Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
As I pulled up to the restaurant to meet a new client Mom was transferring to me, I gripped the steering wheel. More than likely, I wouldn’t see Skylar after I got home, and that bummed me out.
As a result, I was pretty distracted throughout dinner, and Mom kept trying to bring me back to the conversation. She could tell I was off, which was unlike me. If I’d told her the reason why, she’d only have one more thing to hold against Skylar. If she even remembered who he was, how much he’d meant to me back then. That thought made me even more frustrated.
I drove home with purpose, a seed of an idea forming. I waved to Eddie distractedly, got on the elevator, then stepped onto my floor and turned in the opposite direction from my apartment. I knocked confidently on Gretchen’s door, my plan solidifying.
When she answered in a robe, with her hair in a towel, I instantly felt guilty that I hadn’t taken the time of day into account. “Clark, is everything okay?”
I winced. “Sorry I just sprang in on you like this. I just…had a stupid idea…never mind.”
“Well, you have to tell me now,” she replied with a hand on her hip. “It might not be stupid at all.”
“Okay…um, I was thinking about heading to the Playground tonight,” I explained in a hesitant tone, the idea not sounding so great after all. “And I thought maybe… No worries if you’re not up for it.”
Suppose I needed some moral support. God, I was pathetic. It was only a freaking gay club. So why did it feel like I’d stick out like a sore thumb?
“I’m in!” she said, excited. “I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready.”
“Cool.” Now I couldn’t chicken out anymore. Besides, showing up was one of Skylar’s stipulations for me, and I was nothing if not good with checklists.
My hands were getting clammy as I got changed, and I had trouble finishing the last buttons on my shirt. When I was done, I immediately rolled the sleeves to the elbows. At least I’d chosen jeans instead of khakis, so I’d look less like a dad going to a club. A laugh rumbled in my throat. Christ, I had to be the most uptight young adult on the planet.
Instead of slipping into expensive leather shoes, I opted for a stylish pair of sneakers, which were practically collecting dust in my closet. Then I swapped out my tortoiseshell frames for a chunky, electric-red pair that matched the stripe in my shirt.
Living large. I chuckled to myself again, which helped assuage my nerves.
When I opened the door for Gretchen, she regarded me with a keen eye. “You look good.”
“So do you,” I replied, noting her silky top and funky leopard shoes. She was brimming with energy, which was contagious.
We ordered a car service so that we could drink without worrying about driving home, and before I knew it, we were standing in line at the Playground. I felt a bit stuffier than the others around us, but at least I’d tried my best. I pushed up my glasses and tried to loosen my shoulders, but it was no use. I was too restless, not only about the club, but about running into Skylar. Would he be surprised to see us?
When we finally moved beyond the bouncer with the purple Mohawk and walked down a short hall to enter the club, the atmosphere changed completely. It was loud, the music booming, the place crowded. I took a deep breath and surged forward into the throng with Gretchen by my side.
Holy shit, there were beautiful people everywhere, and I wasn’t sure why that surprised me. Clubs had never been my thing, but I also knew how important safe establishments were for LGBTQ people. Somehow that made me feel more settled inside. These were my people, even if I felt like a fish out of water.
“Wow, this place is cool!” Gretchen spun around in a circle, taking everything in.
“Definitely.” My eyes scanned the place too. I didn’t see Skylar, but there were two different bar areas, so he could’ve been anywhere. “Let’s get a drink.”
“Good idea. First round is on me.” Gretchen might’ve sensed I needed one, or more than one, to help calm me down. My fingers were trembling as she led me to the nearest bar and stepped into a narrow space in front of a pretty female bartender.
I felt more confident while waiting for our drinks, like maybe I belonged there too. Also like a kid in a candy store because all around me men were talking, laughing, dancing, kissing, touching. I felt my cheeks flush, but I couldn’t say why. It wasn’t like I was some shy virgin. Though maybe in this setting I was.
Thankfully, Gretchen ordered shots first, which we downed quickly, and I enjoyed the burn and then the warmth sliding down my throat and through my limbs.