Kaiden found it a little awkward and a lot adorable. At least he wasn’t the only one struggling with small talk for a change.
The pair made their way through the crowded club, and Kaiden handed him the lighter as they approached the indoor/outdoor smokers’ section. James took the lighter, stuffed it in his pocket, and led the way further toward the front.
“You don’t want to head over there?” Kaiden pointed to the smoker’s section of the club. An outside venue that was still walled off by the club. Sort of like an enclosure within Himbos walls.
“Too crowded.” James shook his head, leading Kaiden to the front door exit.
Kaiden hesitated, staring at the bouncer and the sign that made it very clear that if you left, you paid for your cover again. No in and out from customers.
“I’ll get you on the way back in,” James said, giving Kaiden a coy smile.
There was tension in his cheeks, clearly as nervous as Kaiden, so he followed him outside, hoping the cold air would ease his anxiety.
The streets were mostly empty. Kaiden suspected most people were in bars and avoiding wandering for another hour or so. Still, James led the way to the corner alleyway between buildings.
Just as they cut the corner, a bitter breeze hit Kaiden, sending him stepping in close to James. He hadn’t meant to brush up against him, but he desperately needed to get away from the wind. Now, they safely stood in the alleyway, away from the frigid air.
James’s expression soured at Kaiden’s close proximity. He recoiled, arm retreating just enough to shove Kaiden off him. The sudden push knocked Kaiden off kilter. He winced at thejagged lining of the brick wall. His head bobbed back with a sharp, quick crack.
Hate replaced James’ coy smile, and Kaiden wondered if he’d become delirious after knocking into the wall.
“Don’t touch me, fag.”
Kaiden shivered, shrinking into himself. The pain from impact, the humiliation from James’ venomous tone, and the fear from the looming shadows turning the corner. Kaiden’s breathing hastened, his mind flooded with worry. What was happening? Why was this happening? How had he been so stupid in believing someone actually liked him?
Chapter Six
Pinprickles ran along the short hairs of Rus’ arms. He couldn’t explain it, but the heat of the club had washed over him in such a way that it created a cold sweat.
“Take this away from me,” Rus said, sipping his blue motorcycle with way too much gin. “This antifreeze is gonna kill me.”
“Oh, hush,” Dylan said with a laugh, disappearing the plastic cup onto a tray one of the go-go dancers-turned-drink server carried. “You okay?”
“No,” Rus said, digging in his pocket. “I need air. Fresh air.”
“Wanna go outside?”
Rus looked over at the window where the smokers sat enclosed in a tiny pocket of outdoorsy freedom. Only, it wasn’t freedom. The club had this wonderful outdoor venue for smokers to get some outdoor space while still within the walls of the club.
They looked like exotic pets on display, covered in smoke,flapping their mouths and waving their hands, and spreading their smoke like a poisonous nausea. It made Rus’ stomach twist into knots, almost puking up his nicotine craving. But he buried that putrid feeling and focused on the calm that came with an inhale. Oh, how he wanted the solace of a single puff. The ease of tension as his lungs swelled, the release of stress as he blew out smoke.
“No, it’s too crowded over there,” Rus said, eyeing the front doors. “Ugh, but they’re gonna charge us if we go outsideoutsideagain, aren’t they?”
The enclosure provided a bit of luxury, giving smokers freedom to be outside without actually exiting the club, and it allowed the club an easy way to charge a cover every time someone crossed their threshold. Since they only invited twenty-one and up, they didn’t bother with stamps for anyone, and patrons left early at their own risk. Rus gathered that much from the signs posted all around.
Rus could pay another five bucks to get in. But in his drunken stupor, five dollars truly felt like the end of the world. They would bankrupt him. He had to beat the system, defy them, defeat their vicious monopoly on robbing him for wanting to live his life. A life where he’d puff his smokes in peace.
“I know where to go,” Dylan said, stuffing his hand in Rus’ pocket.
The brief entanglement of their hands made Rus pause. His cheeks warmed, his body stilled, and his eyes locked with Dylan’s.
“Follow me.” Dylan yanked the pack of smokes from Rus’ pants and led him through a dark corridor of the bar to another open venue, which split off to a side area with bathrooms and a “Do Not Enter” doorway.
“That’s closed off.” Rus hesitated.
“Not scared to break a rule or two, are you?” Dylan waggled his perfectly trimmed eyebrows.
Rus grinned. “Never.”
