“Ten minutes!” Corey stuck his head into the dressing area. “You’re up next, Kai. Better get ready.”
I looked up from where I was rubbing body oil on Gray, one of my coworkers at the club.
“Sure thing,” I called back when Corey gave me a pointed look.
“Need me to do you next?” Gray asked as I slid my fingertips under the waistband of his tiny underwear to make sure he was fully covered with oil.
“If you could.”
“It’s crazy out there.” Zane, one of the other dancers, said as he came into the back room. “Two bachelorette parties and what looks like a twenty-first birthday one too.”
“Excellent.” Gray rubbed his hands together. “As long as it’s better than last night, yeah?”
I nodded grimly as I wiped off my hands. Friday nights were usually lucrative, but last night had been an anomaly. We’d been at half capacity for most of the night. The tips had been abysmal, and the crowd had been more subdued than usual.
That was the worst part of my job. Putting on a show was easier when the audience was into it. Feeding off their energy and tailoring my performance to what the crowd wanted was one of the reasons I was good at what I did.
Being a male stripper wasn’t as easy as it could be for our female counterparts. We were contractors, which meant we worked for tips. If people weren’t in generous moods, we didn’t get paid.
For the past three years, I’d worked as a bartender at a club downtown. The hours were shit, and while the tips had been good, working four nights a week had made school nearly impossible to keep up with.
Now that I was a senior, I needed more flexibility in my schedule. On a whim, I’d checked out Crimson, an all-male strip club in the city. I’d taken a weekend off work at the club and had tried my hand at dancing. I’d made more in one night than I usually made in an entire week at the club after tip splitting.
Cutting my hours from four nights to two had done wonders for my sanity and sleep schedule, but some weekends were leaner than others. Working for tips over having set hours and a guaranteed wage was the reason most of my coworkers had side gigs. No one was getting rich from shaking their junk.
I had rent due next week, and my fridge was bare except for a carton of milk, some butter, and a jar of mayo. I needed tonight to make up for the shortfall from yesterday. Otherwise, I’d be surviving off cheese sandwiches next week.
“Has anyone seen my jock?” Liam emerged from the props closet in nothing but a towel.
“Which one?” Enzo looked up from where he was rooting through the box with different glitters and oils.
“The glow-in-the-dark one.”
“I think I saw it in the laundry bag.” I grabbed an undershirt out of another bin and tore the package open.
The club bought this particular brand in bulk because they were cheap and easy to rip. Nothing got the ladies screaming louder than literally tearing your clothes off for them.
Liam went back into the closet.
“What routine are you doing first?” Gray asked me.
I stripped down to my briefs. “Is Javier on the pole?” I asked River, who was leaning against the wall a few feet away. The backroom at Crimson was a tight fit when all hands were on deck.
He nodded. “And they’re making it rain for him.”
Javier was the only one of us who had any formal training. Most of the other guys had taken some sort of dance lessons, but Javi was a trained aerialist and contemporary dancer. His routines were not only beautiful but also breathtaking in their difficulty. Following him was a tough sell, so I’d have to break out the big guns.
“Looks like my doctor routine.” I held out my arms so Gray could rub body oil on me.
“Nice. That’s always a crowd-pleaser.”
I winked at him. Gray was the only guy at the club who knew me outside of work. We’d grown up together and had been friends since we were little. We’d never been especially close, but he’d hinted more than once that he’d be up for a little fun.
Everyone at the club knew I wasn’t straight, but I made it a rule that I didn’t mess around with my coworkers. Work was where I went to make money, and complicating things with a fling wasn’t worth the hassle.
I held still as Gray coated me in the thick oil with tiny flecks of gold glitter in it. The sheen reflected nicely off the lights, and they highlighted my tats, which were as much of a crowd-pleaser as my dancing. Nothing got the ladies hotter than watching a buttoned-up guy tearing off his clothes and revealing a body full of ink.
Gray slipped his fingertips under the legs of my briefs, and I bit back a laugh. My upper thighs were a ticklish spot. Gray took more time than necessary to work the oil around my briefs, but I let him have his fun.
One of the bonuses of working at an all-male strip club was the eye candy. All my coworkers were hot, and the view was a nice perk.
“All set.” He grabbed a towel and cleaned his hands.
Ignoring the sensation of wet oil on my skin, I slipped on the undershirt, then pulled on a light-blue button-up and a pair of black dress pants. A belt, lab coat, and stethoscope completed my outfit.
“Two minutes!” Corey poked his head into the back room, and the roar from the crowd filled the air.
“Let’s hope they stay thirsty.” Gray stepped into a pair of firemen’s pants. He was up after me, and the sexy fireman was his signature dance.
“Hey, Kai?”
Nick, one of the newest dancers, stood a few feet behind me. The kid just turned twenty-one and had that innocent, barely legal look going on.
“What’s up?”
“Do you want to do our chair routine with me later tonight? Stone was supposed to be my partner, but he’s a no-show.”
“Again? I don’t understand why Corey and Ray keep him on the roster.”
“He’s a crowd-pleaser.” Liam came out of the prop closet in a glow-in-the-dark jockstrap and nothing else.
“And he brings in the numbers when he does bother to show up.” Bitterness tinged Gray’s voice.
They weren’t wrong. Stone was the only dancer who had a following outside of the club. As a porn model, he had a legion of fans who gladly opened their wallets on nights when he was the featured dancer. On regular nights, it was hit or miss if he showed up for his shift.
“Yeah, sure thing,” I said to Nick.
He beamed. “Thanks!”
I didn’t bother telling him he was doing me a favor. Nick was my polar opposite with his blond hair, lithe body, and untouched skin. Putting us on stage together only highlighted our differences, and we’d developed a devil/angel-type routine that involved a lot of grinding and me “seducing” him as he played hard to get. The club didn’t allow full nudity or overt sexual touching, but the crowd loved it when we got a little handsy with each other.
The door to the backstage flew open, screams and cheers reverberating off the walls, and Javi rushed into the room, a huge grin on his flushed face. He banged the door closed, muffling the noise.
“Good night?” I asked.
“Fuck yeah.” He ran a hand through his black hair. “I easily made a couple of C-notes.”
“Fuckin A.” I grinned. “Hope you saved some tips for the rest of us.”
He smirked. “No promises.”
The little light next to the door flicked on, which was my cue to get my ass ready. I drew in a deep breath to center myself. The light went off, and I stepped through the door as the opening bars to my solo song filled the club. It was go time.
“You look like death.”
Ash Summers, another student and resident of my apartment building, was leaning against the wall next to the front door.
“Thanks.” I locked my jaw to cover a yawn. “Can you believe I ran out of coffee?”
“On a Monday morning?” Ash grimaced, his dark hair falling over one silver eye. “Rookie mistake.”
“Yeah. Not my brightest moment.” I dug my car keys out of my pocket. “Where’s your better half?”
“He forgot his jacket.” Ash’s usual smirk melted into that soft smile he always wore when he talked about his boyfriend.
“I’m here! Oh, hey, Kai.”
Jules, Ash’s boyfriend, hurried over to Ash, and snuggled into his side.
“Hey.” I upnodded him.
“You okay?” Ash hugged Jules against his chest.
“Yup. Just wanted some cuddles before school.”
Ash chuckled and dropped a kiss on Jules’s blond head.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable, I shifted from foot to foot. Should I go or wait to say goodbye?
Ash and Jules were one of those couples who couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other. It was cute, but I didn’t get the appeal of cuddling and felt like a third wheel when they got lost in their own little world.
I didn’t know Jules well, but Ash and I had shared a few classes over the years. We’d discovered we lived in the same building about a month ago when I’d dropped off a package for him that had been mistakenly left in front of my door.
Jules tilted his head, his eyes closed, and his cherubic face flushed. Ash eagerly covered Jules’s lips with his. Their kiss turned deep and messy and way too intimate for seven fifteen on a Monday morning.
“I’ll see you guys later,” I said loudly. It would be a while before they pried themselves away from each other.
Ash broke the kiss and gave Jules a stern look when the smaller man whined in protest.
“See ya. You hitting that party Christian is hosting?” Ash asked me.
“Can’t. Gotta work.”
“Where do you work again?” Jules pressed his cheek into Ash’s shoulder.
“In the city.”
I liked them, but I didn’t share my occupation with people. The last thing I needed was for it to get around school that I danced for a living.
Crimson catered to a female crowd, and one of my biggest fears was someone from school recognizing me. I wasn’t ashamed of my job, but it was infinitely easier to dance in front of a crowd of strangers than if people I knew were in the audience. And I didn’t need any videos of me on the internet, especially if they were connected to my real name.
“I’ll catch you guys later.”
I gave them a little wave. They both smiled at me, still wrapped up in each other. Chuckling, I walked to my car, twirling my keys in my hand.
For as long as I’d known him, Ash had been a broken record of complaints about his stepbrother and how much he despised him. The sheer depth of his hatred and rage had been staggering.
Now he and his stepbrother were the most coupley couple I’d ever known. I was ravenously curious about how that evolution had happened but wasn’t exactly shocked.
Love and hate were two sides of the same coin, both fueled by passion. Most people knew that love could easily shift to hate, but the reverse was also true. Ash and Jules were living examples of it.
My thoughts drifted to Alex. We hadn’t talked since our meeting in the library. He hadn’t texted, and neither had I. We were in a strange sort of stalemate. I still hadn’t figured out why he hated me. I wasn’t an angel, so his dislike could be warranted.
I slid into my car and tossed my bag on the seat next to me. I needed caffeine.
The drive to school usually took twenty minutes. Rather than stop at one of the coffee shops along the way, I made a quick detour to a gas station on the outskirts of town. It was a local secret that they had the best coffee, and I knew everyone who worked there. Hell, I knew everyone who worked at most places around here.
“Kai.” Nate grinned as I walked into the small storefront.
“Hey.” I waved and made a beeline for the coffee bar at the back.
I filled a large cup with their dark brew, added some sweetener and milk, and strolled back to the counter.
“We just got a delivery from Welsh’s,” Nate said.
“Why must you do this to me?” I put my coffee down on the counter and pulled out my wallet. “I’ll take my usual.”
Grinning, he grabbed a bakery bag out of a large white box and placed it on the counter next to my coffee. The scent of sugar, cinnamon, and fresh bread tickled my nose. Welsh’s Bakery made the most incredible pastries, and their cinnamon rolls were to die for. They were totally worth the extra time I’d have to spend working it off. Carbs were my weakness, but my abs and my livelihood weren’t fans.
“How’ve you been?” I asked.
“Good. Still slugging away with all those rich kids?” He rang up my order.
I handed him a ten. “Yup.”
Town-gown relations had always been strained but were worse now than ever before. The school brought in a lot of revenue for the town, and our population more than doubled during the school year. Unfortunately, that extra revenue was concentrated in the areas directly around the college, and not much of it trickled down to the rest of the locals. The people who worked at and around the college lived in the surrounding neighborhoods, which would be considered middle class or higher.
The school had expanded a lot in the hundred or so years since it was established. Student housing had taken over the last of the “nice” neighborhoods, and the only ones who benefited were the landlords who’d snapped up the properties when the locals were forced out thanks to gentrification.
Once upon a time, the area had been a hub for factory workers, miners, and loggers, but as manufacturing had moved overseas and the surrounding industry had shut down, the town had quickly become a story of two classes: the rich, who’d managed to keep hold of their wealth, and the rest of us, who were stuck fighting for scraps.
The entire west side catered to students and tourism, which was also closely connected to the college. The downtown was lively and had a decent art scene. But the abandoned buildings and ever-present “for lease” signs on the east side were the world I’d grown up in.
Not all the kids who went to Rutherford were rich, but they lived on the rich side, so pretty much everyone I knew hated them on principle.
“Are you going to Ted and Macy’s engagement party?” He handed me my change.
“Are you?” I gave him an appraising look.
Nate and Macy had dated all through high school and right up until a year ago. Then she’d dumped him for Ted after publicly cheating on him.
“Nope.” He grinned sardonically. “Not unless I want to catch a murder charge.”
“I’m skipping it too.”
I hadn’t been invited, but even if I had, I wouldn’t go. The entire engagement had “drama” written all over it, and I was allergic to drama. My only focus for the next year was studying my ass off so I could finish with a high GPA and get into a decent grad school.
One bonus of being local was that my tuition was free. I’d applied for a scholarship for locals after working for a few years, and no one had been more surprised than me when a fat acceptance envelope had been delivered to my apartment that spring. The scholarship covered my tuition but nothing else, which was why I was still working at the club.
I took the change and stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar. Saying a quick goodbye, I grabbed my coffee and hurried out to my car. The last thing I needed was to be late for class again.
