I’ve wanted her for so long, loved her for so long, I can hardly remember my life without her in it. But as we grew closer, we grew reckless. We went from sneaking around under the dark of night to meeting up in broad daylight.
While we weren’t technically doing anything wrong, our age difference alone was enough to turn heads. I felt the weight of their stares any time we went anywhere together.
But it was overhearing Lizzie Cartwright’s innocently whispered words to her husband that sent me running. Without even knowing it, she picked apart every single insecurity I had, unraveling all of the plans Stella and I made.
Like a dumbass, I let the opinions of others get in my head and I left.
I truly believed I was doing her a favor. I wanted her to have the whole fucking world and worried that tying herself to me at such a young age would only hold her back.
In hindsight, I realize it wasn’t my place to make that kind of decision for her. But now, I know better; and I’m damn sure going to do better.
You’d think nine long months of regret and planning, I’d have managed to not fuck up our reunion. But, in my defense, seeing her all dressed up at a party that was sprung on me at the last minute wasn’t something I had accounted for.
I figured we would reconnect at her one of her parent’s infamous family dinners. And while I had anticipated her anger, I still wasn’t prepared for the way her words sliced across my skin. Or for my ring to be missing from her finger.
Foolishly, I thought she’d be pining over me the way I was her. But it feels I fucked up even worse than I thought.
Chapter Seven
Samson
“You hungover?” Orion asks, slinging himself down onto the couch beside me.
I’m not hungover at all; I’m brooding, and have been since I woke up, but it’s better to let him think my surliness is a result of drinking too much than staying up until dawn obsessing over his little sister.
I grunt out an unintelligible reply.
“I feel you. But it’s your first weekend back and the night is young. Let’s go out.”
“It’s almost nine.” I frown. “And we partied last night. Let’s stay in.”
Orion groans. You’d think he was an only child with how put out he gets over not getting his way. “Come on, one drink.”
I glance at him out of the side of my eye. I want to say no, but apparently my brain and body aren’t on the same page because I find myself nodding. I guess hitting up a bar is better than sitting around moping over Stella all night.
“Good. I know just the place.”
The excitement in Orion’s voice should’ve been warning enough. But just like when we were kids, I find myself happily following along with whatever hair-brained scheme he’s cooked up.
And just like when we were kids, I end up regretting it...
“You fucker!” I punch Orion in the shoulder as he pays our cover charge at the door. “You didn’t say we were going to a strip club.”
Most guys would be down for watching hot women shake their asses, but it’s never appealed to me. Especially since there’s only one ass I want to get my hands on.
He huffs, shouldering me into the dimly lit club. “ATF is a gentlemen’s club, Samson. A classy establishment. Plus, I need to scope it out for Ben’s bachelor party.”
“He’s engaged?” I ask, trying like hell to remember if I met his fiancée last night.
Orion rolls his eyes. “Pre-engaged. He plans on asking her any day now.”
“That’s a thing? Being pre-engaged?”
He nods for me to follow him as he winds his way closer to the stage, and begrudgingly I do. He stops in front of two club chairs with a shared table between them. “This work?”
“I guess.”
He drops down into the chair on the left and I claim the one on the right, sliding my phone from my pocket.
As dumb as it sounds, being here feels like I’m cheating on Stella. Which is fucking insane, since we’re not together. She’s not even speaking to me, and if last night is anything to go off of, she has no desire to.
Still. My guilt is real.
“According to Ben, it is,” Orion says as he flags down a scantily clad waitress.
He openly leers at the pretty redhead while ordering us each a beer.
She saunters off, with a wicked sway in her hips. Objectively, she’s pretty, and maybe if I’d never met Stella, she’d have caught my eye. But sadly, like the lovestruck fool I am, no one else compares.
“You’re really thinking about having Ben’s bachelor party here?” I ask once she’s out of sight.
“Yeah, seems like as good a place as any. Why? You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Seems weird to me.”
“Weird how? Hot chicks and alcohol... sounds like heaven, man.”
“For a single guy, sure. But one who’s about to get married probably shouldn’t have some random woman’s naked tits in his face.”
Slowly, Orion nods. “Yeah, you might have a point there.”
But before I can say I told you so, the music cuts out and the lights flicker. I turn to him with my brows raised in question. He shrugs, as clueless as I am about what’s going on.
“ATF, get your wallets ready,” the DJ’s voice booms through the club, “because up next is your all-time favorite, Birdie!”
Several men vacate their seats in favor of crowding around the stage as the music starts up. Orion and I exchange confused glances as a plucky guitar rhythm resonates through the space.
It’s definitely not the kind of music that comes to mind when you think of a stripper, but circumstances aside, it’s not bad.
And then the vocals kick in.
“Dude.” I nudge Orion with my elbow. “Is that... Britney Spears?”
“It’s a cover,” he says, his eyes never leaving the stage.
I follow his line of sight to see what has him so transfixed, and while the woman writhing sensuously under the neon lights on the stage does nothing for me, my best friend seems to be totally caught in her snare.
In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s two seconds away from rushing the stage and kidnapping her.
Dressed in only a pair of red leather bootie shorts and nipple pasties, the way her body moves seems to defy the laws of physics.
But, she’s no Stella.
“Got a little drool,” I murmur, nudging him again.
“Shut the fuck up.” He bolts up from his seat, and I stand too in case he’s actually about to charge the stage.
My worry melts away when he heads for the exit, that is until he makes a sharp turn toward the bar. “Y’all offer private shows?”
The bartender eyes him up like he’s a snack. Too bad Orion only likes women, because from the looks this guy is throwing his way, he’d be a sure thing. “Like lap dances? Yeah, we do.”
“Does she?” he asks, nodding to the black-haired dancer on the stage.
“Dude.” I throw my hands up into the air. “Are you serious?”
“She does.” The bartender nods. “Lap, couch, or bed. But no extras.”