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Izzy smiles. “I knew you were a mojito guy. Comin’ right up.”
As the owner of the bar, you would think Izzy would have trouble remembering all the customers’ names and which drinks they prefer, but not Izzy. The barkeep’s memory is as sharp as my draxilio’s teeth. A man and woman I have not seen before are behind the bar, working alongside Izzy to pour drinks, which is good. A crowd this size would be tricky to serve with just one person.
“Isn’t she amazing?” Vanessa says loudly over the noise of the crowd. She points to the singer standing on a wide black platform, which serves as a makeshift stage.
Her statuesque radiance is striking, along with her intricately woven blonde hairstyle that is piled atop her head, the bright red color of her sequined dress that matches her lips, and the gold, black, and white shades around her eyes. “Who is she?”
“Oh, that’s Uma Sinner,” Izzy says with a proud chuckle. “By day, he’s my accountant, Paul Rossi, and by night, he transforms into Uma Sinner, the most popular drag queen in Tilton. I asked her to come perform tonight, and miraculously, she was available.”
“Wait,” I say. “He or she? I am confused.”
Izzy points at Uma. “Shewhen she’s Uma.Hewhen he’s Paul. Make sense?”
I nod. “Yes, thank you for explaining.”
Izzy gives me an appreciative nod while filling a bowl with peanuts and pushing it toward us.
“Zev, what is this song?” I lean in to ask him. “I have heard it before, yes?”
“Yeah, it’sRolling in the Deepby Adele,” he says. “I’ve played it on the piano.”
Ah, that is how I know it, because of how many times he practiced it.
“Oh shit! Come on, Vanilla,” Samantha suddenly cheers.
She and Vanessa are hand-in-hand when they leave the bar and scurry into the center of the floor to dance. The song has changed, and again, I do not recognize it. I should listen to more music, clearly. “What is this one called?” I ask Zev.
“This isFlowersby Miley Cyrus.”
Though I have not heard the original version, Uma sings it beautifully.
When Samantha starts to dance, I cannot make my eyes look elsewhere. She is far too dazzling. Her hips sway in a steady rhythm that leaves me hypnotized. The way her breasts bounce and her stomach jiggles as she moves leaves my mouth dry enough that I throw back my mojito in two large sips. “Another, please,” I say to Izzy, who nods and takes my empty glass and pours a fresh one.
The only time my attention drifts from Samantha’s spectacular body is when a man I do not recognize inches closer to her. My fists clench at my sides when she notices him and starts shaking her ass against his cock. A cock that thankfully is concealed by dark denim, but still, it is far too close to her for my comfort.
Destroy him,my draxilio urges.
But I cannot. As tempted as I am to reach down this man’s throat and pull out his spine, I must refrain. Samantha is my sex friend. Nothing more.
“Are you well, Mylo?” Zev asks, his eyes boring into mine as he waits for my next move.
Unclenching my teeth, I reply, “Fine.”
Axil growls steadily to my right as the man behind Samantha moves to dance with both her and Vanessa. My brother pushes himself off the bar and marches straight over, then stands perfectly still, glowering at the man until he saunters away.
Vanessa leans into her mate, giving him a playful smack on the arm, and when the song ends, they all return to the bar. Samantha stands next to me, and the possessive need I felt pumping through my blood a moment ago has me reaching out, just a finger, to the small hand that hangs an inch away. The distance between us is too much, and I shift my weight onto my right foot, closing the space that separates our bodies just enough for my pinky to lightly brush against the back of her hand.
Her hand turns over, and her pinky entwines with mine. Still, it is not enough. My need for her is like wildfire tearing through my bones, and the only relief is her touch.
“Mylo,” Vanessa calls, holding up my mojito, “your drink.”
Samantha rips her hand from my grasp and pretends to yawn, stretching her arms over her head in such an obvious way that seems like it would elicit more questions than holding my hand in the first place would have, but we are in public, I must remember, and the moment has passed.
Izzy calls me over to a spot at the end of the bar and I step away from Samantha to chat. “You know, Uma has a break in her schedule next month.” The Tipsy owner dries a glass and sets it on the bar. “You should see if she’s free to do a story time session at the library for the kids. Vanessa said your trivia night was a success, and you’re looking to have more events.”
I turn to face the stage and notice Uma has stepped down to the floor, mingling with the crowd as she sings. Her energy is palpable, and no one in the audience can take their eyes off her. Likewise, there is not a frown to be found in all of Tipsy’s. Uma’s warmth radiates like a halo as she engages with each person she passes. She is accessible and jovial while also maintaining queen-like poise. I cannot imagine a better person to hold the attention of a group of squirming children.
“Apologies that I do not know much about drag queens,” I confess to Izzy. “Would she even be interested in doing such a thing?”
