“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, pushing Corey away.

“And it’s your birthday, isn’t it? Happy birthday, baby doll. Why, I remember what it was like when I turned twelve years old. Hopefully, you’ll get a big-boy bike this year.” He winks at me.

“I’m twenty,” I say, realizing I probably sound very ridiculous. “In a couple of days.”

“And now I feel officially ancient,” he sighs prettily. “Tell me I’m beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” we both intone.

“He needs to hear that every now and then,” Corey whispers to me loudly. “He’s thirty-one now, and it’s starting to show.”

“I heard that,” Sandy says, scowling at the both of us. “When you come into the bar for my show, I promise I am going to embarrass the crap out of both of you.”

“I’m not old enough,” I say.

“Darling,” Sandy says, “as long as you stick with me, you’ll be fine. I pretty much own that bar, and getting you in won’t be an issue. No drinking for you, though. You understand me? I wouldn’t want your first time in Tucson to be under the watchful guard of the Tucson Police Department. They’re not known for their hospitality.”

“I promise,” I say, weirdly giddy that I’m getting into a bar to see a drag show.

“And besides,” Corey says, “there’s a cop here who would just murder him if that should happen. It’s a love that’s rather unrequited.”

Sandy sits up on his couch, grinning evilly. “Unrequited? And a police officer? Oh my stars. You tell your Aunt Sandy all about him.”

My face is burning up, and I wonder very seriously if Corey would suffer much if I strangled him to death. It’d probably be easier to go with stabbing him. “There’s nothing to tell,” I mutter. “He’s been my friend since I was a kid. That’s it.”

“The fact that your face is now the color of a fire truck says otherwise,” Sandy says. He sounds tickled. “What’s his name?”

“Dominic,” Corey says in a singsong voice.

“Very manly,” Sandy says. “And he’s a cop?”

“You should see him in uniform,” Corey says. “It’s positively mouthwatering. He’s essentially a giant with muscles you just want to bite.”

That’s pretty much the truth, but I won’t give either of them the satisfaction. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Corey says. “Sandy, how’s Darren?”

Sandy scowls prettily. “That man,” he says. “I do believe he’s a waste of human existence. The nerve he has to even think he can talk to me the way he does. One of these days, I’m going to cut him down to size, the overgrown ignoramus.”

“Darren?” I tease. “The fact that your face is now the color of a fire hydrant says otherwise.”

“You need to respect your elders,” Sandy says, flint and steel in his eyes. “I’m not above putting a sassy little twinkie boy like yourself over my knee and giving you a proper education with the palm of my hand and my flogger. On stage. Bare-assed. In front of everyone.”