She mouths fuck.
I nod. Fuck is right.
"Guessing it didn't go well," she says.
"Not really," I whisper.
"You could have called."
"I know. I…"
"Wasn't ready to talk about it?"
"How do you know me so well?"
She laughs. "It's a curse."
The driver presses the door closed.
"Is this it?" Ryan asks.
"Penny and Frank are meeting us there." Dean laughs. "They probably want to fuck first. Or after. You're all gonna want to fuck after."
"He got this guilty look in his eyes then said he was sorry," I whisper.
"Does he know you're in love with him?" Iris asks.
I clear my throat. "I…"
She shoots me a get real.
"No. He doesn't."
She pushes me toward him. "Sit with your boyfriend."
I move to the bench next to Ryan. Shoot my best friend an I hate you glare.
She smiles back I love you too.
Walker whispers something in her ear.
She whispers back.
Then he's not quite whispering. I only catch the word come. But I'm sure it's dirty from the way she's blushing.
"I texted Kay to invite her. Since we're finally hitting an eighteen plus club. But she texted back something about not bothering her with my bullshit at work." Dean shrugs how ridiculous.
"Brendon's gonna deck you," Walker says.
"He still hasn't," Dean says.
"That's shocking." Ryan wraps his arm around my waist then stares at it like he's not sure how it got there.
Dean shakes his head. "I know. I need to up my game."
Kristen looks around the car confused.
Dean leans in to whisper something in her ear.
Her dark eyes light up.
They're dirty talking too.
The limo pulls onto the street.
I let my eyelids flutter together as I rest my head on Ryan's shoulder.
He says nothing as he draws lazy circles on my forearm.
It's a sweet, intimate gesture.
But I don't know what it means.
Bright white light bounces off a shiny pole. A woman's manicured hand wraps around the silver cylinder. Then it's the inside of her knee.
She spins until she's a blur of bare skin and lingerie.
The hip-hop song shifts to the next. She dismounts. Looks out to the crowd—there are a dozen people seated at the stage and another two dozen at tables and booths.
The crowd looks back. Claps and hoots as the woman in red unhooks her bra and drops it beneath her.
Dean motions to an empty table in the back. Cuts through the room as the dancer leaps onto the pole. Upside down. Her hair hangs off her head. Her boobs fall toward her face.
It's an awesome trick—she's upside freaking down—but it's weird watching her do it topless.
I follow Dean to the table. Ryan pulls out my chair for me. A gentleman even at a strip club. That's so Ryan. And this whole thing is so Dean.
The dancer dismounts, struts around the pole, grabs onto it and spins.
"This place is classier than I expected." Ryan sits next to me. "For you."
Dean chuckles. "I have exquisite taste."
Iris looks to me and raises a brow. "She is really acrobatic." She looks to the stage curiously.
Walker chuckles as he wraps his arms around her. "Getting ideas, sweetness?"
"Maybe." She slides onto his lap.
He pulls her closer. Presses his lips to her neck.
"Shit. We didn't have to come here. We've got a free show." Dean claps.
"You shouldn't upstage her." Ryan chuckles.
"What if we get her blessing?" Walker murmurs into Iris's neck.
She mumbles some sort of yes, please, don't stop.
"Fuck, we lost ‘em." Dean shakes his head. How wrong. His eyes light up as a blonde in a school girl outfit approaches us.
"Would you care for a dance?" She tugs at Dean's tie.
"Later. I'm waiting for the guest of honor." He shoots her a sweet smile.
She looks to the rest of us with invitation.
Kristen stares with curiosity.
Walker and Iris continue necking.
Ryan shakes his head no thanks.
Her eyes fix on me.
I clear my throat. "Maybe later."
She nods, spins on her Lucite heel, and leaves.
I scoot closer to Ryan. "It won't hurt my feelings if you want a lap dance."
His blue eyes narrow. "Think about everything you know about me and reconsider that statement."
"Most guys enjoy attractive women in their laps," I say.
Dean nods true that.
I roll my eyes.
"Am I most guys?" Ryan asks.
"No, but you are a man," I say.
"I don't hug people."
"Most people aren't naked women."
Ryan's nose scrunches with distaste. "Kristen's as cute as that dancer was."
She beams. "Thanks, Ryan. I think."
"Didn't hug her," he says.
She nods yeah, that is weird. She looks up at Dean isn't he weird?
Dean laughs. "You have no idea."
"But." I bite my lip. Where the hell am I going with this? Ryan doesn't like touching. I know that. Of course he doesn't want a lap dance from a stranger. But he… and I… and… "You hug me."
"You're my girlfriend." He plays into our ruse.
I don't. "But there's a reason—"
"It's different with you, Leigh."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"Damn," Dean interrupts. "Look who the cat dragged in." He waves to Boat Shoes and Penny as they walk past security.
He smiles, completely at home.
Her eyes go wide with surprise. But the good kind of surprise.
She pulls him closer. Leads him to our table.
Iris dismounts from Walker's lap, but she stays pressed against him. Her eyes meet mine. She offers me that same are you okay? Look.
I nod. I am. Maybe. Sort of.
"I'm going to powder my nose." She pushes herself up. Her eyes find mine. "Join me?"
And leave Ryan alone with the ex from hell?
No fucking way.
"I'll be right there," I say.
Iris's eyes narrow no, now.
I wave her away.
She frowns, but she does leave.
Penny sits in one of the black metal chairs.
Frank sits next to her. "Thanks for the invite." He squeezes her hand. "Didn't think I'd ever talk you into this."
"Me either." Her laugh is tipsy. "I'm so glad to not be at that party. Thanks for coming. Sorry it was so dull."
Ryan looks to Dean. "You owe me two hundred bucks."
"Night's not over yet," Dean says.
A cocktail waitress in a black bikini stops at our table. Asks for our orders. Though I guess she isn't a cocktail waitress in a place that doesn't serve alcohol.
How do women strip in clubs that do serve alcohol?
Drunk people are obnoxious enough when you're clothed. When you're naked and they think twenty bucks gives them permission to grope you?