18. Austin

18

AUSTIN

We order a rideshare, and soon enough, we're getting out at the curb near Love Shack. Which is just as well because Dex's thigh against mine in the back seat is warm, and he smells so good that I almost want to stay put and beg off. But that's just my nerves getting the best of me.

We join the back of the long line with Jason and a few others from the LGBTQ+ club. We make small talk as we wait, but I'm distracted by the other attendees, most of whom look fit and trim and ready for a night of partying in what could only be described as their club clothes—leather harnesses, tight pants, and cropped shirts showing off muscled physiques.

I suddenly feel ridiculous thinking I look decent enough to enter a trendy club. Dex doesn't own any club clothes either, but he exudes the confidence and sexiness I'm sorely lacking.

I feel Dex's hand squeeze my shoulder. "I can see your thoughts going haywire. I'm here with you. Try to relax."

I can only nod as I zero in on the door, where the bouncer is handing out wristbands, and then beyond him, on the person standing just inside. You only get a wristband if you're of drinking age, so the other setup must be the color-coded thing.

When it's finally our turn, we show our IDs to the bouncer, and then we're directed by a woman to three baskets.

"What are these for?" I ask, nerves kicking up in my stomach.

Dex motions to the directions above the table. "The green sticker means you're single and looking for a relationship, the red means you're taken, and the yellow implies you're open to anything else, like hookups or threesomes."

I relax a little, glad that the stickers have nothing to do with sex positions. I suppose affixing a red one would be a good way to fend off unwanted advances, but I'm obviously open to anyone who wants to talk to me. At least I think I am.

Suddenly, this night feels a bit confusing. Instead of asking Dex which to choose, I reach for a green sticker, assuming that's what he'd suggest because isn't that basically what this night is about? Gaining more experience talking to attractive men. Dex studies me briefly before reaching for a yellow sticker. We affix them to our shirts, then step inside the club.

Right away, the sea of bodies and the loud techno music overwhelm me.

But Dex is loving the atmosphere. "This place is pure fire!"

As we shuffle through the crowd toward an empty spot along the wall, I start focusing on my surroundings. It dawns on me that this is my first time in this type of LGBTQ+-friendly setting. There are people in groups or paired up everywhere—men with men, women with women, talking or dancing or making out. There's no judgment in this safe room. For the first time tonight, I inhale a deep breath.

"How you holding up?" Dex asks.

"Fine, I just…" I cast my gaze around the warehouse-type large space, trying to take it all in. "Didn't really dawn on me that it would be all of…this."

"All of what?" Dex follows my gaze to two men making out against a wall. "Shit, I'm sorry. Should've been more mindful that this is your first time in a gay club."

"No, that's not what I…this is actually super cool!" I smirk as I home in on Dex's tight jeans and thin shirt that hugs his lean muscles. "And now I get why this might be your scene."

"It can be." He grins. "Depending on my mood."

It's hard to chat with the others from the club over the booming music, but soon enough, everyone is off doing their own thing. Jason is already on the dance floor with his yellow sticker, and I watch as his hips gyrate against some random guy. I doubt I will ever feel that uninhibited, but just being here is a start.

We make our way to the bar and order virgin drinks, which is the only thing available to those of us without wristbands. Dex gets a kick out of saying Sex on the Beach and a Screaming Orgasm to the hot bartender, who winks at him.

"Cheers!" Dex and I clink glasses, then take our first sips.

Maybe I was too shell-shocked to notice before, but now I feel like a sitting duck as guys pass by us, glance at my green sticker, and move on. Suddenly, it feels worse than usual being scrutinized like this without anyone approaching.

I also notice plenty of men making eyes at Dex. Likely because he's so handsome and approachable, but also because of the yellow sticker, though he seems to pay them no mind.

Instead, he's watching me with an unreadable expression. "I should've asked you at the door, but you seemed to make up your mind pretty quickly by choosing the green sticker. You're up for meeting someone tonight?"

"I mean, sure?" I avert my eyes, my palms feeling clammy. "I just assumed that was the idea with you choosing the club and us doing this night out."

"Yes and no. We were supposed to—guess it's totally up to you." His fingers press against my shoulder. "Remember that throwing-you-to-the-wolves thing? I don't want you to feel like that again."

I nod as I pull at the collar of my shirt, feeling like it's strangling me. "Can we find a space by the wall again? Let me catch my breath for a few and think about it."

He grips my fingers and leads me to a less crowded spot, and I feel grounded for the first time tonight. This was supposed to be a second practice date, but I got all confused seeing the stickers and imagining Dex's expectations. I'll admit I got caught up in the idea of meeting another person wearing a green sticker, but the reality of it is actually turning my stomach. I'm not ready for this, but I wasn't assertive enough to ask Dex about it at the door.

As we pass through the crowd, even the few men wearing green stickers don't give me a second look. So either they're as nervous as I am, or I'm not worth talking to. And now I feel like a failure in an experiment designed nearly perfectly for me. It might even be worse than online dating.

As if things weren't awkward enough, Brandon approaches. At first, he looks out of place away from campus and in his black leather harness. A yellow sticker is affixed to the waistband of his pants, which seems the only place he could find to attach it. He has a nice physique, with his muscly biceps and the light dusting of hair on his pecs.

"Hey there," he says in a flirty voice, which is so different from his straightforward one at the coffee cart. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I…didn't think to see you…" I sputter. "A surprise this is."

God, there goes my mouth again.

But it doesn't matter because he's looking at Dex in a way I recognize from right before Dex goes off to hook up with someone.

When Brandon leans forward to whisper in Dex's ear, I feel like a third wheel and almost head toward the exit. But then Dex shakes his head and takes a step back, confusing me.

Brandon's eyebrows scrunch together. "Well, I just thought…because of the sticker."

"Sorry, not tonight." Dex glances at me. "Likely not ever."

Brandon rolls his eyes, says something under his breath, and walks away.

Dex turns to me. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"I'm s-sorry." I feel not only dejected but invisible too. Not that Brandon knows I've been crushing on him, but Christ, what a mess. "I don't want to cock-block you. I'm not feeling comfortable anymore. I can leave, and you can just?—"

"Hell no." He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the wall. "Follow me."

He heads toward the exit, which only makes me feel worse.

I'm about to protest when he approaches the woman standing by the table. "We got the wrong stickers. Can we trade these in for red ones?"

My shoulders immediately unwind, and I grip his fingers tighter. Damn, I appreciate him. Does he even know how intuitive and compassionate he can be?

He grabs the two stickers and leads me to the far wall, where he takes his time adhering them to our shirts.

"Thank you," I say, and his mouth lifts at the corners.

"Let's dial things back. Somehow, we lost the plot. We're supposed to be on our second date, remember?"

God, I'm an idiot. I blow out a breath. "That sounds way more manageable."

"Hey, you two!" We turn to find Kael and Angelica wearing red stickers. "We're a little late. Got held up."

Kael's cheeks flush, and Dex throws him a knowing grin. Angelica seems nonplussed as she sways her hips to the thumping bass and pulls on his arm to head inside, no doubt to dance.

"Coming with?" she asks with a smile.

"Yep, lead the way," Dex replies, and we follow them back inside.

"I see you're both wearing red too," Kael says to me. "Enjoying your date night?"

I swallow. "Yep." Or at least now I will be.

For the first time all night, I feel safer…freer, so when Dex pulls on my hand to join them on the dance floor, I don't exactly protest.

We find an open spot, and Dex turns to face me, Kael and Angelica already getting their groove on, oblivious to everyone but each other.

"Just follow my lead," he says, much like he did at the bonfire, except the music in the club is more frenetic and up-tempo. Dex's fingers tentatively grasp my hip, and when he starts to sway to the music, I shuffle my feet in an attempt to keep up.

"Don't make fun," I warn because I'm woefully bad at it.

"Never." His other hand finds my waist, and after a few awkward moments of getting my feet to work, I finally find the rhythm, surprising myself.

Soon enough, I lose most of my self-consciousness as the crowd tightens around us and it feels like it's just Dex and me in our little cocoon. We're dancing and smiling and sweating our butts off, but I'm enjoying myself.

Dex gets more daring with his dancing, and I find his moves sexy as he shuffles closer and our bodies line up. He gives me his back but grasps my hand to stay put on his hip as we move flush together. He gets down real low, and I try to follow, but I'm afraid I'm gonna fall on my ass. Instead, I close the distance between us, hanging on for dear life, and when he rocks his ass backward against my thigh, a tingling feeling starts in my belly and moves to my groin. It feels so rousingly electric that it takes my brain a moment to register that I'm getting turned on.

By my best friend grinding against me. And damn, if it doesn't feel confusing but also amazingly good. But my rational side is competing with my libido for attention. No way he doesn't feel how hard I am, and when my brain finally catches up, I'm so fucking mortified that I push away from him and take a step back.

"Hey," he says as he swings around to face me again. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, I…I'm just gonna find the restroom."

And then I flee the dance floor.