Carol Lynne

Eyeing himself critically in the mirror, Joey adjusted the fit of his new low-rise jeans. Who was he trying to kid? He knew he couldn’t pull this look off. He was a short, skinny, twenty-four-year old closeted head case.

Yeah, he’d come over a hundred miles to Tulsa just to go to Club Maverick, but was he ready? Taking a deep breath, he put his room key, money and ID in his small vest pocket.

With one last look, Joey smiled as the small gold hoop in his right nipple caught the overhead bathroom light. He’d originally planned on getting them both pierced, but the first one hurt so much that he’d backed out of the second one. “If people back home could see me now,” he said with a chuckle and shake of his head.

Standing in front of the big red door of Club Maverick, Joey almost turned back. Maybe he should have brought a friend? Who would he have brought? He didn’t have many friends, just a few coworkers he occasionally went out for a drink with and his best friend, April. He doubted even April would go to a gay bar with him, although she was the only one who knew of his sexuality.

He grasped the cold metal handle. “It’s now or never,” he whispered to the full summer moon. Opening the door he was greeted by an old Brooks and Dunn song.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Joey walked towards the bar. He passed the pool tables and couldn’t help but notice the attention his clothes were garnering. Maybe he didn’t look like such a fool after all. Several guys were wearing similar versions of the same outfit.

Sliding onto an available stool, he waited for one of the three bartenders to notice him. They were all handsome men, but one in particular caught his eye. He’d always had a thing for tall, dark-haired men. This one in particular looked like a reoccurring wet dream.

Geeze, the guy had to be well over six feet tall with shoulders as wide as a barn. The bar man in question turned and caught Joey’s gaze. He held up a finger indicating he’d be right over.

Joey watched the guy’s black curly hair shine in the overhead lights as he bent to unhook an empty keg of beer. Walking towards the end of the bar, the huge mountain of a man hoisted a new keg above his head, and the heads of his fellow bartenders.

Damn. Joey’s mouth watered at the bulging muscles encased in a tight black T-shirt. He stopped on his way past the other bartenders and spoke to both of them briefly before carrying the heavy keg over to hook it up.

When the guy bent over, Joey couldn’t help but to zero in on his ass. The soft denim stretched in all the right places. For a broad shouldered man, Mr. Gorgeous had a surprisingly small backside.

Finished hooking up the new keg, the bartender stood and turned around. He walked straight over and leaned against the bar. “Can I help you?” he asked over the loud music.

“Uh, yeah. I’d like a shot of tequila.” He was mesmerised by the eyes staring into him. Gold, the man’s eyes were gold, like those of a lion.

“I’ll need to see some ID.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Joey dug his driver’s license out of his vest pocket. When he did, his room card fell out and onto the bar.

The bartender picked up the card and held out his hand for Joey’s license. One black eyebrow shot up as he read the date of birth. “You’re twenty-four?” He grinned and handed the license back to Joey. “I would’ve guessed eighteen or nineteen.”

Joey felt himself blush. “It’s my size. It throws people off all the time.”

“Welcome to Tulsa, Joseph. I’m Curt.” He fiddled with Joey’s room card for several moments and then handed it back.

“Nice to meet you, Curt. You can call me Joey.”