Kade turned and left the room before I could say anything. Not that it would have mattered anyway, because I was stunned into a petrified, crystalline silence. I watched down the hallway as Kade put on his boots and nodded at me before heading out the front door.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Already, my morning was a swirling tornado of chaos. It had been hard to even look Kade in the eyes because last night, after going back to my room, all I could think about was how I wished I could stay out there with him. Sleep with him. Have him touch me again, so good that I’d moan, and my cock would get hard, and maybe, just maybe, he’d reach lower and wrap his hand around me… and then maybe wrap his lips around me….

It was all I could think, and I couldn’t sleep at all. My cock had gotten hard as I thought about it, but I refused to touch myself, refused to make myself come while Kade lay in the next room.

I felt dirty, rotten, and filthy. But every time I started to fall asleep, my mind would drift to him again, and a little bit of precum would leak out of me. Once I was asleep, I had a vivid dream that Kade walked into my room, snuck under the covers, sucked me until I couldn’t take it anymore, and then pushed inside me until both of us came.

It was lurid and awful and amazing, and I woke up to him and Terry bursting into my room, and I’d felt deeper layers of guilt than I’d ever thought possible.

So when Kade had offered to continue the coaching tonight, I knew I needed it. I needed the coaching sessions to start working. I needed to just become someone confident, so that I could meet a guy—any guy who wasn’t Kade.

But when he’d said he wanted to push me, I thought he meant push me with his usual million questions or make me do some sort of mental exercise that was a little more intense.

But instead, now, I had to go to a party. And I couldn’t say no, lest I end up stewing alone at home in even more shame and guilt than before.

I had a few rules with parties: I only went to ones that were work-related, family-related, or fundraisers.

I had seen the kind of bar that Kade liked to hang out in, and I shuddered to imagine what kind of party he would attend. I turned to look at my reflection in the full-length mirror on my door, trying to see myself through someone else’s eyes. Did I seem like someone who would show up at a party with Kade Thompson?

Something had to change. The glasses would stay because no amount of social shame was worse than the feeling of sticking my fingers in my eyes for contacts. But the rest of my outfit was fair game. After a long, hard look at myself, I decided I needed to do something that I thought only existed in movies.

I needed a makeover.

Ten hours later, I had taken a train ride downtown to meet Kade. I’d checked the address he sent me five times as I approached the building—this place looked nothing like where I’d been expecting Kade to take me. The building wasn’t quite a skyscraper, but it was as close to it as could be: tall, modern, with glass windows and balconies on every side. I stood staring up at it, waiting on the sidewalk for Kade.

“Excuse me, sir,” I heard from behind me, and I turned and said hello to Kade. He looked past me, then back to me, and then did a double take again.

“What—Mason?” he said, looking me up and down, his jaw dropping. “Wait, where did you get these?”

He gestured down at my pants, and I shuffled from side to side, trying to break them in.

“They’re new, and they’re really tight,” I said, looking down at the dark denim jeans.

“I know that brand. Those aren’t cheap. They look fucking amazing on you, Mason. And your jacket—did you get all this today?”

“I walked into one of the shops near me and told them to make me look good,” I said.

Kade cocked his head to one side, smiling at me. “You always looked good,” he said. “But it is nice to see you in clothes that fit well. You look fantastic.”

“I figured if I’m going to the kind of party you’d go to… I better look nice,” I said. “What is this place?”

Kade looked up at the building, seemingly as bewildered as I was. “This is the place where my friends Tom and Camilla decided to get their new condo. Camilla has been a successful model for years, and she also just inherited a windfall, and… this is their housewarming party.”

“Model? Like… model model?”

“She’s a fashion model, yes,” Kade said, grinning a little. “You’ll meet her soon enough, Mason. We can head up, if you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” I said. “But it is cold out here. Let’s get this over with.”

“Hey,” Kade said, looking down at me. “Remember what I said. Use your strengths. If you go in thinking you just want to ‘get it over with’... you’re setting yourself up to fail.”

I swallowed, nodding. “You’re right. I am… a confident person, who cares about other people and their lives.”

“Fuck yes, Mason,” Kade said.

“Oh God, it’s all lies—I’m not really confident,” I said, frantic.

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘fake it till you make it?’” Kade asked.

“Yeah. I’ve always hated that phrase.”

He laughed, putting one hand on my shoulder. “Well, you can hate it all you want, but it’s sometimes true. Pretend you’re confident, act as if you are, and you never know how comfortable you might become.”

I nodded, pulling in a deep breath as we entered the building. It was just as beautifully modern inside as it was outside, and soon we were heading up a glass elevator to the thirtieth floor. We walked down the hall to the door at the end, and already I could hear loud music and tons of chatter from inside.

“Is the party already going?” I asked, a fresh anxiety welling up in me.

“Well, yes,” Kade said.

“I thought you said it started now. I thought we were on time.”

Kade shook his head. “You can’t be exactly on time for these kinds of things. You’ve got to be fashionably late.”

“Oh my God,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “We haven’t even gone inside, and already you’re going to give me an aneurysm. Are you sure they won’t find it rude?”

“Mason, I’ve been to more parties than you could probably imagine. This is on the early side for me.”

“Well, whatever you say,” I replied. “You’re the expert. I’m just a terrified nerd.”

“I’m gonna be right by your side,” Kade said before he opened the door. “You’re going to do great.”

We entered, and instantly I thanked God that I hadn’t come to the party in my usual khakis. Kade hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it was being held by a supermodel—gazelle-like women filled the room, cocktail glasses in their hands. The music was loud, but I didn’t hate it. It wasn’t brash rock but instead some form of Latin dance music. Strings of tiny, classy Christmas lights had been strung above, hanging from the thick wooden beams on the ceiling. The apartment was crowded, but every wall was floor-to-ceiling windows, and beneath us, Mistview Heights glittered in the night.

“Kade! My boy!” a man said as we made our way in, and he ran up to tackle Kade in a hug. “I thought you weren’t going to make it. I’m so glad.”

“Tom, I’d like you to meet Mason Hartley. Mason, this is Tom, one of my good friends.”

I shook Tom’s hand.

“So, how did you two meet?” I asked, trying to strike up any conversation I could. With Kade standing right next to me, I felt like I had something to prove—I wanted to show him that I was trying, that I was going to ask people about things besides the weather.

Tom grinned, looking over to Kade and back to me. “At Cuffs and Feathers, years and years ago. Kade was so young.”

“Cuffs and Feathers?” I asked.

“You haven’t been? I figured you were part of the scene,” Tom said.

“No, he is not,” Kade interjected. “Mason’s a client of mine, Tom. So be nice.”

“Oh, I see,” Tom said, his expression changing completely. “Welcome, welcome. We’ve got plenty of drinks over at the minibar, and if you’re peckish, there are more finger foods than you’d ever want. Camilla went a little nuts with the appetizers.”

A woman nearby turned around, furrowing her brow at Tom. “I did not,” she said, stepping over and joining us.

“Mason, this is Camilla, Tom’s wife. This is Mason, my newest client.”

“So nice to meet you!” she said, reaching out to shake my hand. To say I was intimidated by her would be an understatement—she was a good few inches taller than me, and she was wearing chunky heels. Her tight white dress cut off right at the top of her thighs, and she had a mini Santa hat on. She was so beautiful it almost felt unreal to be in her presence.

“Uh—hi,” I said, forcing a smile. “Your place is beautiful. Th-thank you for having me.”

“Of course!” she chirped, smiling wide. “And forget what Tom was saying. You’ve got to try the mini quiche, and the ginger cakes are to die for. There is a caterer going around with raspberry ginger tarts, too.”

“I love raspberries,” I said. “And ginger.”

“Well then, that’s perfect,” she said with a laugh.

There was a beat of silence, and I knew that I wanted to try to ask a question. I racked my brain, but I kept being distracted by the conversations and chatter around me, and the music, and how intimidating Tom and Camilla were.

But at the last moment, I glimpsed the glass in Camilla’s hand and pulled out a question.

“What cocktails would you recommend?” I asked.

“Oh, my gosh, there is a special holiday drink that the bartender’s mixing up called the Naughty Elf. It tastes like gingerbread, and it’s incredible. Come on, let’s go get you one, sweetie.”

I blushed a little as she took my hand, and I looked back to Kade, who gave me the smallest nod and smile. Camilla whisked me off toward the bar, and in another minute, I had my Naughty Elf drink.

“Jesus,” I said after my first sip. “This… this might be one of the best cocktails I’ve ever had.”

“I know, right?” she responded. “I don’t even want to know how much sugar is in it, but it’s perfect.”

I remembered a tactic Kade had told me, at some point last night: when talking about a topic, try to free-associate to ask about something similar.

“What’s the best cocktail you’ve ever had in your life?” I asked. I worried for a moment that it was a stupid question, but immediately, Camilla’s eyes lit up. “Oh, man. Once, Tom and Kade and I got into this super fancy cocktail lounge. Kade had some friend-of-a-friend who knew the owner, and they let us in even though we weren’t celebrities. But they served this incredible, house-distilled gin and mixed it with elderflower liqueur, candied orange rind, and some other green spirit… Mason, I damn near came when I tasted it.”

“Oh!” I said, feeling my cheeks grow hot as she laughed.

“You are just the cutest thing, aren’t you?” she said. “Let me introduce you to my friends—Erica!” she called, out to a woman across the room, dragging me along with her toward the living room, where we sat down on a long, ivory leather couch.

And for the next half hour, I was swept into a seemingly never-ending vortex of Camilla and Tom’s friends. People mingled all around me, but no matter how many people flitted away, new ones always came. I stayed in the same place on the long couch, trying my best to stay afloat in the winding conversations. Camilla may very well have been the most social person I’d ever met, and I watched as she navigated topics and people flawlessly. She joked, she teased, but at the root of it, she was always kind and inclusive, and everyone was smiling and laughing when talking with her.

It was amazing to witness. But with every passing minute, I felt more and more energy being drained from me. It was like a battery being exhausted, slowly and steadily, and though I tried to keep up with my conversation-starter questions with each new person, after a while, I was running on fumes.

When yet another couple came over and joined, Camilla introduced them to me.

“This is Jamie and Amber,” she said, and I shook both of their hands. I knew that my palms were getting clammy, but I couldn’t help it.

And then my death knell came. Tom came over and grabbed Camilla, whisking her away to go look at something in the kitchen. I was left alone on the couch with Jamie and Amber, and while I may have been able to handle that at the beginning of the night, my stamina was now running very low.

Plus, Jamie and Amber didn’t look anywhere near as nice as some of the other people did. Amber was inspecting her nails, and Jamie’s lips were pursed as he watched me, waiting for me to say something.

“Ah—hi there,” I said, my mind feeling like mush. “So… did you guys, ah—did you catch that snowstorm last night?”

Shoot. Don’t mention the weather. I’d already screwed something up.

Jamie cocked his head to the side, smiling strangely. “Did we… catch it?” he asked with a laugh. “Like, catching a ball?”

I cleared my throat, pretending to laugh. “Ah. No, I guess I just meant—did you see it.”

“Kinda hard to miss a foot of snow, isn’t it?” Amber said, and she and Jamie looked at one another and laughed.

I swallowed. “Right,” I said, nodding. “I—I guess you can’t miss it,” I said.

I was crashing and burning, and Camilla had only been gone for a minute.

“So, have you guys tried this Christmas cocktail? I swear it’d one of the best ones I’ve had.”

Jamie shook his head. “We’re wine drinkers. Don’t really go for the frou-frou cocktails. Too sweet.”

I nodded. “I understand. I usually am a wine drinker myself. White wine, at least.”

Jamie pulled out his phone and started tapping away at it without responding to me. I felt myself deflating completely. I’d made so much progress tonight—or so I thought—but now I was back at square one, completely unable to figure out why these people seemed to hate me.

“Everybody!” Camilla yelled from the other side of the room. “Guess what time it is? Karaoke!”

Various people in the room erupted into cheers, but for me, that was the final straw. Karaoke was my nemesis, and I quite literally couldn’t imagine anything worse than having to sing in front of a whole room of people. I was pretty sure I’d rather have my arm cut off.

“Um, excuse me—I’m just going to grab another cocktail,” I said, getting up quickly and heading back over to the bar. I ordered another Naughty Elf and took a deep breath, scanning the room.

I couldn’t find Kade anywhere. The whole apartment was an open floor plan, so I could see the kitchen, living room, and the area where people were dancing in the corner. But Kade didn’t seem to be there.

“Oh hey, you,” a young man said from behind me, running his hand down my back. I flinched instinctively and turned around, recognizing him as one of the people Camila had briefly introduced. He had white-blond hair and lots of piercings in his ears.

“Um—hi—” I choked out.

“You’re kinda sexy, aren’t you,” he said, leering at me, and I caught a whiff of vodka on his breath.

“Wh—what?”

“Sexy. You’re Kade’s hot new little twink, aren’t you? Kade sure does snag the cuties, doesn’t he?” he rested an arm on my shoulder and then swayed a little bit, pushing hard against me.

“Oh my gosh,” I said, pushing him back up and away from me. “I’ve gotta go, sorry,” I managed to say before nearly running away from him.

I was a person who was pretty familiar with true panic, so I wouldn’t say that I was panicking in that moment. But whatever I felt was pretty close. I was in a fancy apartment surrounded by a bunch of supermodels and people I didn’t know, and it was as close to torture as I could imagine.

After scanning the room one more time and not finding Kade, I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and made my way to the back of the apartment, where there was a tall glass door to the balcony. I pushed the door open, cold air rushing in, and I gently shut it behind me.

It truly was frigid outside, and the only other person out there was an older man finishing up smoking a cigarette. He nodded once at me.

“Too damn cold out here,” he said with a smile, and then he disappeared inside.

And then finally, mercifully, I was alone. It felt too good for me to care that it was freezing out, and I walked down the long balcony, looking out at the city below. It was a truly incredible view, but as I slumped down onto a bench at the end of the deck, I could barely appreciate the view.

All I could think about was how uncomfortable it had been inside. I took a sip of my drink, breathing deep, watching my breath dissipate in the air.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do not cry. I repeated the words to myself over and over again. It felt like I was trying to hold back a flood with a flimsy piece of plastic.

It had been a mistake to come to this party.

And maybe it had been a mistake to attempt confidence coaching at all.