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"Servers wear rubber-soled shoes, Jeremy."
He could tell that Xavier was getting frustrated, and Jeremy shrugged, his shirt pulling over his shoulders. "I ain't a server, friend. I'm a bouncer. I'm wearing my boots and my hat."
Benny and Ike were just staring at him, mouths open, and he gave them a sympathetic look. He wanted the job, and he liked the joint, but he wasn't no little mouse in slacks and aprons and shit. It just was how it was.
"You're sure you want to work here?"
"Yessir. I ain't scared of working, but I ain't gonna wear that uniform deal." Hell, he had his good boots on, his pressed jeans.
Xavier sighed, grinned. "It's good thing you're beautiful, man."
"It's a gift." He rolled his eyes, grinned back. "So when do I start?"
"Works for me. I need to pay rent. Y'all live high on the dollar." Shit, he could have a mansion back home for what he was paying here. A mansion, a decent place to park his truck, real music on the radio...
Why was he here again?
He looked at the sexual shit all over the stage. The whips. The cuffs. The leather. The hotness. Then there was school. The forge. And, again, the hotness. Yeah.
That was why.
Now he just needed to find someone strong enough to ride him like he needed. After his shift.