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“You don’t have to hook up with anyone, but you could dance with them. We could make it a group thing if it would make you feel better. Invite Harrison and a few of the other guys.”
“No. Not a group thing,” he answers a little too fast. Maybe it’s too soon for a public outing. “But I guess just us could go. The players will all be having an early night, anyway. We could go tonight.”
Tonight? Fuck. “Sure. Tonight. I’ll get ready.”
I close my bedroom door behind me and stare at my suitcase. What am I doing? What if he meets someone and wants to hook up with them? What if this is just the start of his awakening and he begins going out and hooking up in every city we go to? Shit. I really didn’t think this thing through. It’s too late now. I offered to take him out, so now we go out.
I do a quick search, find a club not too far away, and text it to Brendan. While I wait for his reply I change, and then change again because nothing I try on looks good enough.
BRENDAN: Looks okay to me. Do you think we can go together without anyone seeing us? Maybe we should take separate taxis?
Shit, I didn’t think of that either. Wow, really on the ball tonight, Ian. I check the map again and switch the directions to show the path we would take if we walked there. It’s pretty good, with major streets, and no alleyways. Perfect.
IAN: It’s walking distance. How about I go first, and you follow a short distance behind until we get closer to the club? It’s not like anyone else will be planning to go clubbing on our first night in Boston.
He shoots back a thumbs-up emoji, and I finally settle on my black jeans and a light blue short-sleeved Henley. My hair is short enough that a tiny bit of wax is all it needs, and I think I’m good to go, but then I open my door and lay eyes on him.
“Wow,” I say before I can stop myself. His cheeks flush, and he smiles that sheepish nervous half-smile he does that’s so fucking adorable.
“Thanks, I wasn’t sure, and my hair is too long. I need to cut it.”
“Don’t!” My stomach does a weird flippy thing. “The curls suit you,” I tell him, and his smile deepens.
“I guess we should go,” he says, and my attention moves past him to his bed. The bed I could be groping him in right now if I didn’t have this stupid idea that he needs to experience a fucking gay club.
“I’ll go first.”
“And then you’ll be waiting for me to come behind you.”
Fuck, I wish, I think as my dick twitches at the thought of him behind me, coating my ass.
“Yep, I’ll wait for you near the club,” I say, then leave the room before the bulge in my pants can grow any further.
Chapter nineteen
Duckie
Nighttime in Boston isa familiar sight. My brother used to live here, and I’ve covered my share of hockey games in the city, too. What I’ve never done is go to a gay club. I was pretty shocked when Ian suggested it. A little because I thought he was having fun with what we were doing and I’d hoped that tonight we would’ve been doing more of that, but also, he didn’t come across as a club kind of guy. But seeing as I’ve never been to one, how am I supposed to know what a gay club kind of guy is?
I’ve been trying to figure myself out since these feelings for Ian began, and I did the whole porn test, but none of those guys did anything for me. I’ve been trapped in a room full of sweaty baseball players dancing and carrying on, and not one of them drew my eye the way Ian does either. Maybe I’m not even bisexual. Maybe I’m something else.
I haven’t exactly been rushing to catch up with Ian, so when I finally catch sight of him, he’s waiting in a long line of men outside of the club, under a big neon sign that illuminates the street below in a pink glow.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I joke as I take a place in the line behind him.
“Small world,” he replies without looking back. The bass of the music thuds past the chatter of the people in line and only grows louder with each step we take closer to the front. I think about bailing more than once, but when we finally get to the front of the line and the door guy waves us through, I follow Ian inside.
I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess what I wasn’t expecting is that it would be just like every other club I’ve been to, except that ninety-nine percent of the patrons are men, and at least half of them, have their shirts off. The music is thumping and lights are flashing and the vibe is incredible.
Ian moves toward the bar, and I follow, thankful he didn’t go straight for the dancefloor. I track my eyes across the room, looking for who knows what. A spark maybe. Is that what this is with Ian? A few guys check him out on our way through the crowd, and my chest tightens. Is this the real reason he wanted to come here? Does he want to hook up with someone new? I mean, if he wants to, he can. I have no claim on him, but the idea sickens me. I don’t want to see him hooking up with anyone else.
“I’m not sure about this,” I say, leaning in close to his ear so I can be heard over the thump, thump of the music.
“You’ve been to clubs before, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Not like this.”
“It’s the same. People talk, drink, dance, sometimes make out, and occasionally get a blowjob in the bathroom.”
