Текст книги "Aflame"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Tate and the rest of the girls climbed out of the G8, smiling and laughing as Madoc and Jax wrapped their arms around them for a kiss.

Rubbing my hand down my face, feeling the thin layer of sweat, I climbed out of Jax’s car and looked over at Tate, her arms crossed as she leaned on the hood and peered over at me.

Her chest rose and fell—she was still catching her breath—and the heat in her eyes was . . .

Jesus.

I took in a deep breath, knowing what she wanted. Knowing everything she still held hostage in her brain and heart that she wouldn’t let past her lips. She was still that innocent and timid girl who let me put my hands on her in the chem lab four years ago, but with the armor of a woman who still didn’t want to trust. Not that she trusted me completely four years ago, either.

I gave her a half smile, telling her everything with my eyes that she already knew.

Nothing had changed. Especially not our foreplay.

***

“Do you need anything?” I asked my mom, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I fastened my belt. I’d just gotten out of the shower, while Jax, Juliet, Madoc, and Fallon took Pasha and joined some friends at Mario’s for dinner.

Tate stayed home to work through her reading list, and I had e-mails, budgets, and a ton of little shit that Pasha had left me to look over, which I’d finished just before I jumped in the shower and my mom called to check in.

“Well, since you ask . . . ,” she hinted, sounding cheerful. “Jason has to miss my checkup tomorrow at the doctor. Would you like to go with me?”

I stilled. She wanted me to do what?

“To the gynecologist?” I cringed, grabbing my watch to put it back on.

I heard her snort. “He’s an ob-gyn. Don’t make it weird.”

Taking the phone in hand, I dug out one of Jax’s black T-shirts, since I still hadn’t gone to claim my stuff left at Madoc’s. “Um, well . . . I’d really rather not, but if you need me . . .”

I heard her quiet laugh on the other end. “You’re precious.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the phone away from my ear to slip on the shirt. “What time should I pick you up?”

“Noon,” she shot back. “And thank you.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. I was trying to be nicer. I thought she’d earned it. But it was damn hard trying to change our relationship when we’d been the same way for so long. How do you go from not liking and not respecting someone to doing both?

It wasn’t going to happen overnight. Not even close. And it felt like there would always be bad blood between us.

But Quinn Caruthers—my soon-to-be little sister—was going to have it all. No one would stand in her way, least of all me.

I’d bury any lingering resentment from my own childhood for her.

I walked to the window, zoning in on Tate sitting cross-legged on her bed with an array of books spread out before her.

Her tanned arms were half covered by her long hair spilling around her, and when she got up to do something with her iPod, I grunted under my breath, feeling my dick tighten and then swell.

“I gotta go,” I told my mom. “See you tomorrow.” And I hung up.

Gripping my phone at my side, I watched her for all of two seconds—fresh and beautiful and sweet and driving me fucking nuts—before I jogged down the stairs, texting as I went.

Come outside.

I grabbed my leather jacket and keys, dashing into the garage, hitting the opener.

I added Please just for good measure, and climbed on the motorcycle.

Turning the ignition, I backed out of the driveway and eased down in front of her house, unlatching the helmet secured to the side.

I knew she might resist, but much to my relief, the front door opened.

She stepped out, folding her arms over her chest, which I knew she did for modesty’s sake. She was in her pajamas—shorts and a T-shirt—so she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Looking confused, she walked down the brick walkway and cocked her head. “What are you doing?”

I held up the helmet, hopeful. “Nighttime ride?” I suggested. “Your favorite thing in the summertime.”

Okay, not her absolute favorite thing, but close.

She looked at me like I was crazy. “I’m in my pajamas, Jared.”

“And you’ll stay in them,” I shot back. “I promise.”

She hooded her eyes, unamused by my joke, and I fought to hold back the grin.

Her red plaid pajama shorts were short and awesome, and the idea of her thighs, looking just as smooth and supple as ever, wrapped around my waist was a thrill I’d definitely let myself have right now. Any way I could get it.

She regarded me, the wheels in her head turning, but I didn’t miss the flicker of temptation she sucked at hiding.

“Just a minute,” she sighed, giving in and spinning around.

She dove inside the house, grabbing a hoodie located just inside the door and her black Chucks. She slipped on the hoodie, sweeping her hair out from underneath, and then sat down on the top steps to slip her shoes on, leaving them untied.

And the amount of sexual rage running through my goddamn body as she jogged down the steps, her long hair dancing in the light breeze and her smile shutting down my heart, made me real damn glad she wasn’t sitting in front of me.

Instead, she climbed on behind me, and I handed her the helmet.

Her bare thighs rubbed against the outside of mine, and when she wrapped her arms around my waist, I closed my eyes, savoring the frustration.

“You ready?” I nearly choked on my words.

She snuggled in tight, grazing my ear with something—maybe her nose? “You smell good,” she whispered, and I squeezed the handlebars.

Son of a . . .

She was doing this on purpose.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” I said, slipping on my helmet.

“You usually take what you want,” she retorted. “Don’t you?”

I shook my head as her chin lay to rest on my shoulder, determined not to walk into that one. We took off, flying down the street as her front leaned forward into my back and her arms tightened even more.

Taking a few turns, I steered us toward the long city streets where we could drive at a decent speed but not too fast. Cruising easily down the calm stretches of road, I felt her relax and lean into me more, her body moving in sync with mine when I weaved to change lanes or turn.

She felt beautiful. Just like always. My body was squeezed between her tight thighs, and she stayed close. Her head—or chin or cheek—never left my back, and we drove the deserted back roads and neighborhood streets just like we used to. Back when we realized how awful it was to be apart and how much we wanted to be together, no matter what we were doing. We simply had to be touching.

And after about a half hour, she remembered, too.

Her hands drifted underneath my jacket and skimmed my waist, her fingers slowly splaying out across my stomach.

I breathed harder as she rubbed my abs, dragging her fingernails across my skin, where every one of my muscles was on alert, thanks to her.

One of her hands moved down the inside of my thigh, and I felt a flutter in my chest.

She grazed my ear with her moist lips and breathed out my name. “Jared.”

I held my hands stiff on the handlebars, almost afraid I’d lose control.

I reached back, taking her thigh in my hand. That soft skin just above the knee teased me. Urging her closer, I strained for control, feeling the heat between her legs hug my back, and I took us back home before I gave in to temptation and pulled over in a back alley.

In front of my house, I took off my helmet and sat there, because her fucking hands hadn’t stopped, and it felt too damn good.

“I missed riding with you.” The warmth of her whisper coated my ear. “Not like at the race Friday night, but cruising like this. It’s like dancing, the way I move with your body.”

I turned my head, leaning into her mouth as she grazed my ear. “It is. The kind of dancing I’m good at.”

And I hissed when she reached around and took my cock in her hand, massaging it and making it painfully hard. It was trying to punch through my jeans.

“Fuck.”

I squeezed her thigh and then gave in. Twisting my body, I slid one arm under her arms and gripped her thigh with the other, hauling her into the front to straddle me.

She didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the back of my neck, she pulled me into her lips, and I fucking took her mouth with just as much force.

Jesus Christ.

Tate’s kisses were like a game. She came in, moving quick as she licked and bit and massaged, then releasing me just early enough to jack me up and leave me hanging. She always teased, letting me taste her tongue as it licked mine, and then took everything away, and I was a damn junkie needing another fix.

And her body. Her tight stomach and perfect legs moving against me and on me were nothing compared to how she looked naked and moving the same way.

Gripping her ass in both hands, I jerked her into my cock, grinding her so she’d feel me even deep inside.

Then I leaned forward, pushing her back on the bike, desperate to slide my hand up her sweatshirt.

But I just sat there, pressing my forehead to hers as we both breathed hard. I knew she wanted it. I knew I fucking wanted it.

Except I was suddenly hit by where this would put us in the morning. We’d fuck, probably all night, and love every second of it. I knew she wouldn’t say no if I took her inside right now, but . . .

“Do you want to come in?” she gasped, taking my face in her hands. “Jared, please.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, my dick feeling like it was going to combust if it didn’t get to her, but . . . damn . . .

I didn’t want to just screw.

I wanted her to love me again. I wanted her to say she was mine.

And I didn’t want to have to bully her about it, either.

Taking a deep breath, I sat up and shook my head. “No.”

Her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

I heaved out a sigh, feeling like I’d rather chew tin foil than say no to her again.

I took her hands and pulled her up. “Come on,” I urged, climbing off the bike. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

She looked absolutely stunned as she slid off the bike and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you serious?”

I almost laughed. She’d always been the one in control in the past, and this was certainly new for both of us.

I put my arm around her shoulder, walking up her walkway. “Take the week,” I told her. “Go to your job. Read your books. Take a great big swim in Lake You,” I teased, walking up her porch stairs. “And if, at the end of the week, you’re ready to give me this,” I turned her around and placed my hand on her heart, “then I’ll take this.” And I slid my hand between her legs, holding her pussy.

She jerked, her eyes rounding again as she stilled.

I leaned in, kissing her lips softly, and then made my way back over to Jax’s house before I had a chance to rethink my stupid decision.

Tate and I would fuck.

Hopefully tomorrow, when she was ready to admit that she wanted me back, but until then . . .

I wasn’t wasting days, weeks, or even months going round and round. I’d have her heart first.

Walking into the house, I noticed Jax, Juliet, Pasha, and Fallon curled up on the couch and carpet watching a movie, so I went into the kitchen to find Madoc, sitting at the table, making a sandwich.

I slowly lowered myself into a chair and leaned back, needing sleep and my best friend’s perspective.

“Are you okay?” he asked, loading his bread with mustard.

I shook my head. “No.”

I glanced at him, ready to do something I’d never done before, and confide in him. I wanted him to tell me she was okay. That I was good for her, and that I was everything she needed.

But his scared blue eyes were focused downward, and he inched back.

“Yeah, well,” he said warily, “your dick is hard, dude, and it’s kind of freaking me out. We’ll talk later.”

And he abruptly grabbed his plate and can of soda, getting up and leaving the kitchen.

I looked down to see, indeed, I was still completely jacked up from the episode outside.

My chest shook with laughter. “You don’t like it?” I called after him. “Freud said everyone was bisexual, right?”

“Yeah, fuck you,” he shot back.

I let my head fall back, laughing my ass off.

Chapter 13

Tate

A week.

He’d asked me to take the week, probably figuring I’d take a day, but in the end, he was right.

Go figure.

I needed the time, and I couldn’t believe he was the one telling me we needed to slow down.

The next day I’d felt terrible about Ben. About trying to force something that I wanted but wasn’t feeling.

After all, Ben was stable, predictable, and calm. Everything Jared wasn’t.

And I was tired of being a cliché.

Terminal good girl wants bad boy every time, right?

So I had tried changing my stripes, only to learn that it wasn’t a question of bad boy versus good man. It was Jared versus every other guy on the planet, and having him near again reminded me of how awful life had been without him.

Plain and simple, I still loved him.

I realized this about the time I arrived at work on Monday morning. Then I spent the evening shopping with Juliet, and when I got home, he didn’t call or knock on my door.

I definitely expected him to crawl through my window again that night, but when I woke on Tuesday morning, he wasn’t there.

So I decided there was no need to rush things. Part of me still didn’t trust him. He’d deserted me twice, and although I saw the proof that he’d grown up, there was no need to dive in headfirst every time.

I’d take the week, do my job and my reading, get my car ready for the weekend, and see what happened. I knew the ball was in my court, but also that I liked it when he pursued me. I always had.

But other than a few sideways glances, he’d left me alone.

When I got home yesterday, I saw him and Jax standing in the driveway with a couple of other guys and Jared’s Ford Mustang Boss 302. The same car he’d had in high school, and the same one I’d spent countless hours in and done countless things with him in.

I didn’t know if they were his friends or coworkers of some sort, but they’d clearly brought his car to him. There was another car in the driveway as well, but this morning when I left for work, it was gone. I figured whoever brought the car must’ve left.

So Jared had wanted his Boss here. I wondered why.

I sat up, grabbing the water bottle and spraying my face, little specks tickling my skin. Juliet was lying on the lawn chair next to me, on her stomach, with her face buried in her phone, while Fallon had gone inside to grab waters.

It was after seven on Friday night, and even though the sun was beyond the horizon, we were still lying out in my backyard, enjoying the remnants of heat and the drone of summer sounds. Lawn mowers, insects in the trees, air-conditioning units . . . and the buzz on my skin, attuned to every little sound of him next door. His music, his car engine . . .

“What are you doing?” I heard Fallon ask, and I turned to see her looking at Juliet, confused as she set the water bottles down on the little round table.

“What?” Juliet looked up at her.

Fallon sat back in the lawn chair, her emerald green bikini bringing out the color in her eyes.

“That’s Jax’s phone,” she pointed out, catching Juliet red-handed.

I grinned, eyeing Juliet suspiciously just as much as Fallon.

Juliet thinned out her lips, thoughtful. “I heard there’s this app where you track each other’s phones. I’m trying to put it on his.”

“Oh, my God.” Fallon reached out and grabbed the phone out of Juliet’s hands. “Jax has corrupted you. Are you really that worried?”

Juliet got up on all fours and turned around, sitting down. “You’re telling me you’re not the least bit concerned that our boyfriends”—and then she pointed to Fallon—“and your husband are going to a strip club tonight?”

“No,” Fallon shot back. “You know why? Because I know Madoc.”

She plucked her sunglasses off the top of her head and slid them over her eyes, continuing, “As soon as he gets to the club, he’s going to take a selfie or some shit and send it to me to brag.” The casual grin on her lips spread wider. “Twenty minutes after that he’s going to text, telling me he wishes I was up onstage dancing for him. And about an hour later, he’s going to barge through our door, horny as a teenage boy, and wanting who?” She placed a palm on her chest. “Me. And I won’t be home, because we’re going out, and he’ll be frantic, wondering where the hell I am.”

I snorted, covering up my own concern. Jared wasn’t my boyfriend. Yet, while I wasn’t as worried as Juliet was, I wasn’t as calm as Fallon, either.

I cleared my throat, adjusting the tie of my black bikini at the back of my neck. “Juliet, you know better,” I soothed. “It’s Zack’s bachelor party, so cut the guys some slack. Jax won’t look twice at those girls, much less do anything with them.”

Her lips pursed, and I looked above her, seeing Jax appear at the window, drying his hair with a towel.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Especially in her red suit.

“All that will happen,” I continued, seeing him smirk and walk away, “is he’ll get worked up thinking about the hot mischief he’s going to get up to with you when he gets home. You won’t get any sleep tonight.”

“And Jared?” she retorted, changing the subject.

“What about him?”

“He’s the only one unattached,” she pointed out. “When the strippers get him all worked up—which they will, because he’s only human—who’s he going to come home to?”

I shot her a pointed look, wondering why she was baiting me. I was about to shoot the spray bottle in her face, but Fallon saved me the trouble. She threw a rolled-up towel at Juliet’s head, at which Juliet threw one back, and they both started laughing.

After another hour, we’d cleaned up the backyard and made some dinner—since the guys were getting food with Zack before heading to the club—and then we parked ourselves outside on the front porch to eat. Juliet still wore her red bikini with a cutoff jean skirt. Fallon had on a pair of white shorts, and I had slipped on a sheer white cover-up.

“Oh, my God.”

I looked up, seeing that Juliet had dropped her fork and was staring across the porch, into the distance. She darted her gaze down, glancing to where the fork had dropped by her feet, but then forgot it, shooting her eyes back up.

I followed her line of sight, and my jaw tightened with a smile.

Jax had stepped out of the house, looking a lot different, and Juliet was breathless.

He wore black suit pants and a black jacket with a white dress shirt, open at the collar. His height, due to his long legs, made his appearance all the more forbidding and—I had to admit—pretty damn hot. His black hair, close to the scalp on the sides and longer on top, was styled in sporadic wisps that were pushed to the front. With his shoes, his shiny watch, his gleaming belt buckle—Jax looked sleek and powerful.

I looked over at his girlfriend, rolling my eyes at the sight of her slightly open mouth as she gaped.

“He’s not a piece of meat,” I teased.

She blinked, coming back to her senses and then slowly rose, walking to the railing.

“Oh, my God.”

I turned, hearing Fallon’s voice this time.

Just like Juliet, she was staring at Madoc—who’d just exited the house, as well—like she was actually in pain.

“He’s such a yuppie.” She gave him a wistful look. “But he’s so damn cute.”

I barked out a laugh.

Madoc was also dressed in black suit pants and a black jacket, but he wore a gray shirt with a silver necktie. Madoc looked great in ties. They fit his style and his broad chest, and the fact that he took care with his clothing choices, always making sure that everything he wore was a perfect fit, only amplified the fact that Madoc being preppy did nothing to quell how hot he got his alternative-styled wife.

Fallon stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Yeah, baby!”

Juliet joined in, whistling at her man as they both leaned over the railing.

“You guys are idiots,” I teased again, standing up to pick up the fork.

They both started laughing, and both men shook their heads, smiling as they headed over.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the house, watching the girls swing their legs over the railing and sit.

But then my face fell. My stomach dropped, and my breath cut off, and holy shit.

Jared had walked out of the house, locking the door behind him, and I looked away, but I couldn’t resist.

Glancing back up for another look, I watched him out of the corner of my eye, staring off out to the street as he fastened a cuff link.

A cuff link?

He was wearing cuff links. I finally blinked, my heart beginning to jackhammer with increasing speed.

Jared in a suit made my mouth water. I loved him in his jeans or casual black pants and T-shirts, but when he cleaned up?

Oh, my God.

His black pants draped down his legs, falling just casually enough to look like he didn’t care, but his pressed shirt and jacket—both a deep, rich black—didn’t hide his body at all. I caught sight of a sliver of his collarbone, since his top button was undone, and then he slipped a casual hand into his pocket and looked over, locking eyes with me.

I turned away.

“What are you ladies going to do tonight?” Madoc picked Fallon off the railing and held her close to his chest.

“Hang out,” she chirped. “Make some popcorn.”

“Right,” Jax shot back, coming to stand between Juliet’s thighs as she sat on the railing.

Jared made his way over, pulling out his car keys.

Madoc was kissing and whispering to Fallon. Jax was looking up at Juliet, trying to sweeten her up as she shied away from him, playing jealous.

And Jared stood aloof, ignoring me. I didn’t know if he was looking at me, and I didn’t know if he was mad that I hadn’t reached out, but I still felt his presence on every inch of my body.

He tugged at me like a magnet.

Jax pulled Juliet down, kissing her nose and then her lips. “I love you,” he said, and my gaze flashed to Jared, locking eyes with his.

“I’ll be home by midnight,” I heard Jax say, but Jared continued to hold me. The heat was unmistakable. But what scared me was how I also saw the coldness.

A wave of déjà vu hit me, and it was like I was back in high school for a moment.

“If you’re one second late,” Juliet scolded Jax, “I’ll have a tantrum.”

“I love your tantrums,” he flirted, pulling her hips into his.

“I mean it,” she emphasized, trying to sound tough, but I knew it was just a game they played. “I will make you bleed if you’re late.”

“Promise?” he taunted, diving in for another kiss.

I shook my head, keeping my gaze off Jared.

“Jax, let’s go.” Madoc pulled Jax by the neck, leading him away from his girlfriend.

All three guys walked to Jared’s car, every inch of their well-dressed, manicured looks emphasizing that they were men now. It was still hard to wrap my head around it at times, since I’d grown up with Jared and met Madoc and Jax as teens. I’d seen them all—more often than not—in jeans and T-shirts. I’d seen them do the dumbest things and even joined in a few times.

But those boys were gone.

“Jared!” Fallon shouted as Jared opened his driver’s side door. “Get them home safe!”

He arched a brow, giving her a condescending look. “They’ll be home before I will,” he said, looking over at me. “I don’t have a curfew.”

My eyes stung with sudden anger as I watched him climb into his car without another word.

He started the car and backed out of the driveway, not sparing a glance back.

Asshole.

Oh, sure. Go have fun. No one’s waiting at home for you. If you don’t have me, you’ll just go play with a random girl, because why not, right?

I clenched my fists and let my head fall back.

Shit. I was being ridiculous.

Madoc and Jax were going to have fun with their friends. To celebrate. They’d come home just as much in love with Fallon and Juliet as ever.

And Jared was manipulating me. Just like he always did, and I fell for it. He was a grown man who still found it quite appetizing to take a great big bite out of my peace of mind. He expected me to give in and call or text to tell him how much I loved him. Or he expected me to come pick a fight tomorrow about something silly just so I could get a rise out of him. He wanted me mad, because he wanted to draw me out.

As the sound of Jared’s engine left the neighborhood, I let the small smile spread across my lips.

He was so used to toying with me. It was like second nature. So why not react and give him what he wanted?

“Wicked is a dual strip club, right?” I asked the girls, already knowing the answer. “Female dancers downstairs and male dancers upstairs?”

Juliet glanced at Fallon, and then both of them looked at me.

As realization hit, Juliet gasped and Fallon threw her head back, laughing.

And then we all shrieked, scrambling for my front door to get ready.

***

“Hi,” I greeted the stocky bouncer with the military buzz cut.

“Hello, ladies.” He looked us up and down, and I stopped, which caused Fallon to bump into me as she veered around into the club with Juliet.

“You let women sit downstairs, right?” I inquired. “If we decided to watch the female dancers later on, I mean.”

He raised his eyebrows, amused. “We love our female customers,” he played. “No matter what turns them on.”

I straightened. Yeah, I didn’t mean that really, but okay.

Entering the club, I inhaled, not sure what to expect. Cigarettes and maybe the stench of stale liquor, but that wasn’t what hit me as soon as I entered.

The scent of golden peaches and rich berries and lilies drifted through my nostrils, filling my lungs with their hint of vanilla and musk. The black and burgundy interior of the entryway was accented with gold fixtures and would probably seem gaudy elsewhere, but here, the less-is-more idea prevailed. It wasn’t overwhelmingly busy. The carpets were lush, the walls were a warm but dark violet, and the décor possessed singular objects on which to focus your attention instead of too much to distract you.

We stepped through a doorframe without a door on it and immediately stopped, seeing the low ceiling give way, and the room before us damn near took my breath away.

“No wonder they dressed up,” I said under my breath. “This place . . .”

I’d only heard about Wicked. It was halfway between Shelburne Falls and Chicago and was a popular stopping point for men—and women—on their way home from work to the suburbs. It was reported to have great music, the best-looking dancers—which it would, since there were about four universities within an hour of here that had a lot of hardworking students needing good-paying jobs—and it also had a five-star chef.

The guys had to be paying a thousand dollars per table to throw this bachelor party.

A hostess in a tight black dress—much like my own—approached us with menus.

“Hello.” Her long, brown hair, bronze complexion, and dark eyes glimmered in the surrounding candlelight. “The ladies’ show upstairs doesn’t start again for another hour, but we can get you seated.”

I barely heard her, looking around for the guys. It was after ten, and while they held only two performances with the male dancers on Friday and Saturday nights, the female dancers performed around the clock.

“Actually,” Fallon spoke up, “can we sit down here and have a drink first?”

What?

“Of course.” She smiled and nodded. “Follow me.”

I let out a sigh and followed, Juliet at my side, with her gaze darting everywhere, probably looking for Jax.

While my curiosity was all for getting a glimpse of the guys tonight, I didn’t want this to be about them. Madoc and Jax expected Fallon and Juliet to handle themselves with patience and understanding—which they did—but it would be a hell of a riot to see how they handled themselves when they found out their women were upstairs getting a show, too.

That was the point of coming here, after all.

“Ugh,” Fallon groaned as she halted and looked at the stage. “Look at her tits.”

I twisted my head, looking up onstage, and immediately I could feel my face falling.

Shit.

A beautiful blonde with lowlights in her hair wore a gold bikini that pushed up her breasts, making them stand out against her flat stomach and perfect skin. And as she held the pole with one hand and leaned back, rolling her hips and bringing the back of her hand up to flip her hair, my gut twisted.

I didn’t want Jared to see her. She looked like me, only better.

“I thought you weren’t worried,” Juliet said to Fallon.

Fallon shook her head, still watching the dancer. “Don’t serve me that shit now. You have great boobs.”

Juliet grinned, following the hostess. “Madoc likes yours,” she reassured Fallon. “Come on.”

The hostess sat us down in a semicircle booth of burgundy velvet with a black table and drapery tied back on both sides. A dim lamp hung from overhead, flickering to look like a candle.

“There’s no table fee?” I asked, sliding into the booth.

“Not for you three.” She winked, handing out drink menus. “Lap dances are fifty bucks, though. Enjoy.”

I snorted. Yeah, because we definitely wanted lap dances.

“How do we even know they’re here yet?” Juliet asked, looking at both of us.

“They’re here.” Fallon smirked, flashing her phone and showing the selfie Madoc must have taken just outside the club. “He sent this twenty minutes ago.”

One by one, we all let our eyes drift to the sea of customers out and about in the club, looking for the bachelor party, when I knew we shouldn’t. The guys should be left alone. Until later, when we let it slip via text or social media that we were upstairs getting our own eyeful.

It took me about two seconds to locate them.

Jared and a team of other guys sat right in front of the stage, off to the right. Zack, Madoc, Jax, their high school friend Sam, with about half a dozen other guys I barely knew, were surrounded by about three smaller tables as they sat back in cushioned chairs with drinks in hand. Jax took a bottle and poured a few shots, handing one to Jared and Madoc, at which Jared tipped his head back, downing the shot. I inhaled an excited breath.

Burying my face in the menu, I mumbled to the girls, “Around the stage. With the girl dressed like a Native American giving Zack a lap dance.”

They dove back behind the curtain, and Juliet huddled close to Fallon as they both spied on the guys.

I laughed under my breath.

“Good evening,” a server greeted us, stopping at our table. “Would all of you like something to drink?” she asked, setting down napkins.