Confetti, Cake & Confessions by K.C. Wells

Author:K.C. Wells [Wells, K.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: MM Fiction
Publisher: Island Tales Press
Published: 2014-09-29T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Saturday night

“This is great, son.” His dad was beaming as he gawked at the strip club. “And I have to make a confession: I’ve never been to a strip club before.”

Marc gaped. “Really?”

His dad nodded. “Well, think about it. I met your mum when we were teenagers. When would I have gone to a strip club while she was alive? And the two years after her death until I met Marie, I was basically a hermit. The only reason I went out with her was that a mate insisted I go with him on a double date, and he bloody well kept nagging at me until I agreed.” He grinned. “Little did I know, eh?”

Marc laughed. “Glad you approve.” The club was packed, the air buzzing with the sound of music and chatter. There were about twenty of his dad’s friends at the club, most of whom were at the stage, ogling the dancers. He grinned. “So have you had your lapdance yet?” Part of the deal for the evening was his dad got a free lapdance.

Dad wiped his brow. “God, son, I haven’t worked up the nerve yet to choose a dancer. I mean, a lapdance?” His eyes gleamed. “If Marie finds out…”

“Well, I won’t tell Mum if you won’t.” Tony appeared at Marc’s side, a glass in his hand. He grinned. “And it is your stag night, after all.” His attention kept wandering around the club.

“You like it here?” Dad asked him.

Tony shrugged. “It’s okay.” His eyes met Marc’s for the briefest of moments, enough to make Marc’s heart beat faster.

His dad guffawed. “Playing it cool, are we, Tony?” He winked. “I like it.” His gaze flicked down to Tony’s glass. “So now you’re eighteen, what are you drinking?”

Tony held up his glass. “Sorry, it’s just Coke. I thought I’d better keep a clear head, seeing as I’m supposed to be one of the two people keeping an eye on you tonight.” Once again his eyes met Marc’s before returning to his dad. “You having a good time?”

“Aw, mate, I’m having a great time.” Dad put his arms around Tony and Marc, and hugged them. “Thanks, lads, you did me proud.” He regarded them fondly. “My sons.”

It was one remark too far for Marc. He freed himself from his dad’s embrace and smiled. “I’m going to circulate and make sure everyone’s happy.” He glanced briefly in Tony’s direction before walking toward the stage where the majority of the men had congregated. A new dancer had emerged from backstage and had taken up position, just about to launch into her routine. Marc paid her no mind. He peered at the men who were watching her performance. Everyone had a drink and all their faces were wreathed in smiles.

“Sorry, but she does nothing for me.”

Marc gave a start and turned to gaze at the speaker, Neil, according to his name badge. “Sorry,” Marc apologized, and then he peered closer. There was something very familiar about him. He was tall, lean, his chin dark with a scruff of a beard, and pale blue eyes.

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