Page 5 of Milked

When I didn’t respond, Finn pressed his hand to my forearm, sending tingles up my body that I didn’t understand. “You need to come, Ryder. The party will be epic. We’ll have great music, drinks, food… we have a pool.”

“I… really appreciate you thinking of me. It’s really kind, but I’m not so good at parties. I’m usually one of those awkward guys who tucks himself into a corner, and people watch as he nurses a beer. You’ll just be bored with me around, anyway.”

His grin never left his face. “Oh, I highly doubt that. I bet you can be quite interesting when you want to be.” Then he put his hands together in a praying motion, batting his thick, dark lashes. “Please say you’ll come. I’d like to get to know you more.”

More? We didn’t know each other at all.

I smiled politely and nodded, figuring it was best to please the boss’s stepson. “I guess I’ll be there then. Thank you.”

“Excellent!” He patted the bar twice and finished off his bourbon. “Bring your swimsuit.”

With that, he walked off to wherever, getting lost in the crowd. I may or may not have stared at his pert ass.

While attractive, I didn’t understand why he wanted me, of all people, to be at his birthday party, but I told him I would be there, so I would. At least I’d have something attractive to look at as I people-watched in my corner.

I came out into the living room, shirtless, to find all my roommates gathered there. Living in a communal apartment allowed me to find a nice place in the center of town, one that I could actually afford. I made decent tips, and while I could pay rent, everything was expensive here, so it took a large bite out of my income.

These new communal apartments were based on dorms at universities, but much nicer, and our private bedrooms were a decent size. The rest of the place was a shared space.

The complex had cleaning services and events. Ours also offered a parking garage, a courtyard garden, a fitness center, and a laundry room. Even better, the place was furnished, which was perfect since I had shit when I moved here.

It just took some adjusting to learn how to live with three other strangers in one shared space, but I grew to adore them all.

“Which shirt?” I asked, holding up a plain white long-sleeve option, which was the safer choice, and a charcoal-gray, short-sleeve button-up that fit my form better. Growing up on a farm, I wasn’t used to fitted clothing, but I wasn’t on a farm anymore.

“The gray one,” said Emma, our oldest resident at forty-one-years old and divorced. She had been a stay-at-home wife until her husband found a younger model, leaving Emma with nothing. She ended up finding a job as a server at a half-decent restaurant in Georgetown and made good tips.

She was very pretty, with a splash of freckles over her pale skin and curly blonde hair, so I didn’t understand what her ex-husband’s deal was.

Luna nodded. “Yup, gray one.” She was a student at George Washington University, majoring in women and gender studies. She was queer like me, which was nice.

Luna was gorgeous and curvy. Her tight, bleached curls contrasted with her tawny skin, and she wore dimples whenever she smiled. I would’ve been interested in her had she not been a lesbian.

“I agree with the ladies,” Atlas said, nodding, making his nearly black curls bounce. He was our part-time artist and full-time barista in the mornings and a server at a restaurant in the evenings, but he was looking for better full-time work to make more money and not have to work evenings.

“It’s kind of tight, though.” I was still unsure, feeling more comfortable in the looser white button-up.

Luna held up three fingers, dropping one. “First, you want to show off those muscles of yours. Second, you’re going to a party at a mansion. Don’t look like the country boy you are. Third, it looks hot on you.”

“If you say so.”

I set the white shirt over a chair and shrugged on the gray one, buttoning it up. Emma stood and walked over to me, standing nearly a foot shorter than my six-one height. She rolled up my sleeves a bit to expose my biceps. “There,” she said, patting my chest. “Now you look handsome. Surely, you’ll find someone to date tonight.”

“God, I hope so. It’s been lonely.”

As soon as I tucked in my shirt, she untucked it. “Leave it as is.”

I smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

“You’re going to get eaten alive,” Atlas chuckled.

Luna reached out to Atlas, sitting next to her on the couch, and smacked his arm. “Now, why did you go and say a thing like that? He’s already nervous as it is.”

Atlas raised his hands in defense. “I’m just saying… rich people and country boys don’t mix. No offense, Rye. You’re awesome and delectably adorable, but these people? They eat those they see as less than them for breakfast.”

“Enough, Atlas,” Emma admonished. “Our Rye here works in a fancy nightclub, serving the wealthy and powerful. He’ll be just fine.”

I shook out my clammy hands. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Sure,” I said, though it wasn’t very convincing. Before anyone could reassure or agree with me, I rushed to my bedroom and spritzed on some cologne. I wasn’t very good with fashion or fancy colognes, so I had to get help at the department store, not wanting to look like I walked out of a cornfield whenever I worked. It cost money, but I didn’t do too badly on tips. Some patrons tipped well. Some didn’t tip at all, greedy bastards.

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