Page 48 of Wilde Shorts
I looked up at the entrance to the dance club they’d chosen. It was fine. I was happy to help Cody celebrate and catch up with all the guys, but I was having a hard time not worrying about Stevie. He was killing himself to make enough money to support his family when I was sitting on a fat savings account I’d accumulated after twenty-five years of earning more money than I spent on just myself. My house had been paid for by an inheritance from my grandfather, and some of my woodworking projects brought in money here and there. My tastes weren’t extravagant, and I lived in a small town with few temptations for big expenditures. So why wouldn’t he let me help him? And why did I feel like offering him money again would make him feel like some kind of rent boy?
“Dude, focus. You almost ran into that guy.”
My head came up to see the big bearded man scoff at me over hisshoulder as I made my way through the crowd toward a table someone had saved for us. The place was packed, and music thumped hard enough to make me worry for my heart.
Someone pushed a drink into my hand and pointed to the dance number about to start on the main stage.
Within seconds one of the dancers on stage caught my attention. A small, slender guy with pale skin and natural rhythm. Each of the featured dancers who emerged from behind a curtain had an elaborate feathered mask, jewels and feathers seemingly glued to their upper chest, and a large plume of feathers attached to the back of a skimpy pair of boy shorts. It was a riot of color, all of the dancers displaying their individual shade. But one of the dancers was in all black. He was the littlest guy up there, and instead of jewels on his chest, he wore black feathered epaulettes. His mask, shorts, and tail feathers were all the same silky black, strikingly set off by his pale winter skin.
He was stunning.
Even though he was small, his body was curved with defined dancer’s muscles, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. He was transported by the music—almost like he wasn’t actually there with us but on another plane. He was in his own world, caressed by the rhythm and one with the beat. He displayed an intoxicating blend of grace and strength. Every sultry roll of his hips showed off slender abs. Every deep, open-legged squat showed the power of his quads and calves. When he spun around, I saw sinewy back muscles over a slim waist, a waist that would feel so fucking amazing between my hands. A waist thatdidfeel amazing between my hands.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed.
“You okay, Chief?” someone at my table asked.
“That’s my boyfriend,” I said without thinking. The table of guys hooted and hollered, several of them claiming he was their boyfriend too, assuming I’d been joking.
“No, you assholes. That’s actually my boyfriend.”
Before I decide what to do, my phone buzzed for the third time inas many minutes in my pocket. I wasn’t on call, but as the chief of the Hobie FD, it was part of my job to always be reachable.
The text on the screen was from Sassy.
West found Stevie’s mom on a 72-hour psych hold at hospital. Stevie not answering phone. What do I do? Worried about Willow!
I glanced up at the beautiful man dancing his heart out on stage.
Willow at Dina’s. I know where Stevie is. I’ll get him and bring him to hospital.
Leaning over toward Cody, I apologized for leaving. “Sorry, but something’s come up. I’ll take you and Eric for dinner soon. Would love to introduce you to Stevie,” I said, nodding toward the black-feathered dancer. Cody’s eyes widened in appreciation of my boyfriend’s stunning form shimmying to the beat of the club track, and I had to restrain myself from growling at him to put his damned eyeballs back in their sockets.
As I walked toward the bar to inquire about how to meet up with Stevie after his dance routine, I saw all the patrons in the place salivating over my man. Did it make me jealous? Hell yes. Did I also feel incredibly smug that he was mine and mine alone? Fuck yes.
But now wasn’t the time to strut around like an asshole. I had to find him and tell him the news before taking him to the hospital and most likely staying with him while he had to deal with some tough realities.
“What do you want to drink?” the bartender asked.
“Oh, no. I need to meet one of your dancers after he’s done,” I shouted over the music, thumbing over my shoulder at the stage. The bartender and at least three men around me snorted.
“Don’t we all. Save your breath. Unless you’ve got large bills, you ain’t getting any from those young guys,” one of the men said.
I ground my teeth together before trying again. “The dancer in the black feathers is my boyfriend. There’s been a family emergency. His mom is in the hospital.”
The bartender’s smirk faded, and he nodded. “Let me get Darius. He’ll help.”
I was waiting in the manager’s office when he brought Stevie in.He wore a pink tank over his black boy shorts and looked like a puppy who was getting ready to be bopped on the nose with a newspaper.
“C’mere,” I said gruffly, reaching for him and pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you. You were fucking amazing up there. Stunning. I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you.”
“Really?” he asked in a breathy voice. “You’re not mad at me?”
I put him at arm’s length and held on to his shoulders so I could look into his eyes. “I wish you’d felt comfortable enough to tell me what you were doing, but no. I’m not mad at you. I’m upset, but only because you’re trying so hard to support your family that it’s going to break you down one of these days. I want to help you, baby. Financially, I mean. I don’t want you killing yourself working three jobs. If you want to dance here because you love it, then I’ll support you one hundred percent. If you’re doing it to make more money, though, we’re going to talk, because you’re burning out, sweetheart. But right now, we need to go.”
“What do you mean? I can’t go. I still have several hours left.”
I cupped his face in my hands. “Your mom is in the hospital. Sassy tried to get a hold of you and texted me when she couldn’t get you.”