Every Saturday Night (Firsts and Forever 6)
Page 7
Chapter2
The place I was meeting Skye and Dare was called “Thrust,” which made me cringe. So did the fact that it was huge, loud, and crowded. I’d accompanied Hal to a handful of gay bars and clubs over the years, but his taste ran to quieter and more intimate places. This was just a lot, with its flashing colored lights, pulsating music, sexy go-go boys, and a packed dance floor teeming with hot guys.
I started to think about bailing out, but just then my new friends found me. Skye gave me a hug as he yelled over the music, “Hi, Logan! We’re glad you made it!”
“Sorry I’m late. I waited until Owen fell asleep before heading out. That took a while since he was fascinated by Yolanda and JoJo’s bedroom.”
“No worries, we’ve been dancing and lost track of time anyway. Come on, let’s go grab a drink,” Dare said, as he and his husband began to guide me through the crowd.
They knew a lot of people, from the bartender to the lavender-haired DJ and even some of the patrons. While Skye ordered us some cocktails, I asked Dare, “What did you guys do when you worked here?”
“We were both go-go boys,” he said with a grin. “I thought I hated Skye at first, but I was just going through some stuff and took it out on him. I was a former ballet dancer with a busted knee, and I resented being ‘reduced’ to this job. You know what, though? It was the best thing that ever happened to me—not just because I fell in love with Skye, but because it showed me I could still dance, even if my ballet career was over. It was a good ego check, too. I learned to respect the job and the people who do it.”
“I could never be a go-go boy,” I said. “I’d never have the courage to get up there and dance in front of everyone.”
Skye appeared with three glasses, and Dare took two of them. As he handed me a tall, bright blue cocktail, he smiled at me and said, “After three of these, you might feel differently.”
As it turned out, it only took two.
The blue drinks were deceptively deadly. I drank one right after the other because I was thirsty, and they tasted like fruit juice. A few minutes later, I found myself dancing with wild abandon. When I took a break and joined my friends, Dare told me, “You know, you’re a good dancer. You could get a job as a go-go boy if you wanted to.”
I snort-laughed at that and said, “I wish.”
Right beside us, Skye was chatting with Preston—the club’s owner—and Preston’s gorgeous boyfriend, a blond model named Sebastian. When Preston heard that, he turned to me and indicated an empty platform. “Give it a try if you want to. I’m down two dancers tonight.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way. I’m too skinny and dorky.”
Preston, who was a slim brunet in a suit and glasses, grinned as he told me, “Believe it or not, I started out as a go-go boy. It wasn’t all that long ago, either. If I could do it, I know you can.”
“Go for it, Logan,” Sebastian said with a friendly smile.
I hesitated and looked up at the platform as I muttered, “I don’t want to do it by myself.”
“I’ll go with you,” Skye said.
After a moment, I blurted, “Sure, why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” Clearly that was the alcohol talking.
I took off my flannel overshirt, leaving me in a T-shirt and jeans, and Dare exclaimed, “You’ve got this!”
The real go-go boys were in nothing but tiny shorts, but even tipsy I was too self-conscious to do this shirtless. Skye, on the other hand, stripped off his baggy T-shirt, revealing more muscles than I would have expected. Then he led the way to a ladder at the side of the platform.
My heart was pounding as I climbed up after him. I’d never done anything like this before, but I actually liked the fact that it was scary and shook things up a bit. Besides, no one would be looking at me, not with a blue-haired hottie dancing right beside me.
The platform was about five feet off the floor and the last in the row, located between the dance floor and the cluster of tables where our friends were seated. I decided the best approach was to totally ignore the crowd and just dance with Skye. He was fun and upbeat, and he busted out some goofy moves to make me laugh. After he did the running man, I launched into my best robot, which made him laugh, too.
While that was going on, Dare stood there watching his husband with a look of pure adoration. How amazing would it be to have a man look at me like that, just once?
I turned toward the dance floor to see if anyone had even noticed me. One person was facing in this direction—not that that meant he was paying any attention to what I was doing, which as it turned out was still the robot. He was nearly silhouetted against the bright, flashing lights, so all I could tell was that he was tall with shoulder-length hair.
Then he moved closer, into the spotlight illuminating the platform, and I discovered he really was watching me. Why did he look so familiar?
My breath caught when it suddenly dawned on me—I was staring at the gorgeous guy with the motorcycle, the one I gawked at day after day while he went to the diner and I loitered at the bakery.
Holy crap!
When he smiled at me, my heart did a weird stutter-step. Was I having a heart attack? Maybe, because he looked worried all of a sudden. He stuck his arms out and lunged toward the platform—just as I fell off.
If he’d intended to catch me in his arms like a hero in a movie, things didn’t quite go to plan. Instead, I landed on him like a hundred-and-twenty-pound dead fish and totally flattened him.