“Ohhh yes! Good call.” Mere whipped out her phone. “Spill it.”
I slid off the chair and onto the floor with my face pressed against the wood. “Guys, I haven’t even redownloaded any apps. Plus, I’ve been trying to cope with my obvious desperation since I am fiending for a man who was two minutes away from plowing my disgusting ex-boyfriend. Can we focus on that and not encourage me?”
Ashton gave me a sideways look. “If I can forgive Valdrin for secretly being my bodyguard for years, you can forgive a sexy and endearing man who nearly slept with some douche he thought was single.”
“How do you know he’s endearing?” I demanded.
“Because he’s been trying to earn your forgiveness for weeks?” Ashton sniffed and tossed his long blond hair over one shoulder. “I would have quit after the first rebuff.”
I made a face, pretending to mimic him.
“So, is he not endearing?” Jace pressed. “Maybe he just wants to get in your butt.”
“He definitely wants in my butt. Although…” Sighing tragically, I flung a hand vaguely towards the bookcase in my makeshift dance space. “He may be a filthy horn dog, but he’s a filthy horn dog who must have spent hours gluing my porcelain dancing boy figurine back together after I destroyed it in my blind rage. He left it outside my door.”
Jace and Ashton made swoony faces. Even Stephanie made an aww noise. Mere was the holdout with a skeptical eyebrow arch. I high fived her.
“But enough about me and my weird neighbor. I’m not done interrogating you people about your love lives.”
There were questions practically brimming in each of them but, by some miracle, they allowed me to shift the topic away from my bizarre infatuation with Luis the sexy neighbor. The last thing I needed was them making a case for me caving to my basic desire to bend over for someone who probably made it a habit of charming eager bottoms. Considering he’d had Landon begging to be banged, I was willing to wager Luis’ behavior towards me wasn’t exactly exclusive to me. The boy had game. And I wasn’t going to be anyone else’s toy.
***
Luis
I was supposed to have the evening off from Male Revue to practice my routine for my ongoing gig with the burlesque troupe, but two dancers had bailed. Now, I was called in with promises of two bachelorette parties plus a queer bachelor party having been booked for the night. Which meant a packed house and a lot of dollar bills being shoved into my underwear.
Did I need to rehearse? You damn right I did. My choreography was on point, but there were still moments when I forgot a step or a twist. That was fine when I was stripping at Male Revue, but when I was performing on stage with other people? And being scrutinized by the other dancers? Actual dancers with talent and experience? It wasn’t okay.
Unfortunately, I also needed money, and I rarely got scheduled to work these big money nights with bachelorette parties. Those were usually better kept for the favorite dancers and the ones with a way longer tenure than I had. It usually didn’t bother me, but I was starting to be desperate for cash to save.
As much as I loved the dance troupe with every fiber of my being, especially considering how the other dancers had helped draw me up out of the slump I’d been in after quitting boxing… it paid barely anything. And it was pretty painful to admit the thing you love would never make you any money. So, I needed to get raunchy at SI Male Revue and hope I had time to practice later.
My mood was so foul that I was oblivious to people standing in the vestibule of the house until I jerked my door open and stepped outside. My eyes focused on them—well, mostly on Charles. I could tell he’d probably been wasting away in his apartment all day again, but he was fucking stunning in his silky robe with his curly hair and long elegant limbs.
I didn’t miss the way he automatically ran a hand through his hair and couldn’t help a half-smile. Looking at his bedhead just made me thinking about waking up next to him after—
“Luis?” A tall lanky blond walked to the front of the group and gaped. “Oh my God. You’re his weird neighbor?”
My jaw dropped. A booming laugh popped out of me as recognition set in. The long legs, all-black ensemble, ridiculously long platinum hair, and androgynous features… What in the hell was Ashton Townsend, otherwise known as the celebutante A-Town, doing in my house?
“Holy fuck. Hollywood!” I stepped forward to drag him into a quick hug. Normally, I’d squeeze the hell out of him, but… something told me to keep my mitts off. And that something was the half confused, half wary expression on Charles’ face. “What are you doing here? You and my boy Charles are friends?”
Charles’ gaze flew between me and Ashton, as did the eyes of his other friends. A short guy with long black hair, a blond in high heels, and a fly looking Latinx chick.
“I’m not his boy,” Charles grumbled. “What is going on?”
Ashton shook his head slowly, his expression a study in shock as he stared at me. “Charles and I are close friends, actually. But… I can’t believe I’m seeing you.” A big smile stole over his face. “I never thought I’d see you again after the night of the fight. I know Val has been talking to you on Instagram now that he actually uses it, but—”
“Wait,” Charles said, frowning. “For real. How the fuck do you two know each other?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, unable to hide a smug grin, as Ashton explained. “Luis trains at Valdrin’s old boxing gym. They were… kind of friends? Sorta?” He scrunched up his face. “They were set to fight at a tournament, and during their match, this total asshole started harassing me. Valdrin noticed and lost, and later… Luis gave up the title because he knew Valdrin had been distracted.”
The blonde woman nodded approvingly.
“I don’t fight at Cadet’s anymore,” I said. “That same asshole, Bronson, and his fucking friends made life miserable for me for a while. So I quit.”
“You quit the gym?” Ashton frowned. “Or… you quit boxing?”
“Both.”
“But—” Ashton stopped after catching my cautioning glare. “I’ll just make Val demand the information from you and then tell me.”
“Or you could just ask me yourself,” I said dryly. “I’m not trying to talk about it in front of strangers, but you can hit me up just as quickly as your man. I’m on Instagram just as much as you, Hollywood. And while we’re on the topic, I’d appreciate some regramms so your rich friends will eventually become clients when I get into personal training.”
Ashton bounced in place, clapping excitedly. “If you train me, I can post pictures as your first client!”
The words blew me away. I hadn’t even expected him to agree about the regramms let alone offering to be a client. We hadn’t exactly been close. Me and Valdrin hadn’t even been close. We’d been somewhat rivals for years at the gym, although it had mostly been me wanting to beat the dude everyone had claimed would be the first champ the gym would spit out in years. I’d even come onto Ashton a couple of times after seeing him wonder around the neighborhood, so this excitement and support? It wasn’t what I expected. Especially considering the lack of it I’d been getting from everyone but my mother since I’d come out.
I cleared my throat, looked over the group, and then at Charles. He was studying me closely, his plump lips pursed as he tried to read the situation.
“Thanks, Hollywood,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “If you’re really interested, I’ll hit you up once I have my shit together. It might not be for a long time, though. Renting studio space won’t be cheap, and it’s hard to save money since I moved out of the Bronx.”
“Please let me know what I can do to help,” Ashton all but pleaded. “We could even do a fundraiser—"
“Nope.” I shake my head, laughing. “I got this, A-Town. Trust me. This apartment is cheap as hell since me and Charles’ landlord is never around and lets repairs lapse for fucking weeks, and I’ve been making decent money dancing. It will just take a little while to save.�
�
“Dancing?” Charles immediately made a face, as though he hadn’t been planning to speak.
“Yup,” I drawled. “I dance at Male Revue, and do some shows on the side with a traveling dance troupe.”
“Male Revue?” the tiny long-haired guy demanded. “Sounds like a strip club.”
“That’s because it is one.” I hefted my duffel bag on my shoulder and looked at Charles once again. His face was priceless. Lips parted, brows lifted, and those chocolatey eyes narrowed. I hoped he was imagining something amazing. Like everything he’d seen when he was peeping through my window. “It’s not a new development. I’ve been stripping for years. I always liked dancing, and I made no money from boxing, so it made sense to put this body to good use.”
Ashton nodded seriously. “Totally true. I support this. Completely.”
“I do too,” the short guy said, smiling widely. “And Charles. I can tell.”
Charles sent him a glare full of daggers. “Shut up, Jace.”
It wasn’t hard to figure out that Charles had told them a lot more about me than me being the “weird neighbor”. And because I was a master at pushing boundaries, and my luck, I rooted around in my duffel bag for one of the glossy postcards from the club. It was promo I was supposed to drop at random places, and this set had my picture on it—me with boxing gloves, a fake title belt, and a g-string, with flames behind me. Cheesy as fuck, but it amused me. It also amused the hell out of my mother.
“Here,” I said, handing it to Jace. “I’m dancing pretty much all night tonight if y’all wanna come through. It will be crowded, but I can get you a table at the front. Not for nothing, but if I say A-Town is coming with his rich friends, you’ll be treated like kings. Also, honestly, it might make me look pretty good to the owner. The place has politics just like any other job, and anything I can do to stay in that dude’s good graces is pretty dope. Turnover is high, and I need the cash.”
“Can we bring friends?” The Latinx woman asked, grinning wickedly. “Like… five or six more friends?”
“You can bring whoever the hell you want.” I hesitated then frowned. “Except Valdrin. That’s just weird.”
“Oh, he would never come,” Ashton reassured me, laughing. “I still have to tell him I’m going, though.”
“Wait—” Charles stepped forward. That one simple motion was all it took to captivate me. He had such control over his body that it was hard not to appreciate every inch of it. That, and the way his robe slid down slightly to show the delicious curve of his collarbone. “You’re going?”
“We are going,” Ashton said. “To support a friend. So go get dressed.”
Charles flushed as he appeared to swallow whatever protests he had, but ultimately inclined his head. He turned on his heel to head upstairs to his own apartment, but not before shooting me a quick glance. I don’t know that I was supposed to catch him looking so openly intrigued by me, but I did. And that covert sign of interest? It was all I needed to stop backing off.
North Shore ch 8
Chapter Eight
Charles
Nothing says I don’t give a fuck like going to a male strip club on Staten Island’s south shore wearing thirty-seven layers under a green army jacket, a scarf, and a beanie. But spring in New York City meant a heatwave one day and sixty degrees the next, so I could get away with covering every inch of myself. The fact that I needed multiple protective layers in order to deal with the fact that I was about to see Luis naked and gyrating on stage was something I needed to work out.
Instead, I researched Male Revue while my obnoxious and overbearing friends waited for the rest of our crew to arrive at the bar up the strip from Luis’ club. It was marketed as a gay strip club with drag nights alternating with dance nights, but there was also a section on the website for bachelorette parties and the such. The most shocking thing to me was that there was an openly gay club in one of the most conservative parts of Staten Island. Although, most of Staten Island was conservative.
By the time Chris and Tonya showed up—Raymond and David had unshockingly declined the invitation, and Aiden had gone to watch some sports shit with Angel—I was a brimming bundle of nerves. The others were so excited that they mostly missed my quiet tenseness, except for Stephanie.
She slid her arm around my shoulders and drew me in, walking side-by-side as Ashton led us to Male Revue. It was in a nondescript building on Arthur Kill Road, and looked just as seedy as every other club on Staten Island that I’d ever been to, but the door man received us as if we were royalty. Obviously, Luis had informed them that A-Town and an entourage would be showing up, and they’d planned accordingly.
The inside was way nicer than I’d expected, although the neighborhood definitely was on the upper end of the borough’s social scale. The club consisted of one large room with a wood paneled bar at the end, several clusters of leather seats dotted around with the occasional larger table for groups, and a single stage in the center. It had a staircase on either side and was surrounded by leather captain’s chairs.
The host led us to the chairs surrounding the stage, and I nearly passed out.
“Calm down, papi,” Stephanie said in my ear. “He’s just a man.”
“I know.” When she arched an eyebrow at my sharp town, I sighed. “Sorry. I’m just… I can’t explain it.”
“Try to explain,” she suggested. “Do you not like that you’re attracted to him? Because, hate to say it, the tension between you two was thick enough to karate chop. You stared him down, sweetie. And he did the same to you.”
“I know,” I groaned, sinking lower in my chair. “I’m so fucking attracted to him. It’s not fair.”
“Why isn’t it fair? Because of the way you met?”
“Yes! It’s ridiculous. I should hate him.”
A guy walked over, tall and muscular and lean, wearing nothing but a pair of Andrew Christian underwear and boots. He was carrying a shots tray and trying to entice our group into buying some. Because Ashton was Ashton, he immediately bought the whole tray and proceeded to ask for bottle service. I couldn’t help a smile. He clearly had no interest in the dancers or the scantily clad waiters, and was here for the sole purpose of making Luis look good to his managers.
Stephanie threw back her shot, cringing, then turned to me again. “Okay, real talk.”
“Ugh.”
“Don’t ugh at me, Carlito,” she scolded, using the Spanish version of my name. “If anything gets under my skin, it’s someone who blames the other person in a cheating situation. Especially someone who had no idea the person they’d been involved with wasn’t single. I’ve had so many friends who would start an entire harassment or shit talking campaign directed at the third party instead of the person who deserves it—the guy who cheated on them. There is no one to blame but Landon for his actions.”
“I know. It’s just—”
The first dancer came out from behind the stage wearing a kilt and some kind of leather strap across his chest. I couldn’t help a smile at the shrill wolf whistle Jace let out. A quick glance his way showed he was also halfway sitting in Chris’ lap. They were so absurdly cute together. I wished I could see them with Aiden. I would have already if I’d ever stopped hiding in my apartment.
Sighing, I turned back to Stephanie. “It’s just… I don’t know if I’m so hungry for him because he’s hot and accessible and I’ve not been…” I struggled with the next part, feeling myself flush as the pieces came together in my mind. “Ever since I kicked Landon out, I’ve been thinking about the past two years and have realized things changed between us long ago. In the past, our dynamic was always explosive and volatile but there was this passion I used to justify all the bad shit.” I cringed at the description, but Stephanie just nodded in agreement. “But a couple of years ago the passion wasn’t even there. It was just us fighting, badly, and me running to my friends. Hiding from him. Avoiding him. And him avoiding me. He stopped showing interest in me sexually, and the
re were times when I was relieved. But then I’d feel… so fucking empty?”
A quick glance at the stage showed the dude sliding down the pole and doing the splits once he hit the floor. He vaulted up into a squat and started twerking.
“Why empty?” Stephanie pressed, drawing my attention again.
“Because as much as I hate to admit it, my entire adolescence and adulthood has been me feeling shitty about myself and needing validation from others to shove all of that self-loathing to the side. It’s partially how I’d ended up with Landon in the first place.” More bitter pills slid down my throat as I realized I’d never really wanted him. Just how he’d initially made me feel. “And sex and affection somehow became these things I used for validation, which I fucking hate. You have no idea how much I hate it. I want to change it. So this thing with Luis? Him being so obviously into me and wanting to fuck me? I keep feeling like me being drawn in is just me desperately seeking that same validation. Especially because I haven’t felt desired by anyone in so long.”
Stephanie made a sympathetic sound and slid her hand over mine. She paid no mind to the dancer or our friends, even when Jace loudly noted that Chris should dance because of how delicious his dick would look in tiny underwear.
“I understand more than you think,” she said. “But for me, I thought of relationships the way you think of sex. As a thing people used to validate their existences, so I rejected them all. I had to reconsider a lot of things before me and Angel could be together, and I realized I was willing to put aside that baggage and that whole thought process if I didn’t want to lose him.”
“But that makes sense! You and him have been in this tug-of-war forever. I just met Luis.”
“Oh, I’m right there with you. And he could just want to fuck you. You have no idea what his motives are.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, bringing it to her lips. “But what I would say is maybe if your interest doesn’t go away, you could let yourself get to know him before you decide to write him off for good. You don’t have to hold yourself back only out of fear of making a mistake.”
North Shore Page 8
