Jesus Christ. I give Antonio one last smile, then grab my useless friend and drag him away before he can embarrass himself any further.
“What the Hell was that?” I hiss when we’re out of earshot of the bar. “Did you have a stroke? Did you temporarily forget English?”
“Yes to both,” he groans, running a hand over his face. “God. I don’t know what it is about him. I haven’t even kissed the guy yet, for fuck’s sake.”
I stop dead in the middle of the club floor. The square panels under our feet glow, lighting up his face a soft blue. “Seriously?”
He grimaces and pulls out a seat at a random table, plonking down our glasses. I sit next to him, stunned. Benny does not date. He meets people on apps, takes them out for one drink, and then brings them home. I’ve never seen him get this frazzled over someone. “How long have you been talking to this guy?”
“Like, two months?”
I gape. “Wow. Okay. Shit.” I glance over my shoulder. Antonio is shaking up a mixed drink and staring at the back of Benny’s head. He quickly drops his gaze when he sees me looking. “So what’s the game plan, tonight? Are you trying to get with him?”
Benny looks frustrated. “I don’t know! Flirt with him? Stare at him? Just be in his general vicinity and bask in the light reflected off his cheekbones?”
“Theyaresharp,” I agree.
He groans. “He’s so hot he breaks my brain.” He glances back over his shoulder. “Like—Jesus, the man hasarms.”
“Most men do, Benny. Is that your only requirement?”
“And he’snice,” he practically moans. “Do you know how hard it is to find a nice,hotman?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Piss off. You just had group sex with your neighbors.” He gets one of the straws between his lips and takes a massive gulp of our drink. “I don’t know. He’s just… nice. I like him. A lot.”
I have about fifty more questions, but before I can probe him further, all of the lights in the club change colour, flashing from blue to white. Everybody quietens down as a man saunters onto the stage, wearing tight leather pants and a flashy silver jacket.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he purrs into his microphone. “Thank you all for joining us tonight.” A scream goes up from the crowd. A few feet away, a very drunk-looking girl whoops, jumping onto her table and tottering dangerously in her heels. Three of her friends rush to catch her as she starts to fall.
The announcer laughs. “My name is Seth, and I’ll be your host for tonight. Are you all ready to see somesexy men?” Another cheer. He beams at us. “Then please put in your last drink orders and take your seats, because theMagic Nights Cabaretis about to commence!”
“We are talking about this later,” I mutter to Benny. “But for the record, if you get lucky, I am more than capable of ordering myself an Uber and going home alone.”
Benny frowns at me. “But I am a big strong man, and you are a frail tiny woman. I don’t trust you to order your own car service!”
I flick a cherry at his face, and he grins as the lights suddenly go black. A scream rises from the audience; hundreds of drunk, horny women cheering and whooping. Despite myself, I feel anticipation curl in my stomach as music starts to play.
Twenty-Nine
Cyrus
I stare at my reflection in the dressing room mirror, taking in the bags under my eyes and the stubble on my cheeks. Half-naked men wander around me, chatting, spraying deodorant, lifting dumbbells. The walls are practically vibrating with the music they’re playing on the club floor—some sort of electro-pop song that’s getting the crowd riled up for us.
Normally, I’d be buzzing by now. Fixing up my costume, or tossing back a shot, or oiling myself up. But right now, I just can’t be bothered. I feel like shit. My thoughts keep floating back to Beth.
I feel like I’ve lied to her.
I mean, technically, I have, even if it’s just a lie by omission; I’ve made her think that I’m not a stripper. And now I can’t shake the feeling that I tricked her into having sex with me last night.
It didn’t really cross my mind at the time, but when I woke up this morning and saw her curled up with Jack, the realisation hit me over the head like a fucking sledgehammer. The two of them looked so cute together, spooning, their heads on the same pillow. The computer nerd and the girl-next-door. They both justfit. Neither of them strips off for money, or swings their genitalia around in other peoples’ faces to get bank notes shoved down their underwear. Some of the guys here might not agree with me, but I feel like what we do here is a kind of sex work. WouldBeth,our sweet, gentle, child-loving, apple-pie-scented nannyreallywant to sleep with a sex worker?She probably wouldn’t want to touch me with a barge pole if she knew the truth.
I should have just left her and Jack alone when I saw them kissing on the sofa yesterday, but of course, I had to crowbar myself between them. Because I’m a selfish prick.
I groan internally, rubbing my eyes. I have to do it. I have to tell her about my job. And then she’s probably going to hate me, and she’s never going to come back to the flat again, and Cami will be heartbroken, and Jack will be crushed, and—
A hand slaps onto my shoulder. “You alright, Romeo?” Someone calls over my head. I glance up to see Harrison, aka Hunky Harry, checking himself out in my dressing room mirror. He’s already ready for the performance, dressed in baggy firefighter pants and fluorescent orange suspenders. His naked chest is shimmering with glitter.