1
Skylar
“Damn, you know how to shake your ass!”
I gave it an extra wiggle as I dropped down, bounced a couple of times, then stood up real slow, giving the guy an even better view of the booty he was admiring.
He stuffed a twenty in my tight, pink Speedo. “Thanks, love.” I winked, then continued to dance.
The Playground, the Portland gay bar I worked at, was crazy tonight, full of pretty boys dancing, kissing, and offering me money to do something I already enjoyed doing for them—performing.
Beads of sweat rolled down my body. When I felt something wet on my calf, I looked down to see someone had licked me. “Hey. None of that. I don’t know where your tongue has been. Do it again, and I’ll have security throw you out.” Obviously, not everything was perfect. There was an asshole in every crowd. I didn’t mind being licked, but I was all for giving my consent for it first.
When I turned away from the tongue, my eyes met dark-brown ones across the room. The guy had his arms crossed. He was gorgeous—blond and muscular, with lips to die for. He’d hit me up earlier, and we’d decided to hang out when I got off work tonight.
I winked at him, and he grabbed his crotch. So okay, maybe he was a tad over the top, but he was pretty to look at.
I finished my dance, and when there was a tap on my thigh, I saw Peter, another dancer who would take my spot for a while. I climbed down. “Have fun, man,” I told him, then made my way to the back.
I pulled sweaty money out of my underwear, straightened the notes, and stuffed them in my locker.
“Hey, you.” Jesse approached me. Like he almost always did, he had on a full face of makeup. Jesse was my closest friend at the Playground. He used to only work in the main part of the bar with me, but now he also spent time in the Underground, the downstairs bar, which had a speakeasy vibe to it. They posted a password on Instagram every day, and you had to have it to get in. Jesse sometimes sang there, and his boyfriend, Dane, tended bar in both places.
“What’s up, Jesse?” We always had some kind of friendly competition going. It used to be about things like who got the hottest man for the night, but he’d been in love with Dane for a while, and they were in a committed relationship. Nowadays it tended to be about who pulled in more tips, or was more flexible, or looked better in their outfit. All in good fun, though. I would do anything for Jesse, and I knew he would for me too.
Jesse said, “Some guy licked the sweat off my leg out there.”
“Oh my God. Me too!”
“He got kicked out. I thought Dane’s head was gonna pop.”
We chuckled. Dane wasn’t the jealous type. He knew dancing was Jesse’s job, but that didn’t mean he wanted Jesse’s sweat lapped up as if it were a bowl of milk and the other guy a kitten.
We chatted for a while before we had to go out and dance again. One of my favorite things about it was the way I could lose myself, simply let my body take over and everything else drain from my mind. I used to get that same feeling from gymnastics. I’d started when I was five and fell instantly in love. Mom and I hadn’t had much in life, but even though she’d always struggled, she made sure we could afford my lessons. It had been the only thing I’d felt good at when I was younger, and it helped me forget all the other shit.
It was almost closing time, and I was dancing up on a podium, the muscles in my legs feeling slightly weak from all the movement that day, when I heard, “Skylar!”
I turned to see Burt, one of our security guards, standing close to the riser, so I bent down and asked him, “Did the weird licking guy get back in?”
“No. There’s, um…there’s a lady outside? She’s crying and upset. She says she’s your mom?”
My heart dropped to my gut, making me nauseous. “Fuck,” I gritted out.
“Go.” Burt nodded toward the door. “I’ll get someone to fill in.”
“Thanks, man.” I leaped down and worked my way through the crowd to the front door. My stomach was in knots, this strange mixture of worry that something bad had really happened and frustration because I had a feeling it was more of the same old thing. Still, she’d never shown up at work like this before. That thought made my feet move faster, until I felt the fresh air around me.
The sidewalk was busy as always on a Friday night—people waiting to get in, people coming out, and those who just liked to be in the middle of everything.
An umpf escaped me when Mom came out of nowhere and threw her arms around me. I wasn’t a big guy—small bones, sinewy, and only five eight, so basically the definition of the twink badge I wore proudly. I kept myself in shape, though, and was proud of my strong, lean muscles.
“You almost took me out,” I teased, hoping it pulled a smile out of her. Mom was only about an inch shorter than me, but she’d come at me full force when I wasn’t expecting it.
“Arnold cheated on me!” Her voice was full of tears. “I walked in on him having sex with someone else. Why me? Why does this always happen to me?”
I wrapped my arms around her and held her while she cried, right there on the crowded sidewalk while I was sweaty and almost naked. She didn’t care. Mom’s emotions were running high—that was nothing new, especially when it came to men—and if I didn’t hold her right then and there or suggested we should go somewhere else, she would think I didn’t love her or that I wasn’t supporting her.
Mom and I had a complicated relationship. We were close, always had been. She’d had me when she was seventeen, and we basically grew up together, struggling along the way. The difference was, in some regards she still had a lot of growing up to do. Growing up I’d already done, and by that, I mostly meant where men were concerned.
Mom fell in love with every guy she met, always getting her heart broken. I learned my lessons from her and wasn’t going to fall in love or settle down for anything in the world.
“He’s a dick,” I told her. “I always thought he was a dick. All men are dicks. Well, except me. I’m the best.”
I relaxed slightly when she chuckled, but then she said, “I thought he was special.”
She always thought that. She could know them for ten minutes, and she would decide they were unique. She’d hand them her heart on a silver platter, then come to me when they destroyed it. Things had been that way my whole life, and unfortunately, I didn’t see that ever changing.
I rubbed my hand up and down her back. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I surprised him. I went to his apartment. The door wasn’t locked. They were fucking right there on the couch. He asked if I wanted to join them.”
“Ouch. I mean, if he wanted a threesome, he could have asked ahead of time. They can be fun.” Most people would think how I talked to my mom was weird, but it was just us. Like I said, we’d always been close. No matter what, we’d always been there for each other. She’d always accepted me for who I am, even when I was young and it was very obvious I was queer as fuck. She hadn’t let anyone give me shit, and even if it broke her heart, if a boyfriend was an asshole about me, she kicked them to the curb.
She tried her best to take care of my heart. She was just shit at taking care of her own, so I tried to help when I could.