Page 2 of Sinful Nights
Everyone nods in agreement as Max passes each one of us, making his way over to his stool. While some of us dress up in lingerie, or close to nothing at all, a lot of the guys dress up in construction wear, or as firefighters, anddamndo they make a shit ton of tips as well. There is truly a show for everyone.
A loud sigh escapes Bash’s lips before he whispers, “Need sweets.” He throws himself back onto the couch, tossing his arm over his face dramatically as he sighs again.
“Oh god,” Declan mutters, walking over to his booth and snatching a lollipop out of the candy dish. He tosses it at Bash, barely missing his head.
Bash narrows his eyes, popping the candy into his mouth. “You could have taken an eye out, ya know?”
“Maybe that’s what I was hoping for.” Declan smiles sweetly, giving Bash a quick wink. “One day your teeth will fall out while you’re sucking a random guy’s dick and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Oh my god,” I utter, my eyes widening. You would think I wouldn’t be shocked by Declan’s words at this point, but then he says something like that, and I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Can you imagine?” I wheeze, trying to catch my breath. “Sucking so hard, cheeks hollowed, and your tongue is doing that swirly thing when all of a sudden ‘oops there go my teeth!’” I bend over, my arm wrapping around my stomach.
“I don’t think it’s that funny,” Bash murmurs, twirling the lollipop in his mouth. “I go to the dentist regularly; I doubt any of my teeth will fall out.”
“Yeah, but now every time you’re swallowing a cock, I’ll be like that little devil on your shoulder, taunting you with the fact that your teeth could fall out at any second.”
“Now I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life,” I say once I finally catch my breath. Getting to my feet, I go over to my backpack, my body sinking when I notice there isn’t a message from Oak there for me. Spinning around, I put on a broad grin. One that’s definitely fake, but they won’t be able to tell. “So, are we all going out or what? I could use a huge chocolate chip pancake with a chocolate milkshake. Extra whipped cream.”
Everyone agrees to go out after our shift, and for a split second, I experience happiness before the crashing sensation of sadness floods me again as my mind drifts back to my empty phone.
2
OAKLEY
Walking up the steps,I stuff my hands deeper into my pockets as a gush of wind hits my face. Pissed, irritated, and annoyed; all the feelings are rushing through me right now. It never fails, no matter whom I seem to date. The first few weeks are like a honeymoon period. They’re on their best behavior, we’re having a great time, and then they try to tell me I’m too close to Cole and I need to give them more attention.
What the actual fuck.
It’s somehow still surprising to me, even though at this point in my life, it shouldn’t be. They try to tell me we spend too much time together, or they try to get me to spend more and more time with them. But what they all fail to realize is that they’ll never be number one in my life. That spot’s been taken since I was five years old, and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon. It’s just getting tiring having to go through the same ol’ song and dance.
Alex and I got into yet another fight tonight over Cole. I kept trying to leave our date a little early, but she would not let up. All I wanted was to head over to Peaches and cheer Cole on while he got on stage. As soon as she realized where I was going, she started bitching at me. I do this, and I do that, and I never thinkof her feelings or what she’s going through. To be honest, I tuned out for about 80% of her speech, which she realized and started lecturing me on that as well. I finally had enough and walked away to the sound of her screeching in my ears like a banshee. I’m not planning to call her again. Hell no.
The quiet sound of nothing hits my ears as I enter Cole’s and my apartment. My shoulders slump, knowing that he’s already asleep. Dammit. Using the small nightlight in the hallway, I let it guide me as I head into the kitchen to grab a cold water bottle. Guzzling down half of it, I sigh, leaning against the counter, dropping my head to my chest. Fuck, I’m tired as hell. All I want to do is crawl into bed, shove my blanket over my head, and fall asleep quickly.
A waft of smoke hits my nostrils, and I grimace, realizing I smell like that bar I was sitting in. Ripping my black shirt over my head, I snatch up my water and head into the bathroom. I turn on the shower, toss all my clothes into the hamper, then stand under the rushing hot water for far longer than necessary. Once my skin is a wrinkly, pruney mess, I head into my room, sliding a pair of briefs up my legs. Pulling down my blanket, I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable.
Ugh. Nothing is working.
Getting up, I tiptoe down the hall, opening Cole’s door, wincing when it creaks. Cole is in the fetal position, facing away from the door. He has his hood over his head, but I can guarantee he has his headphones on and it’s playing some type of white music. I never listen to music while I’m sleeping, but Cole always tells me how relaxing it is. Some nights it’s white noise or water sounds, and one night he even listened to animal sounds. I, on the other hand, need it to be dark and quiet when I go to sleep.
Crawling into his bed, I snuggle in close, my body relaxing when his deflates next to me. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and I smile as my eyes drift closed. This was what I needed.
The aroma and sounds of sizzling bacon greet me as I blink my eyes open. Stretching widely, I’m confused for a few seconds before remembering I climbed into Cole’s bed last night. I have no shame in admitting that one of us finds himself in the other’s bed multiple times a week. It’s been that way for years. It started off when we would hang out and fall asleep playing video games, then it transitioned to when we would drink too much and didn’t want to move. Then it just became a habit. I don’t know about Cole, but I seem to sleep a lot better when he’s next to me. There’s just something relaxing about being next to your best friend.
Which is another thing Alex fought with me about.
Rolling my eyes, I toss the blankets off my body and sit up against the side of the bed. For a split second, I had forgotten about my fight with her last night. I already know I need to message her and apologize for walking out, but not just yet. I’m still too irritated. Even though I know we’re done, I still don’t want to seem like a dick.
After taking a piss and brushing my teeth, I make my way out to the kitchen. Cole is in a pair of red plaid pajama pants with a black sweatshirt and his Beats over his ears. Those damn headphones. There have been so many days when I’ve had to yell and shout down the hallway, trying to get his attention, only to realize he probably had them on his ears and hadn’t been able to hear a word I’d said.
I take a spot next to the couch, watching as he takes some tongs to flip the bacon. His long brown hair is unruly, and his fingers likely ran through it countless times during his sleep last night. He’s swaying his hips, drawing attention to his lean body. While he isn’t as muscular as I am, he’s also not skinny. He has no idea I’m awake, and it’s hilarious watching him dance around the stove. Of course, Cole can dance—he works as a stripper for fuck’s sake—but the dancing he’s doing right now would not earn him any tips.
I try to stifle my laughter as he brings the tongs to his body and seductively trails them down his sweatshirt, leaving behind a grease trail. He grabs hold of the handle, then spins the pan before doing a body roll against the stove. I have never in my life seen someone try to cook seductively, and it’s hilarious. It’s like having a Magic Mike show in my very own kitchen. He lets go of the handle to flip the bacon when it starts popping.
“Shit, fuck, damn, owww,” he chants, flicking his hand back and forth as he jumps up and down in place.
At this point, I can’t stop myself, and I laugh loudly, but of course, he doesn’t turn around since he can’t hear me.
“Whose bright idea was it to make breakfast anyway?” he mumbles, leaning far away from the pan, making sure he doesn’t get hit with the hot grease again. “Fucking bacon, you better not attack me again. Or else I’ll fry your ass to a burnt crisp. Don’t try me,” he scolds, pointing the tongs toward the bacon as it’s sizzling loudly in the pan.
