Page 70 of Candy Hearts
Robin collapsed onto the barstool beside him and signaled to the bartender for a beer. She’d told him she’d be there to watch Wren get auctioned off. “Sorry I’m late. The club looks amazing.”
“It does.” His voice was tight. “I’m really proud of the crew here.”
“You should be proud of yourself. This is special.”
The Auction was themed Sweet and Sickening and had been advertised as a post-Valentine’s Day bash for sexy—and charitable-minded—singles.
The stage had white-and-purple-striped sashing around the edges, and the backdrop was Pepto-Bismol pink. Mixed in with the sugary colors were slashes of black and severe dark green—an incongruence that was oddly appealing. The lighting turned the whole dance floor an eerie cotton-candy blue and huge fake conversation hearts hung from the ceiling with phrases like “Swipe Left” and “Not Today, Satan” and “Suck My Tits.”
It had been his five-year plan to move into the queer-spaces market, and he was incredibly happy with this, his first venture, more so today than any other day.
“Thanks. I am proud.”
“So, you and Benji Holiday. What’s the deal there, stud?” Robin asked, her voice teasing. “Have you seen him since last weekend?”
“We went on a date, but I, and the universe, ruined it.” He rotated on his stool to face her. “He thinks he isn’t the type of person I want long term.”
A cheer went up from the crowd in reaction to activity on the stage, but they both ignored it.
Her brow furrowed. “Is he?”
“Yes. If he wants me.”
“Sounds like you’ve got to win him back, then.” Robin grinned and the club lights sparkled in her deep brown eyes. “What could you do? Oh, write him a poem.”
William laughed. “No.”
“A song?”
“No.”
“It needs to be something big.”
A bell dinged in his head. It did need to be something big. For Benji, it should be big. “You’re right.”
“He has brunch with his sisters once a week,” Robin said.
“Yes.” William nodded, on a roll. “I could show up there wearing pajamas, with a huge bouquet of roses that he’s just going to tear apart to scatter somewhere, and I could get up on the diner counter and—”
“Why pajamas?” Robin asked.
William couldn’t meet Robin’s eyes. “Benji liked me in pajamas. Pajamas are a great equalizer. Everyone looks ridiculous in them.”
Rosie covered her mouth with her hand. “You are so gone for him. I don’t think I realized. Oh, speak of the devil.”
William spun around, hoping to see Benji, only to find Sasha, Rosie, and Wren swimming through the crowd to sidle up to them. Wren immediately ordered shots when she reached the bar.
Wren had been one of the first bachelorians, and he hadn’t seen her since she’d stepped off the stage. She had evidently been partying it up with the Holiday sisters.
“Hi ladies,” he said. Then turning to Sasha, he asked, “Have you talked to Benji in the last few days?” Maybe he could mine her for information.
Sasha shook her head. “Not really. He didn’t want to come out with us tonight. Said he was busy, so we made it a girls’ night!”
Disappointment pummeled William. He’d been holding out hope that Benji would be here, but it seemed like avoidance was Benji’s plan instead.
“You defiled my baby brother,” Rosie said, slightly slurry but with an impish smile.
William’s mouth dropped. He hadn’t seen Rosie in over a year, but she was typically very reserved.
