Pretty Sweet - Christina Lee Page 0,89
would possibly want anything more than good sex.
I was a bisexual man in a gay club, and embracing this side of myself felt good. But the conversations weren’t any different than ones I’d heard from my straight, single friends. Suppose we were all looking for a connection in one way or another, even if it was only for one night.
Speaking of connections, Jesse and Seth appeared from the back room to claps and wolf whistles, and as they walked onto the small stage, I nearly swallowed my tongue.
“Holy shit,” I said a bit too loudly, and the guy next to me murmured in agreement as he gawked at the both of them.
Seth was wearing a cropped jacket that exposed his smooth stomach, shorts that showed off his toned thighs, a fedora, and a full face of makeup. And there was a different air about him tonight as well. Poised and confident and sensual all wrapped in one nice package. Hot damn. He was free to wear that getup for me anytime.
When our eyes met across the room, Seth dipped his head as if momentarily losing himself again but then seemed to regain his composure and lifted his chin up high. And damn if I didn’t love seeing this side of him.
Jesse looked great too in a similarly designed ensemble, but I couldn’t seem to drag my gaze away from Seth long enough to notice the finer details. Dane sure had, though, as he stood perfectly still watching them, until his barback nudged him to snap out of it.
The guys on the stools next to me went on about how hot they looked, especially when Jesse started crooning his first Sinatra song. His voice was superb, the music sublime, but the men wouldn’t shut up long enough to let me get into the music.
“I think I need a closer look,” one of the guys said, making the motion to get up.
His friend’s hand landed on his arm as he told him to pipe down and stay seated. “Just enjoy the show.”
Usually that sort of ogling wouldn’t have bothered me much—I heard it from Tad and Brett at bars all the time—but listening to it being said so blatantly about the guy I was in love with? It got under my skin.
“That’s my man you’re talking about,” Dane said with a wink as he approached the two for drink orders and most likely overheard something they’d said.
“You’re one lucky bastard,” the guy next to me replied.
“That I am,” Dane said, then arched a brow at me. Dane must be used to hearing that shit all the time, and if he was able to shrug it off, then I needed to take a page from his book. Besides, they weren’t wrong. My guy was definitely hot as hell, and talented too.
As I watched their set, the second beer Dane had placed in front of me helped relax me further until I finally tuned everyone else out. Damn, Jesse and Seth were good together, and seeing Seth really own the stage, standing during one number to bang on the keys in front of him, was mesmerizing.
The guy next to me had gotten up at some point, and I’d lost sight of him until I spotted him closer to the stage, shoving a chunk of dollar bills into their tip jar. He stayed planted near the edge of the piano and seemed a bit unsteady as he swayed to the music. Christ, how many drinks had they had? When I glanced over at his friend, he was involved in a flirty conversation with someone new, which was probably why he was left to his own devices.
When Jesse left the stage to travel around the room, much like he did last time, he flirted a little with the guy near the piano and then playfully pushed him off when he attempted to wrap an arm around his waist.
“No touching,” he drawled into the microphone. “My man doesn’t like that.”
I noticed how Dane tensed briefly as he watched, then nodded in Jesse’s direction and got back to serving drinks. But once he was near me again, he leaned over, as if sensing my discomfort about the customer. “Don’t worry. That dude has been here before. He’s harmless.”
“If you say so,” I replied with a shrug and tried to play it cool, but I didn’t feel it for a minute. People thought my father was harmless too. He could come off as charming to people who didn’t know