Page 31 of Spilled Coffee

“Hey, there’s plenty of great women at gay clubs, and I figure it’s less competition, right?”

Brick’s logic may have been skewed, but Ethan laughed. “Whatever you say.” He really wasn’t in the mood to go out, still feeling the sting of Logan’s anger despite their earlier intimacy.

“Good man. I’ll make a start on these while you make yourself all pretty.” Brick took another beer from the pack, then glanced over his shoulder. “Hey… is everythin’ cool between you and Logan now?”

“Yeah,” Ethan nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, we worked it all out.”

CHAPTER 16

The noise slammedinto Ethan like a shockwave as he and Brick shoved through the graffiti-tagged doors of Lucy’s.

It was the bass that hit him first, the deep, primal thud that punched through his chest, rattling his ribs and vibrating all the way down to his toes. It wasn’t just music, it was a physical force, alive and feral, pulling him under before he even had time to adjust.

The air inside was humid and suffocating, carrying the scents of expensive perfumes, too many people, and something else. Shouts and raucous laughter ricocheted off walls which were decorated with chaotic ‘street art’ each tag and spray-painted mural screaming for attention under the epileptic flashes of laser lights and spot beams.

Ethan squinted. His head swam from the beers they’d downed earlier, and he blinked hard as the dazzling lights cut through the haze, momentarily blinding him with bright bursts of white that left jagged images dancing in his vision. Neon streaks of fluorescent pink, dazzling yellow, and electric blue splashed across the crowd in erratic bursts, illuminating faces twisted in laughter or lost in the music.

It felt hyperreal—too loud, too bright, too much—and yet it sucked him in like a magnet.

Brick jabbed a finger toward the VIP Lounge at the back of the club, but Ethan could barely make out what he was saying over the roar of sound that seemed to swallow them whole.

“What?” he yelled, leaning in closer, as if that might help him decipher whatever his friend was shouting.

Brick turned, his face suddenly lit up by a strobe flash, grinning wide like he was in on some joke Ethan hadn’t caught yet. “V.I.P Lounge!” he yelled again, dragging out the syllables as though slowing them down would make them easier to hear.

Ethan nodded vaguely, not entirely sure where Brick was leading him, but willing to follow.

Brick weaved through the crush of bodies on the dance floor with an ease that said he’d done this many times before, and Ethan tried to keep up, but his balance wavered, and it felt like walking on a ship caught in rough seas.

The dance floor was like a mythical beast—a writhing sea of people packed so tightly together that no one had room to breathe, let alone move freely. Sweat glistened on bare skin under the flashing lights, pooling in collarbones and dripping down spines, soaking into crop tops and ripped tank tops alike.

The sour tang of perspiration and spilled liquor clung to Ethan’s nostrils.

Someone bumped into him—a guy who glittered from head to toe like he’d been dipped in sequins and stardust. His mesh shirt clung to his damp skin as he spun away without even glancing back. A second later, Ethan’s shoulder brushed against a woman with a buzz cut dyed vivid green; her leather jacket gleamed under the lights as she threw her head back and laughed at something her partner whispered into her ear.

She moved against the woman with extremely long, pink hair—that Ethan decided must be a wig—with an unyielding rhythm,her feet never missing a beat despite the maelstrom swirling around them.

“Keep up!” Brick hollered over his shoulder without looking back. His voice barely carried over the bassline that seemed to grow louder with every step closer to their destination.

“I’m trying!” Ethan shot back, though it came out slurred and was half-lost in the noise as he pushed through another knot of dancers—a large group screaming in unison to whatever remix was blaring from overhead speakers.

The energy was infectious but overwhelming—thrilling and suffocating all at once.

Ethan’s gaze darted around the labyrinth that was Lucy’s. Two men passionately making out against the wall instantly drew his attention, though they were oblivious to him… and the bartender pouring shots with one hand while tossing a shaker in the other, and a tall guy near the DJ booth throwing up his arms like some kind of self-appointed hype man.

Brick stopped at the entrance to a roped-off area, which glowed red under its softer lighting. The VIP Lounge. A bouncer stood guard at the entrance, his massive arms crossed over his equally massive chest, which was clad in black tactical gear that made him look more suited for a war zone than nightlife security.

Brick flashed something—maybe cash or maybe just his signature cocky grin—and within seconds of bumping fists they were waved through like royalty entering a castle.

Ethan followed on autopilot. Still reeling from sensory overload, he was unable to shake off the electric buzz crawling under his skin—either adrenaline or alcohol—or maybe both.

“You’re gonna love this,” Brick said once they were inside where things felt marginally quieter, though no less surreal.

Ethan wasn’t sure if “love” was exactly what he’d call it, but whatever lay ahead promised to be better than what he’d just left behind.

His chest tightened, the grip of emotion squeezing hard as Logan’s face flickered into his mind. Those sauna kisses—they weren’t just hot, they were unforgettable. And then what happened in the bedroom…Oh, God, the way Logan’s hands knew where to touch, how he pulled Ethan apart and put him back together all at once.

It wasn’t just lust, it was something deeper, something that now twisted in his gut like a knife.

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