Page 46 of Angel

I grab for one of the water bottles we keep stocked back here, twist the top off and take a quick sip. The water isn’t cold, but it’s enough to shock me back into some semblance of normalcy.

I can do this. I’ve done it hundreds of times before. It’s just a more pronounced case of stage fright. Once I get out there, my body will remember what to do, and it’ll all go off without a hitch.

There’s a buzzing in my ears as Anna heads out to announce me. It’s so loud I barely hear the music when it starts playing. The curtains rise, the spotlight zeroes in on me, and the audience goes wild.

With the lights shining in my face, it’s difficult to look past the edge of the stage, but that doesn’t matter. It’s like I’ve got a homing beacon on Angel and my eyes immediately seek him out in the crowd. He’s by the bar, tucked into a corner, holding a pint of beer, with his free hand stuffed into his jeans pocket. He pulls it out when he realizes I’m looking at him and gives me a little wave. It takes everything inside me not to wave back.

How terrible would it be if I jumped off the stage right now and ran into Angel’s arms? Pretty terrible, I think. I’d never hear the end of it from Anna. Angel will have to wait. But that doesn’t mean I can’t dance for him. I can dance the fuck out of it for him.

Deep breath. Here we go.

The strains of Sia’s “Chandelier” courses through me, jump-starting each cell as I start to move. Every sweep of my arms feels larger, every kick of my legs feels higher, every twist and turn is more pronounced as I dance to the very tip of every finger. I pour myself into the performance, into every twerk of my ass, every flick of my hair.

The buzzing in my ears turns into a roar, though I can’t tell if it’s from the thumping of my heart or the excitement of the crowd. It fuels me, though, the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I lift myself up onto the pole and spin.

I lean my shoulder against the pole, feet planted a few feet away, and slide down, letting my body arch with my groin pushed out. The skimpy fabric of my thong leaves very little to the imagination and the audience shows its appreciation with wolf whistles.

When the song finally ends, I’m in my final pose, hanging off the pole. I unfold myself and rise to my feet to take my bow. My gaze immediately flits to where Angel was standing. Except he’s not there anymore.

During my performance, he moved closer to the stage, skirting around a couple tables like he wanted to get a better view. From the look of awe on his face, I’m pretty sure he saw plenty.

I take my bow, then holding Angel’s gaze, I blow him a kiss.

Anna’s already on stage, shooing me off so she can introduce the next performer. I scurry off and rush back to the dressing room for my robe. I’ve been out front in my practically nonexistent dance outfits before, but I often get waylaid by handsy guys who want to cop a feel. After several years of performing, I’ve accepted that it’s a part of the job.

But I don’t want to get sidetracked today. I’m making a beeline for Angel because his hands are the only ones I want on me.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

ANGEL

I think I was more nervous turning up at The Bronzed Rail than I was when shooting gay porn. There was a part of me that wondered whether I should manufacture another babysitting emergency so I could beg off tonight too.

But in the end, my need to see Rhys in person, to see him dance, overruled the nerves that threatened to make me upchuck my dinner.

I held my breath while the bouncer at the door checked my ID. He kept glancing from my driver’s license to my face, to the list he had on the iPad, like he didn’t quite believe that I wanted to go into a gay nightclub. I swear it took him several minutes of double-checking before he let me in.

It’s only marginally better inside. It’s crowded, obviously, but more than that, it feels like everyone knows everyone. Guys greet each other by name and with kisses on the lips. They’re so casual and comfortable with each other, which makes me feel like I’ve got a flashing neon sign on my chest. It says, “Straight Dude. Does Not Belong Here.”

Actually, I probably don’t need a sign. I bet they can tell just from what I’m wearing. And people are definitely watching me, their gazes heavy as they scan me from head to toe.

I’m in my nice jeans and a freshly ironed button-down shirt, but I might as well be going to a business meeting compared to the other outfits in here. See-through shirts, leather pants, scraps of fabric that look almost like bras, tiny little shorts that leave half the butt hanging out.

There’s also an alarming amount of glitter everywhere and everything sparkles in the light reflecting off the disco ball hanging from the ceiling.

I gulp and wipe my clammy palms on my thighs, then head toward the bar. I need a drink, or at the very least, something to hold on to so I know what to do with my hands.

Trying to move through the space only adds to how awkward I feel. I’m so big and bulky that I keep bumping into people as I squeeze through the crowd. I get sly looks over shoulders and a few people mutter something about daddies. My stomach churns, but I can’t tell if it’s plain old nerves or the fluttering feeling I get whenever I’m around Rhys.

By the time I get to the bar, my heart is racing and my tummy is all tied up in knots.

The bartender looks bored and annoyed when he gruffly demands my drink order. I ask for a beer and he brings one over, setting it in front of me with a thud, not even sparing me a glance. He’s a little rude, to be honest, but I don’t mind—this is the most normal and familiar interaction I’ve had since walking up to the club’s front door.

There’s a little pocket of space a few steps away from the bar, behind a group of guys sitting at a table. I tuck myself into it and plaster my back to the wall. I take a long swig of beer and almost chug down the entire bottle of cold, hoppy brew, stopping with the back of my hand pressed to my lips.

If I finish the beer too quickly, I’ll have to get another. And I can’t quite brave the crowds around the bar again so soon.

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