiding what was going on at home.
For all he knew, Whitney and I were extremely happy, and I intended to keep it that way.
“What’s up, Jay.” I did my best to keep my voice steady as I turned to look at him.
Jayden had a shit-eating smile on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets, walking around the inside of the garage.
He looked at one of the other cars we had in there before slowly heading my way.
It was enough to irritate me. I crossed my arms over my chest, letting out a heavy sigh as he drew closer.
As he reached me, I wanted to reach out to strangle him because all he was doing was smiling and not saying a goddamn thing.
It was times like this that made me wonder why I was friends with him.
Not that he was ever a great friend. He constantly did things that were questionable.
In retrospect, I should have dropped him ages ago, but it was hard when I had so few people who hung around.
Most of my friends were still single, and married life, while it shouldn’t have been that different...
they thought it cramped their style to have my wife tagging along all the time.
“You vanished last night,” he finally said.
“Yeah, I don’t know what you expected me to do.
” I shot a look around the room to make sure no one else could hear our conversation.
Thankfully, the only other mechanic had stepped out on his lunch break.
It was something that I should be doing soon, since my stomach had been growling at me for the last half hour or so.
He laughed before whistling and leaning on Delilah. I held my breath because if he so much as put a tiny ass scratch on that car, I’d kill him. It took a lot for Mr. George to trust us with this car…
“You missed out on a good time. I’m telling you, man. You need to go back. That girl? Damn. Lips of an angel. Best damn blow job of my life.”
I stared at him—there we were in the middle of my father’s garage. The last thing I needed was for my old man to come in, hear him, and start in as well. He’d been unfaithful to my mother since day one. It was the cause of many of their fights. I never wanted to be like my dad.
When I first talked about getting married, Mom had been all kinds of excited, but Dad had tried to talk me out of it.
He’d said I was wasting my life—I’d be better off playing the field for a little longer.
I didn’t want to play the field. Whitney was my world, and even if we were having problems now, it didn’t negate that feeling.
“I’m glad you had fun.” The statement was forced. All I wanted to do was get back to work, but Jayden wasn’t showing any signs of leaving.
“Come on, dude. Live a little. I was thinking about going again tonight. Think about it. You know you want to.”
A small voice in the back of my head said I wanted to go again, even if I’d been thinking about it nonstop.
I wanted to see if I ran into that gorgeous male dancer from the night before again.
I’d only seen one other guy before leaving, but I liked that the club offered both.
It was such a rarity, but it wasn’t something I should consider at all.
While Whitney had seemed to be in a better mood this morning, I should be there for her a little more tonight than I had the night before. Just thinking about her and comforting her assuaged some of my guilt.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Jayden clapped a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jolt forward. I hated it when he touched me like that, but he never understood boundaries like most normal people.
“Come on, man. Live a little.”
“I don’t think I should do that again.”
Jayden glared, now his turn to cross his arms over his chest.
“Why? Let me guess. You got home and Whitney asked all sorts of questions about where you’d been, like a chickenshit, you’d caved telling her everything.”
The exact opposite had happened. When I’d gotten home, Whitney had been fast asleep, curled up in a little fetal ball on our bed.
I’d wanted to crawl under the covers and wrap her in my arms, but it all felt wrong after coming home from the club.
Instead. I found my way to the couch, grabbed a blanket, and slept there instead.
She hadn’t even said anything about it when she woke me up in the morning.
“Nothing like that happened. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go back. Come on, Jayden. I was in a weird place last night. It’s the only reason I agreed to meet up with you.”
His gaze turned suspicious, but he uncrossed his arms, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. But if you ever think about heading back, give your boy a call. Those girls are fine and I wouldn’t mind dropping some more money for a good time.”
I rolled my eyes before grabbing a rag to wipe my hands. It was clear that I wasn’t getting any more work done for now. Jayden wasn’t leaving. The longer I stood there talking to him, the hungrier I got. At least I could talk my friend into keeping me company for lunch.
“I was going to head over to the diner down the road for lunch. Want to join me?”
It was stupid to ask, because a grin split Jayden’s face. The asshole would probably make me pay for his food, too.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared at the wooden door in front of me.
Why the fuck was I there again? It wasn’t like the day had been all that terrible outside of Jayden giving me a ton of shit during lunch. He’d continued to harass me about what had happened with Whitney the night before, and maybe that was why I was back now.
I’d give anything for just a small glimpse of the little dancer that had caught my attention.
It was stupid because I shouldn’t be thinking about him at all.
Things were a lot better at home that evening.
Whitney had made a nice dinner. She’d even had a smile on her face, but all I felt was the innate itch beneath my skin to be anywhere but sitting at our dining room table.
And now I was back at Faded Sins. It was the last place I should be, especially after telling Jayden that I’d never go back. I only hoped that I wouldn’t run into him.
Sweat coated my palms as I reached for the door handle, opening it to expose myself to the loud blast of music coming out of the club. I needed to turn around and go home, but my need to see the dancer kept my feet propelled forward instead of in the direction of home.
It was a Friday night, so there was a larger audience than before. That probably made a huge difference. Nights when people had to be at work the next day probably didn’t draw as big a crowd.
I was thankfully able to find an open stool at the bar to squeeze into.
The overall increase in the noise made it a bit overwhelming—there was a small part of me that didn't even want to stay.
But when the same bartender from the previous night approached me, a smile crossed my face. He seemed just as pleased to see me.
“You’re back,” he yelled over the roar of the crowd.
I didn’t want to, but a laugh slipped past my lips anyway. “You caught me.”
Victor smiled before grabbing a beer bottle from behind the counter and sliding it across to me. It was the same stuff I’d been drinking the night before. I was slightly impressed that he’d remembered.
I tipped the bottle in his direction in thanks before turning to watch the stage.
The dancer who was currently spinning on the pole was the woman who’d jumped off the stage to help my current infatuation the night before.
While she was very pretty, she didn’t do anything for me either.
She had long blonde hair tied back in pigtails tonight instead of a pony.
There was gold tinsel mixed in with the strands, and glitter covered her body, making her shimmer beneath the strobing lights of the stage.
Fuck Me Like You Hate Me by Jutes played over the speakers as she danced, dipping low to taunt the audience with her body.
She wore a red thong, her bra already missing.
Her breasts were a decent size, so that I could easily hold them in my hands with nothing spilling over.
I didn’t desire her though. There was nothing that begged me to call her to talk to me or drag me to a private room for a personal performance.
What was it about her—she was so close to the person I wanted to see the most.
The song changed when she left the stage.
The sounds of You Put a Spell on Me performed by Austin Giorgio filled the air.
There on the stage, dipping and swaying to the music’s seductive sound, was the very person I’d been compelled to see.
Just like the night before, all he wore was a tiny pair of shorts that barely covered him.
He leaned over, touching the stage, throwing his ass high in the air—I couldn’t tear my eyes away even if I wanted to.
My mouth ran dry because I wanted to feel his skin, to know what it felt like to have him gyrate against me.
It was a dangerous thought. I’d just said earlier in the day that I had no desire to purchase services from the club, but if this lovely specimen was up for offer.
Fuck. I might be tempted. More than tempted.
I craved it. Desired in a way I hadn’t felt since I met Whitney back in high school.
The thought scared me because I’d never felt that way about anyone other than my wife before.
But the longer I sat there watching his hips sway, forgetting about the frosty bottle of beer in my hands, I couldn’t think of anything other than running my tongue along the smooth planes of Sable’s chest as he clutched my shoulders.
When the music ended. It took a moment to snap back to my senses.
Another dancer was on stage, but I couldn’t process anything about them.
My brain was scrambling to remember that the person I wanted to see would be wandering through the crowd shortly and I didn’t know if I would be brave enough to talk to him or not.
Everything in my gut told me to leave it alone.
To get up, walk out the door, and go back to Whitney. I was begging for trouble.