Page 22 of Full Service

“Seems you need to get out more and find something that inspires you.”

The only thing that seems to inspire me is Everly and his butt. But it’s not like I can tell Lee that. He’d never let me live it down. He’s a bit of a perverted old man when it comes to stuff like that. One time he told me I should snowball men more.

I don’t think he knew what snowballing meant. But then again, I just don’t know. The way he grinned at me told me he may have figured out how to work his phone and looked it up.

We chat some more as I sip on some tea. Lee finishes off his fries, lifting the paper underneath them and licking it clean, like a raccoon. Some paper peels off into his mouth and he actually swallows it. Jesus. But then again, who cares? I used to feel slightly embarrassed by the display he puts on when he does things like this, but now I just shrug it off.

Makes him happy. Who am I to judge?

At least Lee doesn’t lurk outside of a strip club and lightly stalk a student.

When it comes to creepy, I’m winning.

I should come with a warning sign.

After I drop him off, I tell myself to go home. Straight home. Crawl into bed and read a book, but my car drives me right to the strip club, and I find my eyes settled on the back entrance of the club, wishing that Everly would just stride out and take all choice away from me by sucking my dick into his mouth.

But of course, that’s the dream of a crazy person. It obviously doesn’t happen, but the urge to enter the establishment and lurk is making my skin itch.

I really should just go in. Sneak in and watch, see if he’s even performing tonight.

Fuck me. I’m lying to myself now. I know he’s on stage. I checked. I check every night. It’s a ritual.

Get home. Microwave dinner. Check if Everly’s working. Jerk off.

And now I’ve apparently added another thing to my schedule.

Stalking.

I’m a man of many talents.

I lean my forehead against the steering wheel and groan, my hand going between my legs and squeezing my dick. I will not get off here. I just did that at home. Somehow doing it in a dimly lit parking lot seems a lot more unhinged.

So I don’t. I will not.

Suddenly, a loud bang has me lifting my head up, and I see Everly stride out of the club, wearing a silk robe, his phone held up to his ear. He laughs loudly, a sound so endearing that I find myself shivering as I peek over my dashboard at him.

I should leave, but I’m worried he’ll notice if my headlights flick on.

So I just sit there, my hand on my crotch, my eyes blinking wildly as I watch him. He’s leaning up against the brick building and chatting happily. He hasn’t noticed me, thank fuck, because I really can’t explain this away.

But then my luck runs out. His eyes flick across the parking lot, and I see him freeze. Fuck. He’s seen me. I know it. Trying to scoot down as far as I can, I accidentally honk the horn with my arm and groan.

Way to not draw attention to myself. I try to sit down on the floor but end up stuck halfway between the steering wheel and the seat. My leg starts to cramp from the awkward way I’m sitting, and I realize that in the process of trying to hide, I turned the blinker on and the windshield wipers.

Seems I’m turning left in the rain at the moment, huffing a small laugh because it’s either that or cry.

Knock. Knock.

The tap on my window has me looking up bashfully.

And there he is, grinning down at me.

“Kill me now,” I murmur, trying to sit up but realizing I really am stuck. If he calls the fire department, I will run away and never come home again.

But mercifully, he doesn’t call for help. Instead, he opens the door and pushes the seat back as far as it can go, letting me extend my legs and clamber out of the car. As I do, I fall forward and his strong arms engulf me.

This is the closest I’ve ever been to him, besides the night of the lap dance. But this time my hands are on his strong chest and my face is smashed into his shoulder. I can smell the sweat of his skin, feel the frantic way he’s breathing.