Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Tam seemed to understand. “Yeah,” he said. “Then there’s Ansel, Hop, and Lirim.”
Driver didn’t remember anyone named Lirim. “Lirim wasn’t at your party.”
“No, he—”
The waitress interrupted, delivering plates of steaming food.
“Whoa, this is too much,” Tam said once she left.
Driver picked up his chopsticks and rubbed them together. “Please, you’ve got to have a high metabolism the way you dance. I bet you could eat all of this on your own without breaking a sweat.”
Tam’s eyebrow lifted. “Is that a challenge?”
“Hell, no. I know when I’m beat.” Driver popped a piece of roasted duck into his mouth and his eyes rolled back in pleasure.
“That good?”
Still chewing, Driver moaned his approval and noted the spreading flush on Tam’s pale skin. It was pretty warm in the restaurant even though they’d both removed their outer layers, but something told Driver the temperature wasn’t the reason for Tam’s pinkened cheeks. With a dirty pleasure, he licked his lips and reached across the table to nab a piece of Tam’s pork.
“Hey.” His chopsticks snapped at Driver’s. “Thief.”
“Too slow,” Driver said, right before he ate the stolen meat.
Tam’s eyes heated and with a defiant stare he brought a duck roll between his lips—and bit.
Driver swallowed. “So, you play hardball. I like it.”
Chapter Ten
“Stage Left?” Tam studied the sign above the front door.
After an educational and flirtatious meal of scrumptious noodles and meat, not to mention another ball-tingling motorcycle ride, Tam’s resistance was thin. Everything about Driver was dangerous, from his name to his vehicle, and all of it called to a buried part of Tam that longed to live dangerously, to be daring and brave.
“It’s a theater thing.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a drama nerd.”
“Shows what you know. I can sing all the best show tunes.” Driver held open the door as he had at the restaurant. His large palm warmed the small of Tam’s back in a way that made him want to sink into the touch.
“Prove it,” Tam said.
Driver’s reply was muffled by the chorus of voices melding together in song. Tam took in the scene. The walls were theater red, some covered with velvet, like stage curtains. Broadway posters decorated the bare walls. The lights were dimmed and a projector hanging from the ceiling played a familiar movie. The place was crowded with patrons, some singing along, some in costume, some drinking, but all of them smiling or laughing.
“Crap. It’s Rocky Horror night.” Driver took Tam’s hand and headed back out the door. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“What? Why?”
“This crowd is intense on a normal night, but on Rocky Horror night it’s insane.”
“More like amazing.” Tam watched a guy standing on the corner table sing about being a sweet transvestite. He wore a black bustier and stockings, not as well as Ansel could’ve, but confidently enough to be attractive.
“Just wait until they get to ‘Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me.’”
“Can you sing along?”
Driver rubbed a hand down his face. “Yes.”
Tam’s cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Before he could ask, Driver was shaking his head. “Not gonna happen, but we can stay if you want.”
They made their way to the bar.
“Well slap my ass and call me sugar,” the bartender said to Driver. “Here to work?” He noticed Tam. “Guess not.”
“I wanted to use your pool table. That cool?”
“‘Course. Want a drink before you head up?” The last was directed toward Tam.
“Um...”
“I’ll make him something.” Him.
Tam flinched, then waited for the scorn that usually followed that revelation.
The bartender’s eyebrow lifted, his gaze shifting from Tam to Driver then back to Tam. He kept his obvious curiosity to himself though, waving a hand at Driver, like, well what are you waiting for? Then offered it to Tam. “I’m Brandon Bishop. Welcome to Stage Left.”
Relief flooded Tam as they shook. “Tameron Kis. Great place.” And that was all there was too it, no awkwardness, no questions, just utter acceptance.
This guy was bigger than Driver and broader as well, and he had a full beard and deep, kind eyes. He wore a knit beanie on his head even though the pub was warmer than warm. His plain T-shirt was tight around his pecs and biceps. He looked more like a bodybuilder than someone you’d find in a theater bar.
Behind them, the song ended and the singing quieted, but every once in a while someone would shout the lines with perfect inflection. Driver maneuvered behind the bar with Brandon.
“You like the theater?” Brandon asked while he poured gin into his shaker.
“I’ve never been.”
Brandon’s frown was dramatic. “That’s a damn shame.” He leaned closer so he rested his elbows on the bar, eyes hooded and focused on Tam. “I’d love to educate you.” The extra wink sent the innuendo over the top.
He probably shouldn’t have been so shocked that Driver had a gay or bisexual friend, considering how open and accepting Driver had been with Tam’s group. But whenever he pictured Driver hanging out he imagined him doing typical macho-man things like drinking whiskey and watching strippers. Of all the people who should know better than to judge a book by its cover, Tam should. His own prejudice was kind of embarrassing.