by Max Monroe
“Come on up here, honey!” Duchess purred. “It’s not every day we get a man like you inside our little establishment!”
I looked at Leo, and he looked at me.
“I think I’ve been outed,” he whispered through a chuckle, and a relieved giggle escaped my lips.
“It appears that way,” I whispered back. “And sorry to break this to you, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to leave unless you get onstage.”
“Fucking hell.” He chuckled again.
It didn’t take long before everyone inside Drag started chanting his name and, eventually, with a slightly embarrassed grin stretched across his lips, Leo stood up and headed toward the front of the room.
The instant he stepped onto the stage beside Duchess, the whole damn crowd started hooting and hollering crazy shit toward him.
“Flex your muscles!”
“Dance with Duchess!”
And my personal favorite, “Take off your pants!”
Well, mostly because it came from my slightly boozed-up lips, but same difference, right?
“It appears you’re quite the hot commodity,” Duchess purred into the mic, and Leo ran a hand through his hair on a laugh. “What brings you here tonight, sugar?”
He pointed one index finger toward me. “That pretty lady right there.”
Duchess squinted her eyes as she took in my appearance and then tsked under her breath. “And here I thought I might be the one who gets to take you home tonight. Now I’m not so sure I can compete with Ms. Down Home Bombshell over there.”
He could only laugh in response.
The queen sighed dramatically at the crowd before bringing her gaze back to Leo. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.” He shook his head and then grinned wickedly. “Well, at least, not yet.”
Not yet?
My heart started pounding inside my chest at his words.
Not yet, as in he saw it as an actual possibility?
Not yet, as in he wanted me to be his girlfriend?
I was equal parts excited and scared.
Let’s not get too carried away here, Gem, I mentally coached myself. The man is onstage with a drag queen dressed up as Cher, for fuck’s sake. Just take a breath and don’t read too much into shit.
“Not yet?” Duchess tilted her head to the side and searched Leo’s gaze. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“This is our first date.”
“And she brought your ass to a drag show?”
He smirked. “Yeah.”
“Good for you, honey!” Duchess called toward me. “But you’re going to have to shut your eyes for a bit, because the other queens and I have some business with your man here. You don’t mind if we play with him for a bit, do ya, sugar?”
Leo’s eyes went wide and locked with mine, but I simply shook my head on a laugh.
“He’s all yours!”
Duchess grinned like the cat who ate the canary, while Leo shot a playful glare in my direction. But he didn’t have much time to plan an escape route because three queens strutted onto the stage and pushed his fine ass into the lone chair sitting in the center.
“Just sit back and relax, sugar,” Duchess purred into the mic while the opening beats of “Whatta Man” started to play through the speakers. “We’re going to take real good care of you.”
Leo’s eyes went even wider as the drag queens started to shower him with all sorts of attention, and by the time they were a good minute into the song, I had to put a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggles.
“Hold up! Hold up!” Asia shouted over the music as she made a slicing hand across her throat. “Stop the music for a second!” she exclaimed. “This isn’t working. We need some backup to really bring this performance on home.”
Duchess put a hand to her hip. “Backup?”
“Oh yes, sister.” Asia winked. “And I know just the person.” Before I could comprehend what was happening, she pointed her red-painted fingernail out into the crowd and what felt like directly at me.
Surely, I’m just seeing shit, right?
I looked around the room and then back at the stage.
“Get up here, honey!” Asia exclaimed, and my eyes went wide. “That’s right, sista,” she added with an amused smile. “We’re talking about you.”
Wait…whaaaaat?
“Seriously?” I mouthed with a hand to my chest, and she nodded.
“Get your cute ass up here and sing the hook!”
Well, fuck.
With the crowd now hooting and hollering for me to join Leo onstage and two queens taunting me to get off my ass, I did the only thing I could do in that situation.
I downed what was left of my martini and said fuck it. When queens demanded you get onstage and sing, you fucking got onstage and you sang.
So, that was exactly what I did.
I swallowed my nerves and walked through the crowd and toward the front of the room.
Leo grinned up at me as I took a mic from a stagehand and stepped onstage.
“Okay, honey, just to make sure we’re on the same page, we’re going to have to hear a few notes from you,” Asia said once I stood beside her and Duchess. “We gotta make this good, and trust me, sugar, no one wants to hear some cat-screeching bullshit, okay?”
I giggled and blushed a little. “Okay…uh… What do you want me to sing?”
Both queens smiled deviously. “Sing the hook for us.”
I had a feeling they were calling my bluff, that I was most likely called up onstage to be some sort of comic relief, but I simply shrugged it off and cleared my throat in preparation.
Once the DJ started playing “Whatta Man” again, I put my best En Vogue foot forward and sang the opening chorus, or the hook, as Asia called it.
I’d barely gotten through the first few lines before the DJ shut off the music at Asia’s request.
“Oh, honey!” Duchess exclaimed and snapped her fingers in the air. “You done did it, girl!”
“This bitch can sing, queens!” Asia shouted toward the crowd. “She can really fucking sing!”
And Leo, well, he looked up at me from his spot in the chair with the biggest smile I’d ever seen in my life.
The damn thing went straight to my fucking brain.
High off his smile and high off doing what I loved most, I stood on that stage for the next five or so minutes with a bunch of beautiful drag queens and sang my lungs out while they grinded and danced all over Leo.
And hell if it wasn’t a damn good time.
Touché, Abby. Tou-fucking-ché.
Streetlights and the beams of passing vehicles filled my vision as I drove back toward Gemma’s apartment, and fuck, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face if I tried.
Her voice danced in my ears as she chattered on about Asia and Duchess and the thrill of the stage.
I could hear the melodic quality of it so much more easily now, and the lull of it during a bout of excitement was particularly enticing.
She’d beyond killed it up there, damn near brought the crowd and the queens of Drag to their fucking knees, and I was like a proud boyfriend already.
From zero to one hundred in less than a second, this adorable fucking creature had not only stolen my attention, but with sniper-like precision appeared to be going straight for my heart as well.
“I can’t believe she took off her wig at the end and put it on my head.” Gemma smiled at me, and my chest expanded. “I mean, I thought the hair, the makeup, all of that stuff was like sacred or something.”
“It is. But you were a queen up there, and her wig was the best she could do in the way of a crown,” I said with a laugh.
She giggled and playfully shoved my shoulder, and it was safe to say we were miles away from the awkward, quiet mess we’d been on the way to Drag a few hours ago.
Apparently, her friend Abby who’d recommended the spot knew a thing or two about loosening Gemma up.
And fuck, it had worked like
a charm.
Right before my very eyes, I’d had the pleasure of watching Gemma blossom and bloom into a comfortable ease. She’d let down her guard, and I’d been entranced by each facet of her delightful, quirky personality that she’d revealed to me.
To say she was something special was putting it mildly.
This girl, my mystery girl, was unlike anyone I’d ever met.
“So, I have to ask,” I said and smirked at her out of my periphery. “Where in the hell have you been hiding that voice?”
She blushed at the compliment but quickly transferred any embarrassment to cute and sassy attitude.
“What? Like I’ve had so many opportunities to show it off for you?” She laughed. “This is our first date, in case you’ve forgotten, and our encounters before this included spilled pee and your aunt Alma.”
“I’m surprised Alma hasn’t built a stage in her house for you. She’s a real pusher.”
She scoffed. “I’m not that good. And she doesn’t know. It’s not like I spend my days singing for her.”
“Well, you should,” I said, and she rolled her eyes. “Hell, you should be singing for anyone within a one-thousand-mile radius, Gem. Your gorgeous fucking voice should be serenading me through the goddamn radio,” I added seriously, but she just brushed it off.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her soft laugh was dubious. “I mean, I know I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing, but I’m pretty damn certain I’m not star material.”
I completely disagreed. She had the voice and she had the look in spades, but I didn’t see much point in arguing about it with her.
Instead, I asked another question piqued by her uncertainty. “Why don’t you know what you’re supposed to be doing? You mean, career-wise?”
“Yep.” She nodded. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“You’re not interested in doing anything specific?”
She shook her head. “I was in school…well, I was almost done with school.” She chuckled self-consciously. “I almost had my degree. The one in engineering my whole family expected me to get.”
“Engineering wasn’t for you?”
“Uh…no. I realized I wasn’t happy. Like, at all. And as I pictured myself getting closer and closer to graduation—and the job I’d be expected to get—it all started to seem terrible. I mean…doing something I hate for the rest of my life? No thanks.”
“I can understand that,” I said, and I could. “Your family doesn’t?”
She shrugged. “It’s not what they planned.”
I nodded silently, wondering what it would have been like if my family hadn’t been supportive of my career.
Hell, they definitely could have snubbed it. It wasn’t like the dream of playing professional football was one without risk. Most people with that goal never made it.
As if she read my mind, she turned the conversation on me.
“What about you? Have you always wanted to play football?”
“Definitely.” I nodded and smiled. “I’ve been into it since I was a kid. Bonus was that I turned out to be pretty good at it. Passion is great, but I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without a little luck.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure you worked hard.”
“Every day. Conditioning, training. I made sure I had the best shot possible.”
She sighed. “I wish I had that kind of drive.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said easily. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right thing yet.”
“I guess not,” she said and picked at an invisible piece of lint from her blouse. “That’s why I took the temp job. I figured something would spark my interest at some point.”
“So being a medical tech wasn’t your dream job?”
“Not quite.” Her laughter was music to my ears.
“Thank God. I’d feel really bad about costing you it if it had been.”
“That wasn’t your fault. I dropped it.”
“I bobbled the handoff,” I said easily, and she just giggled.
“Trust me, Leo, that whole fiasco was my fault, not yours.”
Pulling up in front of her apartment, I shut off the engine, hopped out of the car, and rounded the hood before helping Gemma out of the passenger side.
Quietly, we walked hand in hand toward her apartment building, and when we stopped just beneath the awning covering the front entrance, her gaze locked with mine, and once again, her face bloomed into a breathtaking blush.
Fuck, I loved that blush of hers.
“I’ve gotta be honest, Gemma…” I paused, and her throat bobbed a bit as she swallowed nervously.
“Yeah?”
“Tonight was probably the best date I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I confirmed, easing forward slightly to prepare to make my move. “There’s just one thing that will ensure it holds that title forever.”
“What?” she asked softly.
“This.”
Smooth but swift, I leaned toward her, sank a hand into her beautiful hair, and sealed my lips to hers. She gasped in surprise, and I took the opportunity to slide my tongue inside.
Sweet melons and martinis, she tasted the best of anything I’d ever consumed in my entire life, and I dove deeper. I took more of her mouth as her body melted into the kiss, and I twisted some of her hair around my fingers.
God, she felt good. Tasted good. Everything that revolved around Gemma was good, even when it came to how she made me feel.
And I wanted more. Fuck, did I want more.
But for some insane reason, I didn’t want to rush this. I didn’t want to screw anything up when it came to her. I wanted to take my time, even if it meant leaving her apartment with a throbbing case of blue balls.
We danced and pushed with our tongues a bit longer, and just before I crossed the point of no return, I placed one final kiss to her perfect lips and pulled away.
I watched the way her pretty little lashes moved downward with each blink, and when her blue gaze locked with mine again, the responding smile that teased across her lips had my head spinning from the beauty and buzz of it all.
I didn’t want to leave her, but I didn’t want to do something rash because my dick demanded instant gratification.
“I’ll call you,” I said simply. Complex words weren’t possible.
She nodded, and I smiled at the thought that maybe, for her, words weren’t possible at all.
“Goodnight, Gemma.”
“Goodnight, Leo.”
I’ll see you soon.
I was high as a kite once I stepped inside my apartment.
With the door a silent click behind me, I rested my back against the wall, and the girliest little sigh left my lungs.
Leo kissed me.
He. Kissed. Me.
And, holy leprechauns, it was a “Lucky Charms in kiss form” kind of magically delicious kiss.
That kiss started out with a gentle press of Leo’s lips to mine, but it hadn’t ended there.
No way, Jose. That sucker traveled straight into my chest, down to my belly, and landed in my fucking toes.
I felt like Meg Ryan and Julia Roberts and Reese Witherspoon and Kate Winslet all wrapped up into one real-life, swoony as fuck, this feels like a fucking movie kind of moment.
That kiss made my eyes cross and my foot pop up as if it’d been yanked by a marionette’s string.
I was still dizzy just thinking about it.
What a glorious fucking night.
I sighed into the silence of my apartment, and to my surprise, Abby didn’t pop up from the couch to scare the ever-living crap out of me.
“Abby?” I called out, but even after a few seconds, got nothing in return.
It seemed as though my pseudo-roommate was MIA for the evening.
For the first time in a long time, I was kind of disappointed by that reality.
I needed to gab and recount the night’s events. I needed to tell someone about my drag show si
nging escapades. I needed to make puppy eyes over the memories of Leo. And I needed to turn into a real-life heart eyes emoji as I told someone, any-fucking-one, about that kiss.
But it seemed the only company I had for the rest of the night was me, myself, and I.
Accepting my silent fate, I pushed myself off the wall and headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Surely, I could fill the duration of my evening with funny pet videos on Instagram before sleep took over.
I did the normal nightly routine—wash my face, brush my teeth, and pee—and by the time I crawled into my bed, my face was clear of makeup, my hair was tossed up into a messy bun, and my coziest pajamas cradled my body.
I had no idea how I would get any sleep with the way my brain was so damn fixated on everything that was Leo, but I was really hoping cute videos of furbabies would be enough to take my mind off of him so sleep would be an option.
Under the covers and well into my fourth video—this one, a sleepy golden retriever puppy dressed in duck pajamas—I couldn’t stop myself from replaying the evening in my head.
The drag show.
Leo’s smile.
Dinner.
Leo’s eyes.
Singing onstage.
Leo’s kiss.
And by the time I’d replayed the whole date a good five or six times in my head, I started to worry that maybe I was jumping the gun a bit. I mean, this wasn’t Joe Schmo working at the deli up the street I was thinking about here.
It was Leo Fucking Landry, a professional football god for the New York Mavericks.
He was insanely handsome, incredibly successful, and no doubt had millions of other girls vying for his attention.
And me? Well, I was a clumsy and quirky girl who had no real career prospects in sight.
I had no degree.
I quit college during my senior year.
And I was currently the girl who packed up his great-aunt’s sex toys.
Did those things equate to a match made in heaven? I wasn’t exactly convinced.
But I refused to be so flipping negative.
Leo said he’d call me. And, well, if he was truly interested, he’d call.
Other than that, it was out of my control.
Just focus on that alpaca with the hat on and stop worrying over it, Gem, I coached myself.