“I’m not sure about tonight,” I told her. “It’s been a rough week at work. I’d really rather chill at home.”
She waved her hand in the air, making a blah-blah gesture at me without even looking my way. “Your weeks are always rough. You’re coming with me, Eddie.”
Sheri was a nurse but earned good extra money as a plus size lingerie model. Not only did she have impeccable skin, big perky boobs and a gorgeous round ass, but she had perfected that sexy, come-get-me smirk that made people of all genders stare at her with confused longing.
Tonight, she wore a frilly skirt and a decadent corset straight out of a burlesque show. She ran her tongue over the thin gap between her front teeth—even that looked hot on her—blew herself a kiss in the mirror and palmed her tits.
“I look like a snack.”
She would be a snack, alright. A four-course dinner if she’d get her way.
“Why is it called a dinner club when they serve no food?” Aaron asked. He didn’t lift his gaze from his computer screen.
Sheri rolled her eyes. “Is he joking, or is he really this clueless?”
“The human guests are the dinner, Aaron,” I said.
“Oh. That makes sense.”
Aaron was the lucky bastard who got to stay at home. Sheri never tried to drag him out, only me, which was unfair—and my own fault for being a pushover.
“Sheri, I’m tired. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
She glared at me as she fiddled with my hair.
“Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes. You’re going.” She patted my cheek. “I’m ovulating. I need to get dicked.”
“Why do I have to come with you when you’re going to drop me as soon as you find someone?”
“I can’t go there alone. That would give out desperate vibes.”
“Because dragging your nervy gay roommate with you is cool as hell?”
“I’m introducing you to the scene. Showing you the ropes. I’m cool.”
“I don’t want to be shown any ropes,” I muttered.
“Stop whining. You promised, Eddie.”
I did promise her, and I deeply regretted it.
“And change into the shimmery top I gave you. Not only do you look hot in it, but I need to make it obvious you’re not my date.”
“Eddie can dress as butch as he wants,” Aaron quipped from behind his computer. “Nobody will ever mistake him for a straight man.”
“Shut up,” Sheri told him.
Aaron was right, but I wore the skintight purple top anyway. Like I said: pushover.
“This is gloomy as hell,” I hissed.
My friend laughed. “It’s atmospheric. Loosen up.”
The long, assessing look the towering bouncer had given me by the entrance still unnerved me. The club decor only added to my unease: dark-red curtains, black velvet wallpaper, and candlelight… Very gothic, all of it.
“Why does it look like a horror movie set? I thought the vampiric community was trying to move away from those stereotypes.”
“I like it. What do you want to drink?”
