Nolan had been to this club before. Twice. It was a gay and lesbian club and they required people to be twenty-one to enter. Thus Nolan came armed with a fake ID. The two times he’d gone before nothing had happened. He got some looks and even offers, but he had chickened out. Hell, he’d never even kissed a guy, let alone anything else. But that didn’t stop him from thinking about it constantly.
He’d dressed in his tightest jeans. They looked like they had been painted on his ass. Jeans he kept hidden from his father, of course. He’d also chosen a tight-fitting red T-shirt and cowboy boots. Nolan didn’t even like country music, but for some reason he thought the snakeskin boots were cool. He parked the Mustang at the far end of the sparsely lit lot and headed for the entrance of the club.
