“I thought this was ladies’ night?” Chad asked.
“It is. The girls are just getting off their shift.”
“Hey, Ace!” the topless girl shouted, her tits bouncing as she went up on her toes in her platform heels and kissed him on the cheek.
He squeezed her shoulder, which Chad found surprisingly sweet. “Hey, sweetheart. I like the hair. That new?”
She plumped her long, deep red mane. “Yep, Chrissie’s getting her license, so I let her practice on me.”
A woman with blonde hair peeked her head out of a doorway, smacking her gum. “You like it, Ace? I tried a new technique.”
Chad assumed the blonde Ace was smiling at was Chrissie. “Yep. Looks great. School going okay, then?”
“Yeah, I love it! Six more months and I’ll have my certification.”
“Good for you.” Ace kissed her on the head and pointed in Chad’s direction. “New kid. His name is—” He paused and Chad furrowed his brows. “Rod.”
Chad stared at him with big eyes. Because they hadn’t discussed a—Jesus Christ—a stripper name, and if Chad was going to pick something, it sure as hell wouldn’t have been Rod.
But he was stuck now, because Chrissie and Red Hair were smiling at him and saying, “Hey, Rod!” So he had to grit his teeth and wave back.
“Hey, ladies.”
Red Hair was actually Brandi.
With an i.
Fucking stripper names.
But the girls were, obviously, very attractive and friendly, and they were just like Chad, working here to give themselves a brighter future. If those were the people working here, it might not be so bad.
And then he saw what he had to wear. And nearly walked out.
Because really, he should probably just be naked. It would be more comfortable than squeezing his ass and package into those tiny red briefs Ace was holding up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
They stood in the men’s dressing room, which wasn’t very large, but big enough for a mirror stretched along one wall with a table in front of it full of what looked to be cosmetics and body spray. There was a guy in the corner getting dressed who completely ignored them. Ace stood in the middle of the room and waved the briefs from side to side. “Wear me, Rod,” he said in a high voice.
Chad snatched them out of Ace’s hands. “You could have consulted with me on a name, fuck you very much.” He shook his head. “Rod.”
“Rod is a great stripper name! The puns about rods are infinite. I did you a favor.”
“I would have chosen something much cooler.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Chad took off his shirt and stuffed it in his bag. “Maybe Rock. Or Jax.”
Ace rolled his eyes and began to dress himself, thankfully turning his back on Chad as he struggled into those damn briefs. Normally, Chad would have loved to ogle Ace’s bare ass as he got dressed, but that felt not right. And if nothing else that night had been a clue, not wanting to ogle a hot ass should have had Chad hightailing it home.
But instead he slapped his hands on his hips and declared, “Done!” and stood there in untied motorcycle boots and red briefs.
Ace wore a pair of bright blue briefs. Shit, the two of them looked like a homoerotic Captain America cosplay. Ace gave him a once-over, then grabbed a tube of something off the table. He squeezed something onto his hands and then rubbed them together as he approached. Chad held his hands up and backed away. “Whoa, whoa, what’s that?”
“Turn around.”
“Is that lube? Why the fuck do I need to turn around?”
“It’s not lube, you dumbass. Calm down. It’s just lotion. Makes you look shiny and sexy, and I don’t know. We’re supposed to wear it.”
“I can put it on myself.” His voice was close to a squeak. The guy in the corner lifted his head and raised his eyebrows. Chad shot him a glare.
Ace sighed with infinite patience. “You can’t get your back. Now will you calm down? You’ve spent a month flirting with me, and now you’re freaking out because I need to touch your back.”
Chad huffed and turned around so Ace didn’t see his face. He closed his eyes as those big hands began rubbing the lotion on his skin.
To make him shiny.
Like he was a pie to glaze.
Ace directed him to grease up the rest of his skin himself and Chad scurried over to the mirror, grateful he didn’t have to be close to Ace anymore. No need for him to see his nerves.
He rested his hands on the table when he was done and eyed himself in the mirror while Ace talked to the other guy in the room.
This wasn’t that big of a deal. He was just delivering drinks. Albeit in much less clothing. But still. No big deal. It didn’t have to be a thing. He could do this job and pocket the cash. Was it really Owen’s business how he made his money, anyway? He needed to stop worrying about what Owen thought. He wasn’t a hooker, he was a waiter in a pair of Speedos. He was Chad Lake, and he’d done crazier things than this. Fuck what other people thought—including let me call my professor friends Owen.