“It’s been years since I’ve been out.” Josh leaned his head back and breathed in deep. “Nothing like getting some fresh air.”
Monica chuckled next to him. “If this is your idea of fresh air, papi, you’ve lived in the city too long.”
Her words were almost drowned out by the pounding bass pouring from the nearby speakers. Twist—the gay club they’d made their home for the night—was packed wall-to-wall with bodies. Even for a Saturday, the turnout was fierce. They’d managed to snag a pub table to stand around, but now they were holding on to it for dear life. Darius and Ashley had made a trip to the bar while Josh, Monica, and Josh’s roommates guarded their real estate.
“I don’t understand why we always have to go to gay bars,” Will huffed. In camouflage cargo pants and a Lakers jersey, he stuck out from the sea of glittery club wear around him like a neon I’m Straight sign. Which was ironic, considering the camo.
“No one forced you to come.” A.J. threw a beefy arm around him. “You might as well enjoy yourself.” His eyes moved from Will’s face to a group of nearby guys who were staring at his flexed muscles. Rather than lower his arm, he brought his other one up to join it, posturing like a peacock.
“Dude, you’re straight,” Chris said, pushing his black bangs out of his eyes. “Why are you always showing off your body when we come here?”
“Is it so wrong of me to want all my hard work to be admired?” He finally removed his arm from around Will, but he moved at a snail’s pace so the guys could get a good look. “I spend five days a week at the gym, and by God, I am going to get hit on tonight.”
Chris shook his head. “I worry about you.”
Ashley appeared next to Chris. “We come bearing alcohol!” In her arms were three beer bottles and a glass of red wine. She set the drinks on the table, paused to peck Monica on the cheek, and then distributed the alcohol. “Darius should be right behind me.”
“I’m here, sug.” Darius, who had opted to show some beautiful dark skin with a pink mesh top and black sequin booty shorts, glided up to the table. “Enjoy, ya lushes.” He had two more beers, which he divvied up between Ashley and himself, and a wine cooler that made its way to Josh.
“Thanks, guys.” Josh took a generous swig.
Monica made a sour face, but the effect was diminished by the bright-pink kiss mark her girlfriend had left on her brown cheek. “I don’t know how you can drink those things. Just thinking about it gives me a hangover.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “Tastes like candy, whereas beer tastes like fermented piss.”
“You’re the last person in the world who needs to be sugared up.”
“Stop judging me.”
In truth, Josh was too embarrassed to admit the real reason he was drinking these: they were cheaper than cocktails, and he was broke. He hadn’t been back at the Globe long enough to get a paycheck yet, and cam work was harder than he’d thought it would be. He’d only booked a handful of private shows in the entire week he’d been at it. He had to be doing something wrong.
I bet Mike could give me some pointers.
Not for the first time that evening, Josh’s thoughts turned to his former costar. Ever since Mike had texted him out of the blue, all Josh seemed to do was think about him. The text had been simple, and yet Josh had still managed to overanalyze the fuck out of it.
Was Mike checking up on him in general? Was he seeing how he was doing after the bad news he’d dumped on him? Why had he chosen to send a winking emoji? Josh had never been the academic sort, but he was quite certain he could write a dissertation on that five-word text.
After hanging up on him, Josh had planned to let Mike stew for a few days before he reopened communication, but the surprise message had startled him into having a brief but pleasant exchange.
Mike had seemed different somehow. Smoother, in the sense that some of his rough edges had been sanded down. He’d seemed genuinely interested in how Josh was doing, and not just in terms of sex work. He’d asked about Josh’s family and friends and if he had any plans for the weekend. It was . . . normal. The first normal thing that Josh could claim had happened between them.
It also reaffirmed in Josh’s head that there was something between them. Something worth exploring, even after the handful of disasters they’d been through. He didn’t know what Mike’s intentions were toward him—and one text conversation did not a relationship make—but he wanted to find out.
Darius waved a hand in front of his face. “Did the sugar short-circuit your brain or something?”
Josh snapped back to the smoky pink and blue reality that was the club. “Sorry, I was thinking.”
“About what?”
“His new boyfriend,” Chris cut in.
Josh spat some of his drink back into the bottle. “What?”
“I share a wall with you, dude. I’ve heard you talking to someone at all hours of the night.”
Oh fuck, he’s heard me doing webcam sessions. How much did he hear?
Chris continued. “No clue what you’re saying, but the only person you’d spend that much time on the phone with is a boyfriend.”
Josh’s heart started beating again. “Oh, no. That’s not what you think.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to shove them back in.
“Then what is it?”
Ashley and Monica both turned to look at him. Darius leaned on the table, propping his chin on a fist. Even Will stopped scowling long enough to give him a curious look.
Fuck my life and my big mouth.
“It’s nothing.” Josh took another sip to calm his nerves, which had frayed like fine rope in the span of ten seconds. He hadn’t planned on telling his friends about his secret double life. It wasn’t like he was ashamed or anything. But he wasn’t sure he wanted them to know. And he definitely didn’t want to answer the hundreds of probing questions they’d ask him. Plus, there was a chance his roommates wouldn’t like the idea of him performing sex acts for an audience under the same roof as them.
Fuck. It would have been best if he’d kept his trap shut, but now that they’d scented blood in the water, they weren’t going to leave him alone. He had to give them something.
“All right. You caught me.” He set his bottle down on the table and raised his voice over the new, much louder song that had started playing. “There is a guy, but he’s not my boyfriend.” He went in for the kill. “Not yet, anyway.”
The collective gasps from his friends were every bit as overdramatic as he’d expected. Monica even pretended to swoon into Ashley’s already-waiting arms. Relationship goals.
“Tell us about him.” Darius shimmied with excitement. Bent over the table as he was in his tiny shorts, the movement attracted plenty of attention. But when a man screwed up the nerve to approach, Darius shooed him away and looked back at Josh. “Spare no detail. What’s his name? How did you meet?”
Oh shit. I didn’t think this through.
“Um, his name is Mike. We met online.” It wasn’t a total lie. Murmur Inc.’s website was what had brought them together. “It’s not as serious as I made it seem, though. We haven’t been on a date yet.”
Ashley’s eyes gleamed. “Have you hooked up?”
Shit. Can’t get anything past her.
“Well . . .”
More melodramatic gasping.
Will clapped his hands over his ears. “If you’re gonna talk about butt sex, I’m leaving.”
“Not me.” A.J. held up his beer. “I’m here for you, bro. Bring on the gay.”
“Seconded,” Monica and Ashley said in unison.
Josh frowned. “I don’t want to talk about it. Hell, I don’t know how. It’s—”
Darius groaned. “If you say complicated, I’ma smack you.”
“Well, it is.”
“Tell us what he’s like, then.” Monica waved a manicured finger at Darius. “Tall? Dark? Handsome? Nice? Funny?”
“Kinda cranky, to be honest. The way he talks sometimes, you’d think he was in his fifties instead of his twenties. He’s cynical too. And proud. But protective, in a weird way. He gets all gruff when he’s worried you’re gonna hurt yourself. Like a muscular, red-headed bear. A sexy one.” Josh eyed his drink. “I might have had too much.”
“Does he treat you well?”
“That’s . . . kind of a tough question.”
Monica’s dark eyes flashed like a blade’s edge. “Papi, if he’s not being good to you, I volunteer to hunt him down.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, when I first met him, I thought he was all business. Total ice king. But the more time I spent with him, the more I realized he was trying to help me. In fact, pretty much everything he did was to keep me from getting hurt.”
Ashley frowned. “Hurt? By him, or what?”
Josh swallowed a frustrated sound. Explaining this without explaining it was beyond him when he was three drinks deep. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. The point is, he’s a good guy, and I’m hoping I’ll get to see more of him.” Though I’ve seen a lot already.
“Well, I’m confused.” Darius shrugged. “But if you like him, I’m sure we will too. When do we get to meet him?”
“Um . . .”
In a paragon of perfect timing, someone knocked into Josh’s arm. Josh stumbled over his clubbing boots but caught himself before he went sprawling.
“My bad. I’m sorry.” A dark-haired man reached for him as if to help him up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. No worries.” Josh’s eyes widened as they dipped down the guy’s body and darted back up to his face. Holy shit, he’s hot.
The guy must’ve noticed Josh scoping him out, because he grinned. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you a drink.”
Free booze. Score. Josh turned away from his bottled sugar with glee. “Sure. I was about to get one myself.” He made it all of three steps before someone yanked him back. “Ow! What the—”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Monica hissed in his ear. “You told us you’re into someone else.”
He lowered his voice. “It’s not like that.” After years of clubbing, Josh’s brain was hot-wired to accept free alcohol without question. Especially since he’d been too young to buy it for himself until recently. “I’ll be good, okay? I just want the drink.”
Hot Guy raised a thick eyebrow. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah.” Josh pulled out of Monica’s grasp. “Lead the way.”
They cut through the pulsating crowd with minimal resistance. The bodies melded around them, welcoming them into the hot, sweaty fold. It wasn’t until they reached the bar that they encountered resistance. It was slammed.
Hot Guy brought his lips to Josh’s ear, purportedly so he could hear him. “While I flag down a bartender, why don’t you tell me your name? And what you’d like?”
“Josh, and I’ll take a . . .” He racked his brain for a cocktail he’d never pay for on his own. “Manhattan.”
“Ooh, que fancy. I’m Ray.” Ray managed to snag the attention of a bartender and placed their orders, bending over the bar to be heard. Josh took the opportunity to sneak a peek at his ass.
Yup. Definitely hot. But not Mike.
Orders placed, Ray faced him and smiled. “You from around here?”
Josh nodded. “Born and raised. I’m an LA devotee. You?”
“I’m from your cocktail.”
Josh’s alcohol-infused brain trundled its way through that sentence. “You’re from Manhattan?”
“Yup. You know how you can tell if someone’s from New York?”
“How?”
“They can’t go ten minutes without saying they’re from New York.”
Josh laughed so hard he teared up a little. The bartender appeared with their drinks.
Ray paid for them, scooped them up, and handed Josh’s to him. “Did you come here with those people I saw you with?”
“Yeah, those are my friends and roommates. Are you out with friends?”
“No, I came here by myself.” Ray gave him a smile that was dripping with suggestion.
Josh, who spoke fluent gay, didn’t need a decoder ring to figure out what that meant. He’s looking for a hookup. Josh took a sip of his drink to mask his sudden nerves.
As he was struggling not to blurt out something awkward, Ray stepped closer.
“I’m not usually this forward, but I’m having a rough night, and you’re hot. What do you say we ditch your friends and get out of here?”
Josh blinked. “Wow, that was direct.”
“Sorry. I got dumped the other day, and I haven’t dated in a long time. But I’ve heard the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Up for it?”
Josh opened his mouth only to close it again. Two weeks ago, he would have said hell yeah. But now, all he could think about was Mike. It was ridiculous, of course. They weren’t dating. Hell, they weren’t anything. But he couldn’t help it. Sleeping with Ray would feel like a betrayal, and not just to Mike, but to his own feelings.
What was he going to say, though? Sorry, I can’t. I have a non-boyfriend. Ray would think he was blowing him off, and he didn’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings. Maybe there was another excuse he could use. Hadn’t Colette said he shouldn’t sleep with anyone until he got tested?
He seized onto that with both hands. “I’m sorry, but I can’t have sex for at least another week.”
Ray furrowed his brow. “Is it Lent, and no one told me?”
“No, I need to get tested. I might have HIV.”
The effect his words had was instant and explosive.
Ray backed away from him, eyes wide. “Holy shit, dude. What the fuck?”
Josh bit his lip. That reaction seemed a little extreme. “What’s the big deal? I’m just being honest.” He held out his hand. “Friends?”
Ray looked like Josh had offered him a bomb. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want to catch anything from you.”
“You can’t get HIV from shaking—”
But Ray had already turned away and was pushing through the crowd. It seemed like he was trying to put as much distance between them as he could. Josh didn’t chase after him. He was caught between confusion and rejection. Ray’s reaction was way over the top. It reminded him of how the jocks in high school would react when he told them he was gay. Back then, it’d seemed like they hated him, but Josh understood now that they were scared of shit they didn’t understand.
It’s not personal. It’s not about you. He needs to work through his own ignorance.
It was true, but it didn’t make him feel less like a mutant.
Josh trudged back over to the table. Monica, Will, and A.J. were missing—it was their turn to get drinks, no doubt—but the others were still there. Ashley took one look at him and pursed her neon-pink lips. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just exhausted all of a sudden.”
“What happened to that guy?”
“He left. Good riddance.” Josh took the drink Ray had bought him and knocked it back, as if to destroy the evidence that he’d ever been there.
Darius looked between him and the empty glass. “Whatever you say.”
Chris touched his shoulder. “You wanna go home? We can split a cab.”
“Home sounds phenomenal. Do you think Will and A.J. will be pissed?”
“Nah, they found some straight girls having a bachelorette party. They’ll be fine. I’ll go get us a cab. Meet me outside?”
“Right behind you.” Josh glanced at his friends. “Will you tell the others where I went?”
“Sure thing,” Ashley said. “But you know Monica’s gonna call you later, right? She’ll expect full details.”
“And that’s why God invented the Reject Call button.” He pecked her on the cheek. “Enjoy the rest of your night. You too, Darius.”
He slipped away before they could ask any more questions. It was a cool, clear night, though this far into city center, stars were never visible. Josh was wearing one of his tamer club outfits: tight faux leather pants and a slashed black shirt. It provided almost no insulation against the wind. Good thing this was California. Even at night, it was hotter than noon in New York.
Don’t think about New York.
Chris was standing by the curb with a cab idling next to him.
Josh hurried over. “I dunno how you always manage to find a cab in two seconds flat no matter where we are.”
Chris opened the back door and climbed in. “We’re in the nightlife district. The cabs know this is where the drunk people live.”
Josh laughed, giving their address to the cab driver between giggles. Chris wasn’t the chatty sort, which was perfect. He didn’t ask Josh about Ray or make small talk. Fifteen minutes later, they were home. Chris invited Josh to play some Call of Duty with him, but Josh declined, claiming he was exhausted. In truth, after the rejection at the club, he was looking for a nice hit of self-esteem, and he knew exactly where to get it.
When he got to his room, he didn’t bother changing out of his clothes. His club outfits were always a hit with the clients. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was after midnight, which for most jobs would be slow, but as Josh had discovered, it was prime time in the sex industry.
He switched on a lamp for some mood lighting, flopped onto his bed, and opened his laptop. The portal he used to log in to his channel was already loaded. A few minutes later, a screen popped up, showing his account information and a window with his camera feed. He checked himself out. Sweaty and a little disheveled, but his clients would like that.
When he was ready, he set his status to online. Within seconds, people popped into his chat. He grinned as he watched his channel fill up. Colette had told him that when he was no longer a new face, he’d have to rely on repeat customers, but for now, he loved seeing all these people clamor for his attention.
Their comments were exactly what he needed too.
u look hot tonight bret
Very sexxi. Did u go out?
bet you got hit on, dressed like that
It had taken Josh some time to get used to how everything worked, even with Colette’s instructions. He logged in to Murmur Inc.’s website with his employee ID, he loaded the chat, marked himself as available, and boom. His webcam turned on, and hopefully so did his clients.
Anyone who logged in to the free public chat could see and hear him, but Josh couldn’t see them. If the clients wanted to communicate, they had to type in the chat box, or buy a private session with him. Josh could type too, but that option was used by people who didn’t speak English well or flat-out didn’t want to talk. As it just so happened, Josh loved to talk.
“Hey, guys.” Josh affected the deep, sexy voice he used when camming. Remembering what his roommates had said earlier, he kept his volume down. “I was out at a club tonight. Wanna see more of my outfit?”
That got a round of affirmations. Josh climbed off the bed and stood back so most of his body was visible in the cam window. He did a slow turn, pushing his ass out and lifting up the hem of his shirt like he was going to take it off. He couldn’t read what his clients were saying, but judging by the speed with which responses were flying up the screen, they liked what they saw.
Josh grinned. Cam work had its ups and downs, like any job, but it was always good for a confidence boost.
A moment later, a notification pinged on his screen. Someone had bought a private show with him. Jackpot.
Josh hurried back to his laptop and clicked Accept. The chat screen minimized while a new screen popped up. Josh squinted at the process. He was still getting used to how it worked. If someone bought a show from him, it put him offline and opened a new window. The client—or clients; group shows were an option—could then choose to turn on their webcam or simply type to Josh, depending on what they wanted.
The handle of the person who’d bought the show flashed onto the screen: gingersnap93. Josh knew it well. It belonged to a man who called himself “Martin.” He was the closest thing to a regular that Josh had, and he was . . . Well, he was a bit odd.
Josh had given a dozen private shows since he’d started doing cam work, and he’d learned that clients wanted one thing: to watch him get off. Sometimes they got off with him, ordering him to watch them masturbate, or they wanted him to use toys on himself. But at the end of the day, it was always the same thing.
Except with Martin, a mild-mannered LA native who only ever wanted to talk.
Josh didn’t know if he was ugly or shy or what, but Martin never turned on his cam. He never asked Josh to strip or touch himself or talk dirty to him. Nothing. They just had regular conversations for hour-intervals at a time.
Josh had never thought that there would come a day when talking to a man would seem odder to him than getting off with him, but that was the case here. Martin was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.
Stranger still, Martin had claimed he was in sex work as well. He’d never said what kind, but it was clear he was knowledgeable about the industry. And he was from LA as well.
Josh had spent a whole session with him talking about his disastrous foray into porn, and Martin had listened with infinite patience. He’d even offered Josh some tips on how to be safe and successful in cam work. Josh now knew how to hold shows for multiple customers at a time, and that if a client harassed him, he could boot him from the chat. They might get blacklisted by Murmur Inc. if what they’d done was bad enough.
Josh appreciated Martin’s insight, but he couldn’t figure out what the other guy got out of their chats. They seemed to benefit Josh way more than they did him, and they weren’t cheap. Josh had offered no fewer than a dozen times to do something for him, but Martin refused every time.
There was a chance Martin was simply lonely. Either way, Josh wasn’t complaining. He was a cool guy, and the money was great. Plus, they’d talked about everything. Books, movies, their favorite foods, what albums they’d take with them to a deserted island. Even their families. Martin had a complicated relationship with his father, to say the least, and Josh couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down and called his mom.
It was strange, but although he had no idea who Martin was or what he looked like, Josh almost had a little crush on him. But then, everything he said about himself could be a lie, and Josh was still hung up on Mike. Sigh. He’d never thought that one day he’d be so committed to a nonexistent relationship with a prolific porn star who might have given him HIV.
What was his life these days?
The screens finished arranging themselves, and the private show began.
Josh greeted Martin as he always did. “Evening, Martin. How was your day?”
An ellipsis popped up, indicating that Martin was typing.
Long. Hard. And yes, those are innuendos.
Josh laughed. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Sometimes talking to a complete stranger for any length of time was trying, but Josh was comfortable with Martin. They had a rapport. A routine.
This time, however, Martin deviated from it.
Tell me about yours instead. You look stressed.
“You know me too well. I just got back from Twist with my friends.”
Twist?
“It’s a gay club I like. I go there so much, I feel like I owe them rent.” Josh was about to say more, but a response from Martin popped up.
Bret, we’ve been over this. Don’t tell people things like that. What if I were some obsessed stalker? I could go to Twist and track you down.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Josh gave the camera his best contrite expression. “Though I don’t think that would be so bad, if it were you. I like you.” Josh must still be in the overly honest stage of being drunk.
There was a long pause.
Very smooth. I almost thought you meant that.
“I did mean it.”
I’m in sex work too, pal. We all have to fake interest in our clients to keep them coming back for more.
Josh rolled his eyes. Martin could be such a cynic. Josh wanted to argue with him, but after the night he’d had, he didn’t have it in him. “Anyway, like I was saying, I went to the club, and some guy rejected me. Kinda put a damper on my night.”
He waited for a response. No ellipsis popped up. Josh waited a minute and then checked his internet connection. He was online, and so was Martin. Had Martin stepped away from his keyboard?
“Hello?” Josh tried. “You still there?”
Yeah, sorry. I was getting some water. So, you hit on a guy, huh?
“No, he offered to buy me a drink. I wasn’t all that interested, but he was hot, and free is free.”
Why weren’t you interested?
Josh bit his lip. Another of the general-knowledge tips Martin had given him was to never mention outside lovers or relationships unless the client had a cuckolding kink. It could make them jealous enough to stop spending money on you. But Martin had asked him a question, and he was in sex work too. Surely he would understand?
“There’s this . . . guy that I like.”
Sounds juicy. How’d you meet?
Josh shook his head. “You’re gonna think I’m such a sucker. I’ve literally seen him twice in my whole life, and both times were at work. I shouldn’t be so hung up on him, but . . . I dunno, I can’t stop thinking about him.”
Martin’s response was immediate. If you really like him, you should go for it.
“Go for what? I don’t know if the guy likes me back. Well, okay, I’m certain he’s attracted to me, but that doesn’t mean anything. We’ve seen each other twice, and we’ve texted once. That doesn’t sound like an epic romance in the making to me. Although”—Josh tapped his chin—“he did ask me out once.”
I’m positive he likes you back. How could he not? You’re gorgeous and funny and fun.
“Thank you.” Josh crinkled his nose. “But you don’t know the guy. He’s not the shy type. If he liked me, he would have done something about it by now.”
Josh’s phone buzzed in his pocket. “Do you mind if I check that?”
I insist.
Josh pulled it out. “Speak of the fucking devil. It’s a text from him.”
Read it to me.
“It says ‘Do you want to go out sometime?’” Josh gasped. “Holy shit. It’s like he read my mind.”
I told you he likes you back.
“I guess you were right. What a weird coincidence.”
Are you going to say yes?
“It’d be silly for me not to, right? I just said I like the guy.”
I can’t give you advice on this one. Do what feels right.
Josh stuck his tongue out at the screen. “You’re no help at all. Dunno why you’ve chosen now of all times to keep your opinions to yourself.” He composed a quick reply. What did you have in mind?
Within seconds, Mike texted back. I was thinking we could go out dancing. Maybe hit a club.
“Damn. That’s spooky. He wants to go to a club. I didn’t think he was the clubbing sort.” I would love to. When?
When are you free?
Thursday is my day off.
I’ll see you Wednesday night.
Holy shit. He had a date with Mike. His heart was pounding. His cheeks ached, and he realized he had a smile stretched all the way across his face.
“Martin, you won’t believe this. I have a date for Wednesday.” Josh glanced at his laptop. A second later, he frowned.
Martin had logged out of their session early. Josh’s first instinct was to panic, thinking he’d pissed him off by texting while they were in a show. But then a dialogue box popped up, indicating how much money Josh had made from the session.
Martin had left him a twenty-dollar tip.