Page 24 of Reckless On Ice

“Ivanna Dix needs a big, strapping beefcake of a man to come up here and show us what he’s made of for this next performance. Tess Tickles let me know there are two such lads in attendance, and one might just be the bad boy we need,” Fonda Cox says, stretching out a long, manicured finger and slowly turning around the room until she stops at our table. “You, big boy with the long hair, look like just the man for the job. How about we show him our appreciation and get him up here!”

The crowd turns to our table with curious and appreciative looks alike. My face goes up in flames as they start screaming and clapping to encourage me to go up on that stage. “Oh,fuck no,” I say as Lilah howls in glee and points at me.

“It’s not so bad. You play in front of a crowd way bigger than this, and you like being objectified and having your ego stroked, anyway. This is exactly the crowd to do it,” Knox counters, squeezing my shoulder to incentivize me to leave the safety of my table for the spotlight.

Just then, three of the queens stop at our table in a cloud of wigs, pantyhose, and sequins, and I no longer have a choice. They haul me from the table with remarkably powerful hands and frog march me up on the stage as they titter and compliment my arm muscles and call mepretty. When they move to the side, I’m suddenly in a spotlight, and all hell breaks loose on the stage. “I’m Coming Out” by Diana Ross starts to play and my heart drops into my ass. I cut my hands in front of me in ano waygesture and look around frantically. I don't want anyone thinking I volunteered to be part of this act or knew what song would be played, and this is somehow part of some big coming out plan. I’m not gay. I can’t be.Except…a little voice in my head hedges, and I shut it down before it can go on. Not happening.

Now what the fuck is going on? The three queens who dragged me up here know some kind of choreography and are dancing around me like I’m a prop. One of them positions my arm into a biceps curl and then abruptly hangs off it, so I have to flex to not drop her. They’re treating me like a damn jungle gym. I stare out into the crowd, in the general direction of my table, and can vaguely make out Knox, grinning and laughinglike this is his birthday and I’ve made his whole fucking year. Okay, fine, if this is what makes him happy and shows I can do nice things, I can get into it a little.

I do some more muscle man poses, and suddenly the entire room is catcalling and dollar bills are flying onto the stage as people get out of their seats to get closer. This is all it takes to entertain the drag brunch crowd? Easy enough. I lift my shirt and flex my abs, getting the biggest reaction of all. I smile and take the hand of one of the closest queens, twirl her into me, and dip her just as the song transitions to “Whatta Man” by Salt-N-Pepa and En Vogue.

“Oh, you’re strong,” she says with a smile. I set her back on her feet and attempt to leave the stage, but she grabs my arm and holds me in place. “Not yet, honey bear, don’t you hear this song? It’s your anthem, baby. We need you up here.”

Another drag queen enters the stage and approaches me as she lip-syncs to the song about a man with a body like Arnold. I make an “Oh gosh, me?” face at her as I press my hand to my chest like I’m so flattered. I cross my arms because it’s fucking awkward to be up here, not knowing what to do, even if I’m trying to play this off for Knox’s sake. My heart is pounding from the scrutiny, but it also kind of feels good to know that I’m the object of attention for so many of these people. Knox was right, I do want to be objectified. He knows me better than I do, apparently.

The drag queen, who I think is called Ivanna Dix, drapes a purple feather boa around my shoulders, and suddenly, I havea prop. I grab the ends and shimmy my shoulders, getting the crowd going again. More dollars end up on the stage, and now I know I can do this. I move my hips back and forth and even pop my ass a bit in an attempt to twerk, which gets even more of a reaction. I catch Knox’s eye, and he’s looking at me with awe and like he has no idea who I am, so I keep going. I gyrate my hips in his direction, pumping along to the beat of the song, and then turn and shake my ass. I have no rhythm, and this cannot be called dancing, but it’s certainly entertaining.

When the song ends, I’m kind of out of breath from the theatrics of it all, and Ivanna Dix bends, scoops up a handful of bills, and shoves them down the open front of my shirt. “You deserve this and more, honey,” she says, squeezing my biceps and leading me to the edge of the stage. “That was priceless. I should have you come out for all my sets, and I’ll be taking home more money than I’ll know what to do with.”

I pull my wallet out of my pocket and fish out the hundred, holding it up. “I should be the one thanking you. That just proved to my roommate that I could overcome stereotypes and have a little fun, so you deserve it.”

“I won’t stop you, baby,” she says, leaning forward from the stage and presenting her contoured chest and the stuffed bodice of her dress for me to stick the bill into. It’s one of the oddest things I’ve done, but I’m racking those up today, so I shouldn't be surprised by this.

I walk back to my table slowly because I’m stopped by more than a few people giving me their numbers or saying I wasthe highlight of their brunch, and complimenting me. When I finally slide back into our table, Knox is leaning back with a satisfied grin, and Lilah is looking impressed. I hand the wad of cash from my shirt to Knox.

“Thanks for taking me to drag brunch,” I say.

“That was something,” Knox replies, a little awed.

“I got video and pictures, so we know it actually happened. I’ll send some to you,” Lilah says to Knox.

I groan. “Great, just what I need, evidence of this out in the wild with the one person who wants to take me down more than anything.”

“Hey, we’re past that,” Lilah says, waving her hand like it’s nothing that she trashed me in the press. “This is insurance to keep you from doing anything to Knox in the future.”

I don't think Lilah and I will ever be the kind of friends she and Knox seem to be, but I can appreciate her wanting to protect him. “Make sure you only send him the ones where I look good,” I say, giving in to the teasing. “Can’t have him holding bad photos of me over my head.”

Lilah laughs wickedly. “Deal.”

Okay, drag brunch wasn’t so bad.

Thirteen

Knox

Istare at Goldie’s fish tank and make a sound between a snort of anger and a sigh of defeat. It’s littered with fish flakes. They’re floating on the surface and sunk to the bottom of the tank, coating the bright pink rocks, fake plants, and the sparkly castle in gross goop. I pick up the jar of fish flakes and realize it’s half empty.Fucking Ryder.He must have dumped a week’s worth of food into the tank before he left on his road trip this morning. I told him before drag brunch last weekend that if he could keep it together, I’d watch Goldie for him while he’s out of town, yet somehow it didn’t click for him.

I queue up a new audiobook—a gay billionaire firefighter and sexy mechanic romance that is so full ofyearning and desire, I can hardly keep from sighing as I scoop Goldie out of the tank and plop her into a cup of water so I can clean up the mess Ryder made. Funny, I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. But even though this is a physical mess to clean, it doesn’t bother me quite as much. I use the net to skim the water for all the soggy flakes I can catch, drain the tank, rinse the rocks until I can’t see any more of the nasty flakes, then refill the water and treat it with the drops Ryder brought home from the pet store. I finally release Goldie from her temporary holding cell back into her sparkly castle wonderland. Ryder went out of his way to decorate the fish tank. It’s like a mansion for a goldfish and incredibly…girly. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Ryder has a feminine side or might lean a bit bi himself to have made the choices he did for the fish.

Could Ryder be bi? I think about the way he touched me in the kitchen, pulling me close and grinding his hard cock against my hip. There was no denying he was turned on by the situation, if not by me. He made sure I felt his lips when he spoke his words directly into my ear, wanting a response from me. Just how straight is Ryder? It’s a spectrum for most people, anyway. But it’s not my place to assume anything. It’s easier to remember Ryder likes a reaction, and is reckless enough to push his limits to get one out of me than it is to consider he would have done that because he has feelings for me that toe the line of platonic or verge into my kind of territory that has him wanting me. I’m smarter than that.

Once Goldie is safely back in her clean tank, I head to the petstore. As I slide into my car, I type out a text to Ryder.

Knox: You’re an attempted murderer.

Ryder’s reply comes minutes later. I wait until I'm at a light to check the message, and his confusion is obvious.

Ryder: The fuck? Did you choke on your protein shake or something? I had nothing to do with that if that’s the case.

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