Destiny (Waiting for Forever) (32 page)

“You’re number five, right after Brian and Corey,” Alex said after making his way back through the group of guys milling around and waiting to get started.

“What about you?” I asked, more out of politeness than any real sense of curiosity. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m on ninth, after all the guys get nice and drunk,” Alex said with a sigh. “Better tips, but more hands.” I knew what he meant, and silently I thanked Nick and Julio for putting me on early. If I had my way, I’d dance on the back of the stage so they couldn’t reach me, but I wouldn’t make any tips that way and Steven would be furious.

“Brandon, I need you on stage! The rest of you in the first set, stay close,” Julio called, and I went over to stand next to Josh and Mike, who were going to dance second and fourth. They both ignored me, and I sat down on a nearby chair to wait. The metal was cold on my thighs because my shorts didn’t really cover anything. I always danced in a simple T-shirt and a pair of cutoff shorts with a jock underneath. It covered what it needed to but exposed everything else, giving guys the illusion they would be able to screw me later if they gave a good enough tip.

Brian wandered over to stand by Mike, and I sat with my head bowed so I didn’t have to make eye contact with him. The crowd erupted in applause and cheering as Brandon’s song started. I could see him dancing from where I sat. The straight boy’s moves were kind of wooden and predictable, but no one cared if he couldn’t dance. The crowd cared only about watching his hot, nearly naked body undulating in front of them, trying to simulate sex.

It seemed to go on forever, but really, it wasn’t long enough because soon it would be my turn under the lights. When the song changed and Josh moved out onto the stage, I looked up at Brian. He was dancing with Mike to the new song and laughing. My heart hurt to watch them together. It took a minute to realize that Mike was helping Brian get ready. Brian must not have danced before, and Mike cared enough about him to work with him and try to make him more comfortable. When Brian stumbled on a turn, he laughed and looked up at me. Our eyes met for just a few seconds before he turned away. He said something quietly in Mike’s ear, and the other man glanced over at me. I sighed and went back to looking at the floor, waiting for my turn.

When the music changed again to a slow, sensuous number, I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer to the stage to watch. I didn’t recognize the song, but it had a subtle club beat behind a woman’s low, seductive voice. Brian wore jeans paired with a white ribbed tank top that he removed slowly and tossed behind him. Hypnotized by the way his body glistened and undulated under the lights, I openly stared as he moved. Despite where we were, he was beautiful. Light played off the lighter strands of his hair, bleached in the California sun. As the music continued, he turned and pulled down his jeans, showing his tiny blue briefs. Embarrassment for him made my body burn, and I felt sick when one of the guys from the audience came up to tip him.

I spent the rest of the song alternating between watching him and averting my eyes. During the times I focused on the way his body moved, my own body responded, remembering how incredible he felt under me and how his kisses made me believe in redemption. I felt a fine sheen of sweat break out on my body. Even when I looked away because guys lined up to touch him, my cock stayed hard.

Brian’s shy smile and sweet boy-next-door looks made him irresistible.

I practically ran from the wings when the song wound down and his dance came to a slow close. It took a few seconds for him to come off the stage with cash and clothes in his hands. Nearly naked, he hugged Mike while the other guy headed for his turn under the lights. He laughed and said something I didn’t hear because the song Mike had chosen was blaring through the speakers. Once Mike went out to dance, Brian walked past me without a word and stood by Emilio, who immediately put an arm around his waist. Brian rested his head on Emilio’s shoulder, and the sadness in his face made my chest ache. I stood watching them for so long I almost missed my cue to go on when Mike finished up. Alex pushed me toward the stage as they announced my name, and I hurried out.

I stood at center stage of the darkened stage with my head down and waited.

When the first chords of “Sweet Home Alabama” started to blare through the speakers behind me, slightly distorted by the volume, the lights blinded me as they came up over the stage. I bobbed my head in time with the beat, getting into the music. As the full band of instruments joined the single guitar, I swiveled my hips and swayed from side to side, letting my body fall into the rhythm. With one hand on my stomach and the other on my hip, my shoulders rolled. I lacked the grace of a real dancer, but the guys in the audience weren’t here for grace. To them, I didn’t exist above the waist.

During the times I was forced to dance like an organ grinder’s monkey, I tried to imagine I was dancing for Brian. We were back in the tree house, and he had put the song into the CD player and wanted me to strip for him. There were no drunken guys, no gropes or pinches, no paper cuts or bruises, just Brian and me. In the failing light of a sweet summer night, I could see the heat in his eyes. When I turned, he made a grab for me while we laughed. The illusion shattered when a bill slid under my balls while I was facing away from the stage. It startled me, and my steps faltered for a few beats, but I recovered.

“You have the skinniest legs. I just want to throw them over my shoulders,” a guy said and shoved a bill down the back of my shorts, but I turned and pushed him at the same time. One of the bouncers, late as usual, grabbed him and pushed him back into a seat.

“Jesus,” I muttered to myself and jerked my shirt off. It wasn’t graceful or sexy, but I just wanted to get this over with. Another guy approached me; he was older, balding, and more cautious than the last guy. I thrust my hips into his face, feeling mildly nauseated, and he slid a bill into my pocket. Just over halfway through the song, I slid my shorts down my long legs and kicked them off, feeling ridiculously exposed in the tiny jock and a cheap pair of cowboy boots. As I executed another turn, something off stage caught my attention. Brian stood just out of sight watching me dance. That should have made me feel nervous or ashamed, but instead, I felt comforted because he was so close.

As the song’s ending approached, the first guy stood up and staggered toward the stage again. I looked around desperately for one of the bouncers but didn’t see anyone.

“God, you’re hot,” he slurred and grabbed me through my jock. He started to dance drunkenly in front of me. My face burning, I looked over at Brian, who had taken several steps forward. I shook my head marginally, warning him to stay back. If this guy started throwing punches, I didn’t want him to hurt Brian. After a minute, another bouncer jumped up onto the low platform we used as a stage and pulled the guy back. I watched as he pulled the guy past the tables and toward the door. Not waiting for my song to officially end, I grabbed my clothes and my tips. I stormed offstage. Brian waited there for me, and as I passed, he reached out to squeeze my hand, but I jerked it away.

The look of utter devastation on his face was just more than I could take.

I grabbed his hand and pulled so he would look up. When his eyes met mine, I jerked my head toward an alcove I knew was behind the heavy stage curtain. Guys sometimes went back in there for a quick blowjob, or to score drugs. When I let go of his hand, I went straight to the curtain and slipped behind it. I’d been waiting for less than thirty seconds or so when he joined me. I didn’t even hesitate. I took a step forward and buried my hands in his curls, pulled his face to mine, and then I kissed him with everything I had. I didn’t let any doubts or reservations enter my mind. In that moment, I wanted to show him exactly what he meant to me.

The music sounded muffled behind the curtain, and I felt Brian moan into my mouth, which tingled down my spine. We needed to break the kiss so we could talk, but neither of us seemed to be able to pull away. It had been so long since we were able to kiss each other because of the love we felt, and I didn’t want to lose that feeling. But there were things I needed for him to understand, so I pulled back and looked into his face.

“I love you so much, Brian,” I said, stroking his cheek with my thumb. Hope kindled in the depths of his brown eyes, and I hated myself so much, knowing that I had to destroy it. “You wear that broken, devastated expression when you think no one else is looking, but I’m looking, Brian. I’m always looking. I can’t stand it anymore; it’s killing me. Yes, I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I will never stop loving you.” I tried to continue, but Brian interrupted.

“I love you too, Jamie, more than anything,” he said and sounded slightly out of breath from our kiss. He reminded me of a little kid who’d just gotten everything he wanted for Christmas. I just held his face in my hands and looked at him, knowing I would never get my fill. “Jamie, why ‘Sweet Home Alabama’? I thought you hated Alabama?” he asked before he kissed me again and delayed my answer for several long breathless seconds.

“Because that song reminds me of you, baby,” I told him as I pushed the damp hair back from his eyes. “You are my home and you were in Alabama. I could lose myself in that song and think about you.”

“Jamie, we are going to be together. Just you and me, I promise,” he whispered harsh and desperate against my ear.

“I don’t even know why you’d still want me, Brian. I… I’m a junkie, a whore. You should find someone who deserves you and be happy,” I said, staring over his left shoulder so I wouldn’t have to see his eyes. He cupped my cheek in his hand and pulled gently so I looked at him.

“I know that you’re not the same guy. I’m not the same guy either, but one fundamental thing about me has not changed. I need you, Jamie.” He leaned forward and kissed me lightly.

“I… I need you too, but I don’t know how…,” I stammered.

“Hey, kid, have you seen Dylan?” Steven’s voice rang through the air, harsh and cold. My eyes went wide with fear, and I looked at Brian, who had remained calm. He wasn’t able to recognize the sound of that voice, but I sure as hell could.

Brian pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and sent a text to someone. The fear in my eyes must have been clear because Brian took my hand and held it tightly in his. His phone vibrated, and he looked at it—and smirked.

“Hey, are you looking for Dylan?” Mike’s voice was loud over the music, and I heard Steven grunt in agreement. “He said he wasn’t feeling well and went back to the john. It’s out by the bar.” The voices stopped, and I wondered silently if Steven had gone. The curtain flew back, nearly giving me heart failure as Mike walked in.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly. He had probably just saved my life and Brian’s too.

Mike looked at me as if I were dog crap on his shoe and finally said, “I didn’t do it for
you
.” The words were like cold steel through my chest, and I backed through the slit in the curtain. Brian and Mike stayed behind the curtain as I raced back toward the bar to look for Steven before he got even angrier.

I wanted to make it through the night without any of my bones broken.

Nineteen

T
HE
silence in the truck was deadly. Steven didn’t say a single word for the twenty-two-minute drive from the strip club to his building. He didn’t speak when we parked. He didn’t speak in the elevator on the way up to the apartment. My hands shook as I followed him down the hall to his door. When he stood back and allowed me to enter first, the tension nearly cramped my muscles as I stepped over the threshold. I hit the closed bedroom door with such force that I actually heard it creak, as if the hinges might give way at the strain. The hand on the back of my neck had given me just enough warning so I turned my head before I hit the door dead-on. Instead, a searing pain on the side of my head made my vision swim. Before I could react, Steven had jerked the knob, and I fell into the bedroom. Scrambling to get away from him, I barely managed to stay on my feet. I had nowhere to run, I knew that, but I continued to back away, delaying the inevitable.

“Where the hell were you?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. His low voice was almost seductive, but I knew that no lover’s caress would be forthcoming. “I told you to wait for me backstage.”

“After my set, I had to take a leak, so I went to the john,” I said as I backed into the corner, trying to make myself as small a target as I could. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me forward by it. My head snapped back with the rough jerk and hit the wall, causing a sharp pain to radiate through my skull.

“See, the problem with that is I went looking for you. You weren’t in there, and no one had seen you,” he informed me, still not raising his voice. The quiet calm was almost worse than screaming.

A resounding slap across my face took me by surprise, and again my head hit the wall. A strong metallic taste of blood seeped into my mouth from a new split lip.

“Now, you want to try that again?” he asked as I rubbed the side of my face to help take away the sting. It didn’t help, and my face throbbed. Desperately, I tried to come up with a plausible explanation that wouldn’t piss him off further. My thoughts were jumbled and unfocused. It almost reminded me of being high.