“Please?” Pete pleaded. “Pleeease? I’ll get down on my knees if you want.”

“Don’t beg,” Sana scolded without looking up from the register. “It’s demeaning. I have half a mind to deny your request just for that.”

“But it’s my birthday,” he wailed. “You can’t turn a man down on his birthday.”

“No, it’s a few weeks before your birthday, which means crushing your dreams is still perfectly acceptable.” She closed the drawer and faced him, arms folded across her chest. “Why do you want tomorrow off anyway? Isn’t it a little early to be celebrating?”

“It’s a preliminary celebration,” he said. “A warmup. You only turn twenty-one once, and I want to do it properly.”

“But you can’t even drink yet. What’s the point?”

“There are plenty of ways to have fun without alcohol, as you well know.”

Sana rolled her eyes. “I guess. Still seems kind of silly.” She walked toward the baked goods display, heels clicking on the linoleum floor, and opened the back panel. “You young people confound me.”

He snorted. “You’re not even thirty yet. You talk like you’re ancient.”

She pulled a roll of cellophane out of a cabinet and started wrapping up various artisan breads and cakes. “You’ll understand when you’re my age. Speaking of which, if you’re going to take a day off, why use it to go clubbing? You hate clubbing. Everyone with half a brain hates clubbing.”

“I don’t hate it,” he lied. “I’ve never really been, except for a few regrettable forays when I was a freshman. My goal for the next year is to get out more. Be more adventurous. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I feel like I’ve never been anywhere. Do you want to stand between me and broadened horizons?”

“I suppose not.” She pointed at the front door. “Did you lock that?”

“Yeah.”

“And you turned off the Open sign?”

“Yup.”

“Then why the fuck,” she snarled, “are customers lined up outside?”

He turned to look. Sure enough, some cantankerous-looking men in dress shirts and slacks were standing outside the front entrance. They knocked on the glass impatiently.

“We’re closed!” Sana shouted. “Come back tomorrow.”

The men muttered something rude and trudged away.

Pete, who had sequestered himself behind the espresso machine, peeked around the corner. “Are they gone?”

“Yup. Good riddance.”

“I love having you for a manager, even if you do scare me shitless half the time.”

“People need to learn: hours of operation are not polite suggestions.”

“How much of LA do you reckon you’ve scared off at this point?”

“That was a lovely attempt to derail the conversation, but I’m not fooled. Back to the subject at hand: what’s with you being Mr. Social all of a sudden? I’ve never known you to willingly subject yourself to crowds.”

He pretended to hunt through a drawer for something so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “I’m social. Just, you know, selectively. And I want to make a big deal out of my birthday this year. I’m allowed.”

Her tone said she wasn’t buying what he was selling. “All right, fine. You can have tomorrow off. But you owe me big time. Why didn’t you ask me earlier?”

Because I hadn’t asked Evan out yet. “It was a last-minute thing. I just found out this morning. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, Saturday is our busiest night, so you have to find someone to cover your shift. Don’t bother asking Joshua. He’s off that night too, and trying to get him to cover a shift is like trying to get an imam to do shots during Ramadan.”

Pete snorted. “I already asked Morgan, and she said yes.”

“Then I guess that’s that.” She looked at him sidelong. “If you’re really trying to turn over a new leaf, I think it’s working. You seem different lately.”

Pete glanced down at himself. “Do I?”

“Yeah. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’re—” she flicked a hand vaguely at him “—more confident, maybe? Or happier? I’m not sure. I’ve noticed you talking to customers more. Smiling. Laughing. I’m curious to know if this change came from within or if someone inspired it.”

He was grateful his face was downturned, because it flamed. “What makes you think there’s someone?”

“All the times I’ve caught you staring off into space with a big, goofy grin on your face, for one thing.”

Damn. It was funny that Evan thought him inscrutable, because when it came to his feelings for him, Pete felt like an open book.

He opened his mouth, not even sure what he was going to say, but Sana cut him off. “For the record, even if your recent change in attitude wasn’t totally self-motivated, I’m still proud of you for getting out of your comfort zone.”

Pete smiled, touched. “Thank you.” He couldn’t help but tease, “Going soft on me?”

“Not a chance. Take the trash out.”

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. When I’m finished, can I leave for the night?”

“Yeah, I’ll close up.”

Pete dragged their trash and recycling out to the bins behind the shop and, after saying one final good-bye to Sana, made the walk home in silence. His thoughts, however, were far from quiet.

He still couldn’t believe he’d actually asked Evan out that morning. To a club nonetheless. A gay club. Where there would be music and dancing and hot, sweaty men, all of whom would undoubtedly flock to Evan. Pete was actually kind of looking forward to that part. It was satisfying, in a caveman sort of way, to think that half the guys at the club would probably trade a kidney to be in Pete’s shoes. Would wearing an I’m With Him shirt be too much? Probably.

He’d have to thank Raj the next time he saw him for the inspiration. Raj was the one who’d suggested he celebrate. It was such a convenient excuse too. Hey, my birthday is coming up. Why don’t we do something?

Now if only he hadn’t blurted out the name of the first gay club that had popped into his head. Why hadn’t he named a bookstore or a restaurant or somewhere they’d actually be able to hear each other? Then again, Evan seemed like the sort of person who would thrive in dim light, surrounded by warm bodies, gyrating to a pulsating beat.

Pete wiped drool from his mouth. Maybe he hadn’t made such a bad choice after all.

In a little less than twenty-four hours, he’d find out. In fact, he hoped he was about to find out a lot more than that. This would be the first time they’d hung out outside of work. That was the real litmus test.

Pete was sure it would go well, considering how much talking they’d done already, but there was still a lot he didn’t know about Evan. Before this went any further—whatever this was—he needed to figure out if they were even compatible. Evan could have totally different values from him. He could belong to a cult. He could listen to Nickelback.

As if on cue, Pete’s phone went off just as he got to his front door. He stood on the darkened stoop beneath a parenthesis of moon and read the text Evan had sent him.

Venus is in retrograde.

His fingers trembled from the cold as he typed, What does that mean?

No clue. My brother keeps saying that and winking. It’s terrible.

The winking?

No, the fact that a member of my own family is into astrology.

Pete chuckled.

The front door wrenched open. “Pete?”

He shrieked and dropped his phone. “Jesus Christ, Mom.” He scooped it off the ground and, after checking to make sure the screen hadn’t cracked, slid it into his pocket. “What the hell?”

“Language,” she scolded, stepping back to let him into the house.

He gravitated toward the warmth seeping out of the doorway. Mom pulled her fluffy bathrobe tighter around her and took a seat at the dining room table. Papers were spread out all over it. They looked like bills at a cursory glance. There was also a cup of tea next to a plate with some half-eaten chicken nuggets and ketchup on it.

“What are you doing up this late?” Pete asked.

“Thanks to how my schedule has been, it’s morning for me. Sorry for scaring you. I heard someone walk up to the door and laugh. I figured it was either you or a deranged serial killer.”

He frowned. “So, you decided to open the door?”

“I was fairly certain it was you.” She glanced at him. His face must have been something to behold, because she giggled. “I’m not saying it was the best plan. Want some tea?”

“After working in a coffee shop all day? Definitely not. I was planning on crashing.” He shifted his weight onto his heels. “Unless you want some company? Or some help with those?” He pointed at the bills.

“No sense in both of us crying over them.” She ruffled his hair. “Get some rest.”

“Okay.” His phone was burning a hole in his pocket. He raced up the stairs to his room and flew out of his work clothes. He pulled on a shirt and some pajama bottoms and flopped into bed.

He hadn’t expected to talk to Evan that much today, since they’d seen each other this morning and were going to see each other again tomorrow, but their conversation hadn’t tapered off at all. He sent him a text: How was your day?

After clicking off his lamp, he held the glowing screen in front of his face until a response appeared.

It was great. Tomorrow will be even better.

Another text popped up right after that one. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. I was going to save it for tomorrow, but I feel like when I see you, I’ll lose my nerve.

He couldn’t even imagine a nerveless Evan. Must be something serious. He stared at the message for what felt like eons before typing, What is it?

A response came instantly, suggesting that Evan had already typed it out. Would you ever consider coming out?

He frowned. I came out when I was sixteen. Neither of my parents were surprised.

I mean coming out as a porn star.

Uh-oh. Where had that come from?

Pete instantly knew his answer: no way in hell. Just like he’d told Evan when they were outside the Globe, he’d only gotten into porn because he was certain no one would ever find out. He knew in his heart that there was nothing wrong with what he did, but he’d attended church every Sunday of his life. A lot of puritanical bullshit had been instilled in him from birth, and no matter how he tried to root it out, it was buried deep. If it weren’t for the support of his parents, he might not even be openly gay.

Heart galloping, he replied, I could never do that, no. I’m not like you. He was tempted to add something like, And I know from experience that it doesn’t always go as smoothly as it did in your case, but he held back. He wasn’t quite ready to talk about that just yet. Instead, he typed, Does that disappoint you?

He hit Send before he could change his mind. His phone was silent for six torturous minutes. Then it vibrated.

No. That’s one of many reasons why I can’t stop thinking about you.

His whole body tingled. It was the same feeling he got when he missed a stair or slipped but managed to catch himself. It gathered in the soles of his feet and then spread into the rest of him, making the fine hairs on his arms stand up. The sensation of falling was so strong, he wondered what he was falling into.

He left Evan’s last text unanswered and went to bed. The next morning, he rose early despite several attempts to sleep in. With no class and no work to help while away the time, he was forced to resort to household chores and homework. Mom was thrilled, which was its own reward, but nothing could hold his attention. He spent fifteen minutes scrubbing the same plate only to abandon it in favor of cleaning their unused stove.

It didn’t help that the sun set early in the winter, making it seem later than it was. The final few hours before his “date” dragged on for a localized eternity. He enlisted Mom’s help in selecting his outfit for the night. He told her he was going to meet up with friends, but from the twinkle in her brown eyes, he could tell she didn’t believe him.

After digging through his entire closet and discarding absolutely everything that even resembled a hoodie, they settled on a white, long-sleeve shirt with a blue sweater pulled over it and black pants. It wasn’t original, and it was far from traditional club attire, but when Pete checked out his reflection, he thought he looked pretty good.

Hopefully Evan would too.

After saying good-bye to Mom and promising not to stay out too late, he made the drive into town. The club was located near L.A. Live, one of the newer nightlife hotspots. He was miraculously able to find street parking within walking distance. He had to pay an exorbitant amount for it, but the prices would only get worse the closer he got to the clubs.

He stepped out into the cold night and made his way down Figueroa Street. Eight blocks later, a building with a neon-green sign reading Twist came into view. A paltry handful of people were waiting outside. It was only a little after nine, and nightlife in LA both started late and ended early. Until the after-parties began, of course.

He scanned the faces outside the club. None of them belonged to Evan. It occurred to him that if he wanted to call this whole thing off, now was his last chance.

Breathe, he commanded himself, as anticipation smacked into him with the force of a tidal wave. He was just hanging out with a coworker. No big deal. Evan wasn’t going to bite him. Well, actually . . .

His phone hummed. Too late to back out now. He pulled it out and scanned the short message.

Boo.

His brow scrunched. What?

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind. “Gotcha.”

Pete yelped and pried himself free.

Evan burst out laughing. “Oh my God, your face.”

“Holy shit, Evan.” He couldn’t decide if he was more startled, pissed, or pleased to see him.

“I like it when you use my real name.”

Twin spots of heat bloomed in Pete’s cheeks. “I know you do.” He’d experienced that firsthand. But it would take more than a little flirting to assuage him. “Why’d you sneak up on me?”

“I thought it’d be funny.” He smirked. “It was.”

“Whatever,” Pete grumbled. People were starting to line up in earnest. He gestured at the club. “Let’s go inside.”

They headed for the end of the line, which now had about a dozen people in it. Evan shocked him by taking his hand. He almost stopped dead in his tracks, but after a precarious wobble he kept moving, praying his hand wasn’t clammy.

He must have tensed or something, because Evan said, “Way too easy.”

Pete regarded him. “What is?”

“Getting a reaction out of you. Or at least, it is now that I know what to look for.” He squeezed his hand. “You’re freezing. We should hurry.”

The line moved mercifully quickly. To Pete’s immense embarrassment, when it was their turn, the bouncer spent at least thirty extra seconds examining his ID. Even after it passed, he made a point of drawing giant black X’s on the back of his hands with marker. Evan had the decency not to comment, though his lips kept twitching like he was fighting a smile. Pete wanted to liquesce and seep into the ground.

They entered through the metal and glass front doors. Pete was thankful and disappointed to discover clubs had not changed at all since he turned eighteen. There were flashing lights, pop music, and clusters of people at the bar. The dance floor was largely unpopulated, but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. Once the crowd had some liquid courage in it, people would turn out in droves. Pete prayed he would be spared that particular torture.

They made a stop at the coat check and then stood between the bar and the dance floor. Pete looked to Evan. “What would you like to do?”

Instead of answering, Evan pressed his fingers into the small of Pete’s back, guiding him toward the bar. Pete wet his suddenly dry lips and allowed himself to be led.

They slid into a space between a group of glittery drag queens and some hipsters.

“You want anything?” Evan asked.

Pete fingered the X on the back of one of his hands. “Water.”

“Excellent choice.”

A bartender appeared as if summoned by his decision. Evan leaned over the bar and ordered something Pete couldn’t hear. He used the opportunity to examine him. His clothing selection for the evening was similar to what Pete had seen him wear in the past: dark, well-fitting jeans and a button-down shirt that suited him so well it seemed tailored.

That pretty much confirmed it. Evan had fashion sense. Pete cursed the injustice of it. It was like he’d won some sort of gene pool lottery, whereas Pete had been given a consolation toaster.

As he stared unabashedly, something pinged in the back of Pete’s mind. He squinted at the jacket. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but he thought it might be the same one he’d worn the night of the audition. The same night Evan had cornered him on Joyce’s deck in his underwear.

Gulp.

Evan turned around suddenly. Pete averted his gaze, but it was too late. There was no way Evan hadn’t seen him staring.

Instead of teasing him, Evan pressed a cold glass into his hand. “Here. Cheers.”

Pete dutifully clinked his glass against Evan’s. It was water, as promised, but he couldn’t tell what was in Evan’s. Something dark. A rum and Coke? He’d pegged Evan as the sort to either drink beer or fruity cocktails with little umbrellas in them. Pete could picture both.

Evan answered his unasked question. “It’s Coke.”

“Just Coke? You’re not drinking?”

“Nah, it wouldn’t be fair.” Evan brushed a thumb over the back of Pete’s hand. “Besides, I want to be clearheaded for this.”

“For clubbing?”

“Something like that.” Evan took a swig of his drink and surveyed the room. “Let’s find somewhere quiet.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

Evan laughed and grabbed his hand, dragging him over to a smattering of tables on the other side of the room. They were far enough from the DJ that the bass wasn’t quite so overwhelming, though it still throbbed like a communal heartbeat in the air.

There was what appeared to be a lesbian couple at one of the tables, but they were engrossed in their own conversation. It was as close to privacy as they could get without ducking into one of the darkened corners. Pete could only imagine what went down in there. He set his drink down and took a seat. Evan did the same, and their knees brushed under the table.

Pete racked his brain for something to say, which should have been an easy task, considering there was still so much he wanted to know about Evan. All throughout the day he thought of things, but now that they were together, his mind was blank. He blamed the insistent press of Evan’s leg against his.

He decided to start simple, raising his voice over the music. “Have you been here before?”

“I have, but it’s been a while. Clubbing was never really my scene.” He looked at Pete askance. “I wouldn’t have thought it was yours either. I was surprised when you said you wanted to come here.”

Pete grinned. “What do you mean? I’m obviously a total club rat.”

“Could have fooled me. I took you for the type to have a few friends over on the weekends and drink craft beer.”

“That’s probably what I’ll do on my actual birthday. I haven’t decided yet.” He fiddled with the glass in his hand and cleared his throat. “If I end up doing a birthday thing, would you like to come?”

“Depends. Would I be your date?”

Pete choked on his own saliva. He tried not so sound as flustered as he said, “Um, yeah, I guess. If that’s, uh, what you want.”

“Maybe.” Evan’s grin was wicked. “We should probably see how tonight goes before we start planning date number two.”

Pete felt like all the blood in his body had broken loose and was sloshing aimlessly in him. “That would make this date number one, wouldn’t it?”

“And you tried to tell me you’re not smart.” He rubbed Pete’s shoulder. “It’s a date if you want it to be.”

He swallowed. “I probably wouldn’t have called it that if you hadn’t said something.”

“Why not?”

“Wouldn’t have had the nerve. I was only able to ask you out because I had my birthday as an excuse. Dates are big, scary things that I suck at.”

Evan cocked his head to the side. “What about me? Am I a big, scary thing?”

Pete wet his lips. “You used to be. Not so much anymore.”

“Then we’ve made progress.” Evan reached across the table and placed his hand on top of Pete’s. “You don’t need an excuse to spend time with me, and you don’t have to invite me to places you don’t enjoy because you feel like you should. At this point, I’d jump at the chance to put a jigsaw puzzle together with you.”

Pete’s heart mimicked the heavy rhythm of the music. “How do you see through me so easily?”

Evan leaned forward, his eyes intent on Pete’s face. “I’m looking very, very closely.”

Pete had to try twice before he could speak loudly enough to be heard. “I’m glad you told me to make a move, though I’m kind of surprised you didn’t beat me to the punch. Why didn’t you ask me?”

“What’s it matter?”

“Because you probably wouldn’t have dillydallied so much.”

Evan snorted. “‘Dillydallied’? Really? I bet that’s the first time in recorded history that someone has said ‘dillydallied’ at a club. Sure you don’t want to go with a safer word? Like ‘shilly-shallied’?”

Pete flushed. “Very funny.”

A roguish smile curved Evan’s lips. “Sorry, I can’t help it. The urge to tease you is overwhelming.”

“You’ve told me that before.”

“It’s as true now as it was then. But to answer your question, I enjoy a good chase, but not for wild geese.”

“What?”

“Dance with me.” Evan stood up, holding his hand out to Pete.

Pete blinked at it, still reeling from the sudden change in topic. When he recovered, he racked his brain for an excuse. He was still struggling when something suddenly glommed onto him from behind. The thing knocked him forward, rattling the table. If Pete had to guess, he’d wager it was a human-sized octopus.

“Hey, flamer,” cooed a familiar voice in his ear.

“Oh God, no,” Pete ground out. He jerked around in his seat, praying he was having some sort of hallucination.

But no, Joshua was standing next to him. He stepped back, an evil grin on his face. His blond hair had been gelled into spikes, and he was decked out in proverbial club clothes: skinny jeans and a slashed shirt with black mesh peeking through.

“Oh God,” Pete repeated. “Please make it go away.”

Joshua pouted. “Nice to see you too.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I come here all the time. The real question is, what are you doing here. Did you lose a bet or something?”

Pete whined like a wounded animal. How could he forget that Joshua was a club rat? And how did everyone who’d ever met him know he didn’t like clubs? This was a disaster.

“Everything all right?” Evan piped up.

Joshua glanced at Evan and then did a double-take. He looked him up and down, eyes widening with each pass. “Holy shit. Is he with you?”

“He is,” Evan answered, peering curiously at Joshua. “Who are you?”

Joshua clapped Pete on the back. “I’m Joshua. Flamer and I work together.”

Evan squinted at Pete. “Flamer?”

“Yeah, that’s what he calls me. He thinks it’s okay because he’s gay, but really it’s just uncomfortable.” Although, I’m grateful for once that he never uses my name, or my secret identity wouldn’t be so secret anymore.

“It’s just a joke,” Joshua said, eyes still glued to Evan.

Evan, however, was watching Pete. “When he says you work together, does he mean . . .”

Oh shit. Pete could see right where Evan’s brain had gone, and considering Joshua was an attractive gay man, it wasn’t a difficult leap. Pete started to deny it—just the thought of sleeping with Joshua made him queasy—but he stopped short. He couldn’t very well say, Oh no, he’s not in porn, in front of Joshua. And he couldn’t say, He works at my other job, either, or Joshua would want to know what his other other job was. Fuck.

Luckily, Joshua came to his unwitting rescue. “Ever heard of a coffee shop called the Globe?”

Evan’s eyes widened. It was funny that they’d just talked about jigsaw puzzles, because Pete could practically see him fitting pieces together in his mind. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been there.”

“That’s where we work. If you ever want to drop by, I’d be happy to serve you.” He batted long, pale eyelashes.

Pete couldn’t tell if he wanted to face-palm or throw up.

“I’d love to,” Evan cooed back.

Pete sucked in a breath. Oh God. What if Evan thought Joshua was hot?

Suddenly, Evan grabbed Pete by the hand and yanked him to his feet. “Now that I know he works there, I’m sure I’ll be by all the time. It was nice meeting you. If you’ll excuse us, we have some dancing to do.”

And with that, Evan strode off, dragging Pete with him and leaving a pouting Joshua behind with their abandoned drinks. They weaved through the crowd until they were on the far side of the dance floor, out of sight of the tables.

Evan stopped and faced him without releasing his hand. “Charming friend you have there.”

Pete prayed his hand wasn’t sweating in Evan’s grip like a cold drink on a summer day. “He’s not my friend. He’s just a coworker.”

“Yeah, I got that. You work at that coffee place I saw you in front of?”

“Um, yeah.” He shuffled his feet. “It’s my day job.”

“So, when I saw you outside that one time, and you said you had to go to work, you were being literal?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have come back when you were on break.”

Pete was conspicuously silent.

“Did you . . . not want me to know you worked there?”

“Um, sort of.”

Evan frowned. “Why? Did you think I was going to march inside and shout ‘Hey, everyone, this guy’s a porn star’?”

“No,” Pete said quickly. “Nothing like that. I just— Look, this is really embarrassing. I—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I’m”—he made an awkward gesticulation toward himself—“exactly what I am. A boring college student with a boring job and a boring life. It’s not very sexy, you know?”

Evan snorted. “You could be covered in coffee grounds and still be sexy, believe me. Out of curiosity, though, why have a second job at all? I bet that place doesn’t pay you in a week what porn does in an hour.”

“You’re right, but I live with my mom, and if I showed up with a bunch of money and no explanation for how I got it, she’d ask questions. I had to have a part-time job.”

“You could just tell her the truth.”

“I could also set myself on fire, but I have no intention of doing that either. I seriously, seriously doubt she’d be okay with it. Besides, I’d keep my day job regardless. It’s a steady paycheck I can rely on when no one books me for a month at a time. I’m not a rising star like you are. I’m not always in demand.”

Evan’s expression was impish. “Sounds like that job is your secret identity. You’re working as a reporter for the Daily Planet so no one figures out you’re actually Superman.”

“Well, when you put it like that. Thanks for taking this so well. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

“I understand,” Evan said, light and airy. “Everyone wants to look cool in front of their crush.”

“I do not!” Pete squawked, which in no way helped his case. “You’re not— I never— I’m not—”

Evan attempted to smother his laughter with a hand and was only partially successful. “I feel like a teenager.”

Pete frowned. “Because I never got over my awkward phase?”

“No, because you seem so delightfully new to this. If I weren’t certain someone had to have fallen for you by now, I’d think you’d never dated before.”

“You’re not that far off. I’ve only had two serious relationships, and one of them didn’t end well.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Not to bring up past lovers while on a,” he swallowed, “date, or anything. I think that’s one of those things you’re not supposed to do.”

Evan shrugged. “You have a past. So does everyone. I want to learn more about you, including the not-so-happy parts.”

Pete fiddled with one of his cuffs so he’d have an excuse to look down. “Really?”

Evan touched Pete’s chin and lifted it. “Yeah, and for the record, you’re not the only one with baggage. I have some horror stories of my own, if you’d care to hear them.”

“Another time,” Pete said. “I’d rather our first date was just about us.”

Evan grinned wolfishly. “Then how about that dance?”

“I don’t dance. If you think I’m awkward under normal circumstances . . .”

“I’m willing to bet you’ve just never had a good partner.” Evan laid a hand gently on his hip and used it to draw him nearer. Pete’s breathing hitched. “Come on, you invited me to a club. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t rope you into a dance at some point?”

He guided Pete into a swaying motion that matched the slow tempo of the current song. Pete slid his arms over Evan’s shoulders. Their faces were so close, Evan could probably hear how rapidly Pete was breathing.

Evan smiled. “See? It’s not so bad.”

“Only because I’m dancing with you,” Pete said. “Though I like that you get me out of my shell.” They were revolving in place. He could hear the dull murmur of voices around them, but he kept his eyes on Evan. If he focused, the rest of the club melted away, leaving them alone on the dance floor.

Suddenly, the music shifted to a more upbeat tempo. Their dance fell out of sync. Pete dropped his arms and started to move away.

Evan pulled him back. “Ready to learn another move?”

“I think I’m still getting the hang of this whole ‘swaying’ thing.”

“We can stop if you want.” He put a hand on Pete’s waist. “But I think you’ll enjoy this next one.”

Pete sucked in a breath against a sudden wave of arousal. It really wasn’t fair what Evan could do to him with a simple look.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured. “Show me.”

Pete had no idea how Evan heard him, but judging by the wicked curve to his lips, he understood. He slotted their hips together, one of his thighs insinuated between Pete’s legs. Then he gripped Pete’s waist. “Move against me like this.” He rolled his hips in a way that was nothing short of obscene.

Pete went from awkward to weak with arousal in a flash. He imitated the movement clumsily, praying his fledgling erection wasn’t too obvious.

“It’s more like this.” Evan slid his hands down to the small of Pete’s back and bodily showed him how to move. Within seconds their dance devolved into grinding. It was all Pete could do to hold on and try not to get embarrassingly hard. But with Evan pressed to him, warm and solid and insistent, it was a labor of Herculean proportions.

Evan’s mouth found Pete’s ear. “You asked me out because you wanted to get to know me, right?”

Pete exhaled shakily. “Right.”

“This, in my opinion, is the best way to get to know someone.”

Pete struggled to think as desire rolled through him like smoke, blotting out all other thought. “By humping them?”

Evan chuckled, the sound a deep vibration that mingled with the bass. “No, by dancing with them.”

“What can you learn from that?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” He brushed their cheeks together. “You, for example, have this whole quiet, shy thing going on, yet you have no problem with this very public display of affection we’re committing right now.”

Pete suddenly remembered they were in a room full of people. He looked around, and made eye contact with a few people who were watching them. Most of the attention was directed at Evan, but Pete saw one guy who was definitely looking at him.

“What does that tell you about me?” he asked, even though he had an inkling of where Evan was going with this.

Evan lifted a hand to his face, cupping it and sweeping a thumb over one of his cheekbones. “I think you’re not as shy as you pretend to be. If you were, you couldn’t be in our line of work. I bet if I got you turned on enough, I could take you into one of those dark nooks and do whatever I wanted to you.”

“Evan,” Pete whimpered, “I’m already turned on.”

Evan groaned and brushed his lips along Pete’s jaw. “I almost wish you hadn’t told me that. You’re so very tempting, Jaden.”

Pete frowned. He wasn’t sure why, but his stage name sounded jarring all of a sudden.

“What is it?” Evan asked, apparently sensing his tension. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, actually.” Pete knew what he had to do. His purpose in asking Evan out tonight was to find out who he really was, but he couldn’t do that if he wasn’t being himself. It wasn’t fair to either of them. He craned his neck down until his lips were hovering right by Evan’s ear, and whispered, “Pete.”

Evan twitched, and Pete suspected his breath had tickled him. “Peat? Like that stuff they use for fuel in Scotland?”

“Technically yes, but I mean I’m Pete.”

Evan almost smacked their heads together. “What?”

“That’s my real name. Pete Griflow.” Pete shrugged to hide the healthy dose of panic washing through him. Had Evan felt this way when he’d told him? Scared and nervous and utterly exhilarated? “Glamorous, I know.”

In lieu of an answer, Evan grabbed two fistfuls of his sweater and walked him backward off the dance floor. He didn’t stop until Pete’s back hit a wall next to a support beam. There was virtually no cover. Half the room could see them if they looked over, but Evan didn’t seem to care.

“Pete,” Evan said.

“Don’t wear it out,” Pete joked nervously.

“I didn’t think— It’s been so long since I told you.” His eyes were skittering along Pete’s features, from his hair to his mouth to his chest and up again, as if he were seeing him for the first time. “I was starting to think you were never going to—” He stopped and shook his head. “Which would have been fine, of course, it’s your name.”

“I would have told you eventually no matter what.”

Evan nodded. “I’d hoped you would. I’m sorry. I’m babbling. I’m just really happy to meet you, Pete.”

Pete put his hands over Evan’s. “It was about time we graduated to being on a first-name basis.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Evan let out a breath and pressed closer. “Knowing your real name is weirdly hot. I can’t even explain it. It’s like this naughty little secret we share.”

“We have a few of those now.”

“Pete.” It was clear from his tone that he wasn’t addressing him, more like listening to the sound. “Just to warn you, I might say your name until it loses all meaning.”

“I felt the same way when you told me yours. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I kept repeating it over and over. Evan.”

He shuddered. “Fuck, it’s ridiculous how much that turns me on. I can just imagine you doing it too. And it’s extra hot because everyone else calls me Darko.”

“Darko is sexy, though.”

“I like Pete. It’s not the most exciting secret identity, but it suits you.”

“Oh, thanks,” he teased. “Because I’m not exciting?”

“Believe me, you’re the most exciting man I know.” He rocked his hips against him like he’d done out on the dance floor. Pete gasped. Even through denim it was obvious how hard he was.

“So, Pete,” Evan said, skimming his lips along Pete’s jaw, “where do we go from here?”

The energy between them shifted in an instant, escalating like a spark bursting into a flame. Pete had wanted Evan before, but now he hungered for him. It was like the part of him that had been holding back this whole time had finally given in, and all the lust he felt for Evan had broken free.

“Evan, I want you.”

Evan kissed his neck, openmouthed and hot. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

A shiver spilled down Pete’s spine, and his cock swelled, straining against his pants. He drew a deep breath that somehow made him feel like he had less air than before. “Kiss me.”

Evan obeyed like he’d been waiting to hear those words his whole life.

It was a harsh kiss, needy and desperate, and Pete couldn’t get enough. He slid his fingers into Evan’s hair and tugged, trying to pull him closer even as their mouths sealed together. He felt a flash of teeth against his bottom lip—just enough to make him whimper—and then Evan ran his tongue over the flesh he’d just abused.

Pete didn’t know if it was possible to faint from being too turned on, but there was a chance he was about to find out.

“Do you know why I wasn’t drinking tonight?” Evan sucked on a mouthful of his skin, pulling off with a wet, popping noise.

“Fuck, ah, Evan,” was all Pete could say in response.

“It’s because I thought this might happen. Hell, I wanted it to. And I wanted to feel every part of it with complete clarity. But more importantly—” he licked the section of skin that Pete suspected he’d just left a hickey on “—I wanted you to know I was sober.”

Pete could barely put words together well enough to ask, “Why?”

Evan took Pete’s face in both of his hands and spoke against his mouth, his lips sliding over him like velvet. “You don’t know how maddening it’s been, trying to get you to realize how much I like you. I thought I was painfully obvious. I even outright propositioned you, but still you seemed to think I didn’t mean it. Well, not tonight. There are no cameras here, Pete, no scripts, no Colette ordering me to kiss you, and I haven’t had a drop to drink. Everything I’m doing right now is because I want to.” He drew a ragged breath. “I want this. I want you. Please tell me I can have you.”

Pete could scarcely speak. He stared at him, wide-eyed. He’d known for a while now that Evan liked him, but Evan had just demonstrated that he understood him. His weird insecurities and neuroses and all the back and forth that had been clouding his head ever since they’d first met. And that . . . that was shockingly hot.

He looked Evan square in the eye. “I’m yours.”

Evan made a sound in the back of his throat that was like a moan collided with a growl. Then he pressed their lips so hard together, it actually rocked Pete back against the wall. Evan kissed him breathless. He kissed with a vengeance, but also like they had all the time in the world to discover every way their mouths could fit together.

Pete kissed him back to the best of his ability, but it wasn’t enough. Now that he’d given in, he needed more. The things they’d done so far were just an aperitif, a flirtation that merely whet his appetite.

He trailed his hands slowly down the side of Evan’s face to his chest, and then finally to his stomach, giving him time to move away if he wanted to. Instead, Evan canted into the touch, like he wanted to accelerate Pete’s inevitable journey south.

Pete reached the waistband of his jeans and dipped his fingers into them, stroking all the skin he could reach. Evan gasped against his mouth, making his lips tingle. Pete panted for breath. He pulled back, resting his sweaty brow against Evan’s, and panted for a second. His hot breaths mixed with Evan’s. He was tense with the anticipation of knowing where this was headed, and Evan felt the same against him.

There was so much he wanted, so much to taste and touch and explore, but he couldn’t overthink this. Swallowing, Pete pulled one hand out of Evan’s pants and traced the outline of his erection though his jeans. Evan quivered like a plucked string and moaned so throatily, Pete swore he felt it in his bones.

Distantly, Pete realized he’d never seen Evan’s cock. That needed to be rectified immediately.

Pete fumbled with his fly, fingers shaking too hard to make any real progress. Evan made a pathetic noise and rested his head on Pete’s shoulder like he lacked the strength to support it.

“Is this okay?” Pete mumbled, bleary with lust. “Can I touch you?”

Evan didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, Pete. Please.”

Confidence surged into him. Fuck, it was intoxicating to be the one reducing Evan to a puddle for once. His fingers steadied, and he popped the button open. Just as his fingers touched the zipper, a bright light flashed in his face. He threw a hand up to shield his eyes, blinking away a stinging red afterimage.

“What the fuck?” It was Evan’s voice.

“You two, out,” barked a man.

Pete peered over Evan’s shoulder. A burly man holding a flashlight was standing nearby, wearing a black shirt with the word security written across it in block, white letters. Shit. A bouncer.

“What’s your problem?” Evan asked.

“You are. You can’t fuck in the club. If you wanna get it on, get a room.” He stepped back and waved toward the exit with his flashlight. “Out.”

Shit.

Evan took Pete’s hand. “I was just thinking I could use some fresh air.”

He tugged Pete toward the exit. To Pete’s horror, the bouncer followed after, shining his light on them the whole way as if to prevent them from slipping back into the crowd. Pete kept his head down until they were back outside in the frigid night air.

There was hardly anyone on the streets, meaning everyone had likely found their party for the night. Pete pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was 11:46 p.m. It felt like they’d been in there for years, but it had only been three hours.

Pete sneaked a peek at Evan. He had his hands in his pockets and was looking up at the stars with a sly smile on his face. He seemed inexplicably pleased.

Pete apologized anyway. “Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away.”

“Don’t worry about it. Of all the reasons to get kicked out of a club, we picked the best one.” He glanced at Pete. “Did you drive here?”

It was a simple question, but it made Pete’s heart skip. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your car?”

Pete nodded to the right. “About five minutes that way.” Is he going to ask me for a ride home? Or to come back to his place?

As if reading his thoughts, Evan took a step toward him. “That’s a shame. I wanted to offer to drive you home. Maybe I can make it up to you some other way.” He took Pete’s hand—already icy from the wind—and brought it to his lips. “If I were a true gentleman, I’d at least walk you to your car.”

“At least,” Pete agreed.

“It would give me a chance to say good night to you properly.”

Pete felt a renewed surge of arousal. He leaned unthinkingly toward Evan. “And what does a proper good night from Evan Darko entail?”

Evan grinned his trademark devilish grin and brought their lips a hair’s breadth apart. Pete could almost feel the unspoken invitation burning against his skin.

Please, Pete thought desperately, please, God, invite me back to your place.

And then Evan did the worst thing imaginable. He stepped away. “Drive safe. I’ll talk to you soon, Pete.”

Evan turned on his heel and walked away.