Page 38 of Numbers Boy (Working Boys #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Steve

THE FINAL WEEKS before the show fly by in a flurry of work, dog walks, practice, and as many dates as Noah and I can feasibly squeeze in.

And even when there’s no time for dates, we always end the day wrapped in each other’s arms. Something shifted that night on Noah’s couch, and we haven’t spent a night apart since.

We’ve been mostly staying at my place, but on the few nights we’ve crashed at his and Blake’s, Stu has been eager to spend the night with Stacy.

I’m going to give him another week before I bring up the fact that he hasn’t had an overnight with a date of his own in months.

Stu and I are currently sitting in the back room he reserved for us at Full Fitness, stretching before our respective workouts.

He blocked it off all day, knowing I’d want a longer rehearsal session before the performance this weekend.

My head is off in space, thinking dreamily through the way Noah woke me this morning, when a wolf whistle splits the air.

“Hot damn, boo, that is one loved-up face if I’ve ever seen one,” comes Henry’s perky voice from the entryway to the space.

I don’t try to deny it. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t because Noah is amazing, there’s no way I could control whatever my face is doing right now.

He literally blew my mind earlier with his wicked tongue.

And a few well-placed fingers. It’s going to be at least another few hours before I have any chance of wiping whatever look I’m wearing off my face.

“Right?” Stu agrees, reaching his hands out for mine so we can do a partner stretch. I fold forward and link my fingers through his before leaning back and pulling Stu gently toward me. He sends me a wink. “It’s disgusting.”

“Liar,” I call him out. “I know for a fact you told Noah what my favorite flowers are. You wouldn’t have done that if you really thought we were gross.”

Henry laughs brightly as he comes to join us on the floor while Stu sputters indignantly. “Who snitched?”

I grin, letting myself be bent forward again. “Blake. He was giving Noah grief about how sappy he is.”

“Methinks the best friends doth protest too much,” Henry chimes in, body twisted up in some sort of pretzel-y stretch that hurts my brain. “Maybe you should get together with Blake, Stu.”

Stu and I both stop what we’re doing and turn to our shorter friend. “Uhh…” we both say, not quite sure where Henry is going with this.

Henry rolls his eyes and huffs. “Not like that . Obviously, Stu is straight. I just meant to talk about how gross and sappy you two are. If anyone would understand, it would be both the besties. Duh.”

“Ohh,” we respond, nodding.

“Come on, Stu,” Henry says, effortlessly moving on. “Let’s watch Steve rock this routine.”

He moves to the mirrored wall of the room and drops back down, legs crossed in front of him.

He pats the space next to him, and Stu takes the invitation.

I pull up my drag playlist and toss my phone to Stu, who waits until I get set in my starting position, then presses Play.

As the opening of the song pipes through the Bluetooth speaker in the corner behind me, I take a deep breath and let my mind focus on the feeling of power flowing through me.

I do a full run-through, making mental notes of spots I want to work on today.

When I’m done, Henry and Stu cheer, and I give an exaggerated bow.

“Perfect!” Henry says, grinning widely. He’s standing now, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, making his workout skirt flounce around his thighs. “You look fabulous.”

Stu nods, resetting the song before I can ask him to. “Noah’s not gonna know what hit him when he sees you on Saturday.”

Henry’s eyes go wide, and he swings his head between me and Stu. “You finally invited him?”

“Yep,” I say, trying to act more nonchalant about it than I feel while I take a drink of water. But inside, my stomach is bubbling as I remember how happy Noah was when I asked him. I decide to fan the flames of Henry’s excitement. “He even helped me with my dress prep.”

Henry lets out a squeal, rushing over and wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I’m so happy for you. What did he think of the dress?”

“Well,” I start, going to get my shoes from my duffle bag so I can practice in them this time. “He was very curious about the black underlay, but I wanted to keep that a surprise.”

Henry nods his approval. “Good. Keep that boy in suspense.”

Sitting down to make it easier, I start pulling on and lacing up the stilettos, my face hot as I do.

And it’s not just because I was dancing my ass off a few minutes ago.

No, this flush is definitely from the residual heat of Noah fucking me in these heels.

Henry’s keen gaze clocks my reddened cheeks, and he narrows his eyes at the shoes.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re thinking about sex? Also, what’s up with the pedicure?”

“Because you’re not dumb,” Stu answers, not looking up from his own phone, just as I grin cheekily up at Henry and say, “Because you’re smart like that. And do you really want to know?”

That makes him stop for a second, clearly torn. His need to meddle must be taking a day off, though, because he just shakes his head and walks back over to his viewing spot. “Nah, I’ll just let my imagination come up with something. Now, are you going to dance in those things or what?”

“Well, I would if you’d pipe down for a second, shorty.” I wink at him and strut back to my starting mark. The heels definitely add another layer of sass as Eve comes out to play.

Stu chuckles as Henry mimes zipping his lips. Then the music starts, and I’m dancing.

“HOW’S IT GOING , hot stuff? You ready for tonight?

” Helen asks from her place beside me in the green room Shimmer set up for all the performers in tonight’s fundraiser.

It’s one of the nicer ones I’ve seen, with a station for each king or queen, and plenty of good lighting.

There are a handful of us in here now, but most have finished getting ready and are out mingling as they wait for the show.

I grin over at her, my face covered in Eve’s heavy stage makeup and dress on but not zipped up.

The big night has finally arrived, and I’m currently being transformed into my alter ego.

Helen is almost completely ready, checking her skates before she starts the show.

She’s emceeing tonight and the reason I knew about the audition process in the first place.

I should really figure out what her favorite foundation is and get it for her as a thank-you.

“Born ready,” I answer, blowing her a kiss as she rolls effortlessly to the door.

“Perfect. Break a heel, baby girl!” she says with a wink, and then she’s gone.

I turn back to my preparations, throwing a wave over my shoulder.

I’m just pulling my wig into place when my phone buzzes on the dressing table.

I eagerly snatch it up, knowing Noah was going to text when he and the guys got here.

But when I see who the message is from, my heart sinks and bile rises in my throat.

Cheating Douchebag: please tell me i didn’t see you going back stage earlier with your duffle bag. I thought you were past that drag nonsense

In an instant, I’m back to who I was toward the end of last year.

Ice-cold dread slips down my spine and settles like a rock in my stomach.

All of the doubts about whether what I like is acceptable, whether what I can give to my partner is enough, press down on my chest. My dress, still undone along the side, suddenly feels too tight, and it’s hard to breathe.

My hand tightens around my phone, and I stare unseeingly at the device.

What the fuck is Adam doing here? He’s supposed to be in Chicago, not at Shimmer. Not about to watch Eve step out onstage. He’s not supposed to be able to ruin my life anymore. He’s…

Another message pops up on my screen, the notification enough of a change to cut into my increasingly agitated thoughts.

This time, it is from Noah. I click it open with shaking fingers, bracing myself for more bad news.

It feels like that has to be what it is.

Nothing good can happen if Adam is here.

Noah: We’re here! I’m so excited to see you, Princess. You’re going to be so amazing.

A choked sob rips from my throat at the difference between the two messages.

And when a picture comes through moments later, I feel one solitary tear roll down my cheek.

It’s an image of Noah, arm extended to fit everyone in the frame.

Surrounding him are all of the Working Boys, along with Blake.

Even Andrew is here, Greg tucked under his arm.

They all have massive smiles on their faces, but none more so than my boyfriend.

Seeing their support, something inside my chest finally snaps.

I quickly swipe my cheek and meet my own gaze in the mirror.

“They are what matters,” I tell myself quietly, eyes blazing. “Adam will not ruin tonight. Adam will not ruin my life.”

I rake my eyes over my appearance, from my long hair to my fly-as-fuck makeup, on down to my dress and killer heels. This is part of who I am, and I will not let anyone take it from me. They don’t have the power to do so. Not anymore.

I send a quick heart-react to the picture before tapping angrily back to the text thread with my ex.

Me: Lose my number, asshole.

And then I block him.

It feels like the final weight has been lifted from my chest, and tossing my phone down into my bag, I stand to my full height.

I revel in the feeling of power that cascades over me as I pull the dress zipper closed and put the finishing touches on my look.

It feels like I’m preparing for battle, each carefully placed rhinestone along my dress another link in my chainmail armor.

Blowing my reflection a kiss, I swagger off to the wings near the stage. It’s time for Eve to shine.