by Natalie Rios
“So you can say pet the pussy instead of eat the cookie? Ow!” Her hand moves to her mouth and she’s sucking on her thumb. A paper cut.
No way I’m wasting this opportunity. Reaching across the table, I wrap my hand around her wrist and bring her thumb to my lips.
“What are you doing?” she squawks, attempting to yank her hand out of mine.
Tightening my hold, I gently press my lips against her bruised thumb. “Kissing it better.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” WHACK! Using her other hand, she swats my arm, catching me off guard.
“Jesus! There’s no need for violence. I was just trying to help.” Not really. I’m trying to crack this girl, figure out what makes her tick. Any other girl would have been sighing or giggling at the thumb kissing thing. Girls love it when I kiss their hand.
“This…” She whirls her index finger in a circular motion. “Won’t work on me. Save it for your fan club. Speaking of which…” She points behind me. “Incoming.”
“Hi, Theo. Great game on Saturday.” There’s a pretty blonde at my side, grinning down at me while she twirls a lock of her hair.
“Thanks. I’m hoping we can do the same with Clemson this weekend.”
“You can do it! This is your year, I just know it. You’re the best quarterback in the conference, no doubt about it.”
Usually, I like hearing praise. But right now, with Allie sitting a couple of feet away, I’m just not feeling it. Honestly, I’d rather go back to her sassing me about tasting her delicious cookie.
“Clemson’s the defending champ.”
“Their defense is no match for your offense. I’m Connie, by the way. Maybe we can meet up after the game on Saturday?” Connie eyes my phone with a coy smile.
“Sure.” I absently hand it over and let her store her number. Flashing Connie an apologetic smile, I point to the unopened textbooks on my side of the table. “If you don’t mind, I have to get back to studying. Gotta remain eligible, right?”
Connie’s smile falters, but she slides the phone to me and starts backing away. “Oh, sure. Text me Saturday.”
“Uh huh.” I turn back to Allie, wanting to continue our conversation. But she’s got her headphones on and her nose buried in a textbook. I cover her book with my hand.
“What?” She removes an ear bud so she can hear me.
“I just want to get your thoughts on boobs.”
She blinks. “Boobs?”
“Yeah, you now…” I curve my hands into the shape of huge melons.
“Well, let’s see. I’m a straight female so I don’t really think about them. Though I’m sure you spent the majority of your teenage years studying every one of those sketchy pop up ads you accidentally clicked on. It’s a miracle you’re not desensitized to them by now.”
Smiling, I ignore her barb, instead reaching into my pocket for my pack of gum. Unwrapping a stick, I chew it a few times, leaving her hanging for several long seconds. I love watching her nostrils flare and her eyes narrow at me in frustration while she waits to hear where I’m going with this. She’s really pretty when she’s angry.
“So…” I drag the word out slowly. “Seeing a pair of boobs won’t bother you?”
Allie rolls her eyes. “I see boobs every day, Montgomery. It’s called looking in the mirror. Can I get back to my chemistry homework now?”
“Sure thing, Perez.” Cracking open my book, I try to contain my glee. Tomorrow’s going to be so much fun.
Me: At the library. Where you at?
Allie: Work.
Me: Got an earlier shift today? Nice!
Me: So no library tonight?
Allie: Nope.
Me: Good. I have our first night out planned.
Allie: Sorry, have to work tonight.
Me: I thought you were at work now? Are you working all day?
Allie: Clarification: I’m at the lab for my research job right now. I have to go to my way higher paying job later tonight.
Me: You have two jobs????
Allie: Mama didn’t raise no slacker.
Me: She sure didn’t. Okay, so when will you be done at the lab? Assuming your regular job starts at the same ridiculously late hour you mentioned before, we can do our thing in between.
Allie: Doing our thing sounds all sorts of gross. Can I at least get a hint where we’re going?
Allie: Theo?
Allie: Hello? Bueller????
Allie: You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?
Me: You betcha.
Me: Text me your address. I’ll pick you up in an hour.
8
Allie
“YOU’RE LATE.”
“Is that going to be your line every time we have plans?” Theo asks, leaning against the brick wall of my apartment building as he watches me lock the door.
“Only when you’re late.”
“Right.” Pushing off the wall, he studies me with an arched brow. “What are you wearing?”
I tug at the hem of my dress. “You didn’t tell me where we were going so I just wore whatever.”
“Whatever,” he repeats, with a shake of his head. “And that’s your definition of whatever?”
“Yup.” I try not to be self-conscious about my outfit. It’s a mini-dress featuring a plunging V-neckline and a flowy floral print skirt. It’s actually much more demure than it sounds since one of the benefits of being nearly flat-chested is not having to worry about side boob. “Where are we going? Where’s your car? Are we going to be back before nine, because I have to-”
“Work. I know. And don’t worry. We’ll be back in plenty of time.”
Hmm. He sounds smug tonight. Whatever he has planned, he’s confident I’ll hate it.
“Your car?”
“Right there.” He points to the black Range Rover parked in front of us.
“You drive a Range Rover? That’s kind of a letdown.”
He holds open the passenger door for me. “What did you think I drove?”
“Nice to see chivalry isn’t dead.” I wait for him to round the hood before answering. “I don’t know, a Ferrari? Maybe a Tesla?”
He scoffs. “A Ferrari? I’m 6’5. Talk about a tight squeeze. Also, we’re in Massachusetts. If you don’t have four-wheel drive, you’ll slip and slide right into a ditch come winter.”
Huh. “How…practical of you.”
He’s grinning like a loon at the word practical. Seriously, you would think I just called him hot or strong or something. It’s kind of cute. “I can be a very practical guy.”
“So, where are we going again?”
“Patience is a virtue, Perez.”
“One I lack. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Why do you live so far off campus?”
“I’m sorry, are we making small talk? When did our association escalate to that level?”
“A while ago. We exchanged phone numbers, we talked comic books and sex. We studied together. Keep up, Perez. I expect more from a 4.0 student.”
“Smartass.”
Stopping at a red light, he shoots me a wink. “Takes one to know one.”
“To answer your question, rent’s cheaper out here.” A lot cheaper.
“Where do you park? I didn’t see a lot back there and it took me forever to find a spot.”
“Nowhere. I take the city bus into campus.”
He shakes his head at me. “The bus? From way out here?”
“Yup. I don’t mind. Gives me time to do some personal reading.”
“Personal reading?”
“Yeah. Like for fun, not school.”
“What do you like to read?”
“Erotica,” I deadpan. He turns to gape at me and the car behind us impatiently honks. I point at the traffic signal. “The light’s green.”
“Did you just say erotica?”
“Yeah. It’s like porn, only with words. My imagination is so much better than the stuff you see online. My favorite is ménage. Prefera
bly MFM, though I’m down with MMM too. There’s nothing like a good threesome scene to get your blood pumping in the morning.” I study my nails and wait a couple of seconds.
“Uh...hmm...” And I can’t help myself. His speechlessness has me bursting with laughter.
“Gotcha! No, I mostly read sci-fi and fantasy. George R.R. Martin, J.R.R. Tolkien. And Harry Potter. I love Harry Potter.”
“So that business about ménages was just a joke?”
“I’m full of jokes. Keep up, Montgomery. And please continue driving before the guy in the car behind us decides to come out and beat the shit out of you.”
He immediately puffs out his chest. “No one’s beating the shit out of me. I’m a D-1 football player.”
“And so modest about it, too.”
“‘He who undervalues himself is justly undervalued by others’. William Hazlitt.”
There’s no fighting the grin that splits across my face. “Look at you, whipping out a brainy quote. Although you could have just said ‘know your worth’. It’s much shorter.”
“Ah, but would that have earned me a smile?” There’s something about the way he says it, not in his usual smarmy or oh-so-smooth voice. No, he sounds genuinely thrilled. Like he really did just want to make me smile.
My heart thuds against my chest and I have to look away. This is Theo Montgomery, the arrogant star of the football team. He’s had sex with half of campus. And he can’t even be bothered to remember their names after.
For whatever reason, he’s chosen to weave his little spell on me. Maybe he sees me as a challenge. People always want what they can’t have. Or maybe he’s just bored. Whatever the case, I refuse to fall for it. He can’t give me what I want: stability, security, fidelity. No, I need to keep my guard up around him.
“We’re here,” he singsongs as he cuts the engine. “Hold on, let me get the door. I want to see your reaction.”
“I see we have entered the dramatic portion of the evening. Should I close my eyes? Cover them with my hands? Don a blindfold perhaps?”
But he’s already out of the car and rounding the hood. Opening the passenger door, he lifts me out of the car. Actually lifts me. As in, he sweeps me into his arm and carries me out.
I look up at his face and his eyes are pools of liquid silver, drawing me in like a moth to the flame. I forget how to blink, suddenly feeling a little woozy. It's then I realize I've forgotten how to breathe. Shaking my head, I force down a large gulp of air before I do something completely embarrassing.
Like drop into a dead faint. In his arms. While he’s carrying me.
“I’m not an invalid, you know,” I manage, my voice shakier than normal. “I’ve been walking on my own for twenty plus years now.”
He kicks the car door closed before setting me down. “Just trying to sweep you off your feet, baby.”
Ugh. Baby. It’s what he called Tiffany that night. What he probably calls all girls so he doesn’t have to bother with their names. “Don’t call me that.”
He shrugs, practically bouncing with excitement. Jerking a thumb at the building in front of us, he says, “Welcome to Cherry.”
“Cherry? The strip club?” A look around the parking lot confirms that’s exactly where we are. He took a much shorter route than the bus takes, otherwise I would have realized where we were going sooner.
“You said you wouldn’t mind looking at boobs.” Grinning like a loon, he really thinks he’s won. Well, the joke’s on him.
“Yeah, I see them every day-”
“Your boobs. Not these boobs.”
“No, you don’t understand. I work here.”
9
Theo
ALLIE WORKS HERE?
No way. No fucking way. There’s no way Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, I-tried-to-get-Theo-banned-from-graduation-over-a-stupid-senior-prank, works at a strip club.
There is no fucking way there are men inside who have seen her naked while I can’t even get her to let me kiss her fucking hand. The very idea of men watching her undress, hooting and hollering, saying who knows what kind of disgusting shit, makes my blood boil.
I have to be wrong. I have to be.
“You...you work here? You’re a stripper?”
She gives a nonchalant shrug. “It’s no big deal, especially considering there are girls out there stripping for likes on Instagram. At least stripping for money pays the bills.”
I blink at her. I must be hallucinating. Or maybe we’re on one of those hidden camera shows. Any minute now, Ashton Kutcher’s going to jump out donning a trucker hat.
And yeah, I know Punk’d got canceled years ago. But that’s how impossible this entire scenario seems to me.
Allie works as a stripper?
And then she bursts out laughing, the loud sounds echoing across the deserted parking lot. “Oh my God, your face! It’s too easy!”
“Wait, what? So you don’t work here?”
“No, I definitely work here. Just not as a stripper. By the way, you can’t tell anyone. Seriously. My parents would kill me if word ever got back to them. They are old-school Catholics.”
“Um, okay?” I’m not sure what else to say because I still think this is a hallucination.
“Come on.” Looping her arm through mine, she leads us inside, stopping when we reach the bar. “Hey, Sheila. Two shots of tequila please.”
“I can’t drink, I have to be at the gym for a workout session at 5am tomorrow,” I say, running on autopilot. What in the ever-loving fuck is happening right now? I’m at a strip club with Allie and she apparently works here?
“Boo! Better make that two waters, Sheila.”
The bartender, Sheila, shoots us a thumbs up. “Coming right up! Is this your lab partner, what’s-his-name? Nick?”
“Nope. This is Theo. He brought me here because he thinks I’ve never seen boobs before.”
“Seriously?” Sheila sets the two glasses of water in front of us and shakes her head at me. “It’s called looking in a mirror, honey.”
“That’s what I said!” Lifting her glass, Allie clinks it against mine. “Cheers to a night out on the town! So, what first? Did you bring singles so we can make it rain? Or...Ooh! Do you want a lap dance?”
“A what?” I shake my head, hoping to clear my confusion. “You work here, but you’re not a stripper?”
“No, I’m a bartender. Oh, there’s Raven. She’s one of our best dancers. Raven! Raven! Over here!” Allie waves someone over. “If you’re free, this guy would love a Cravin’ Raven.”
“Sure thing, Al. Hey, handsome.” A girl wearing nothing but a lacy black bra and the shortest plaid skirt I’ve ever seen tugs on my arm. “I’m Raven. Follow me.”
This is all too much. Sensory overload. The blaring music, the dim lighting, the whoops and hollers coming from the men watching the stage. I’m too stunned to do anything but follow as Raven leads me down a long, dim hallway. I glance back at Allie and find her smirking at me, raising her glass in a mock salute.
“This way.” Pulling me through an open doorway, Raven gestures to the lone chair at the center of the room. “Just make yourself comfortable,” she whispers in my ear. The sound of the door shutting behind us snaps me out of my daze.
What the fuck am I doing in here?
Allie, super smart and sassy Allie who I fucking drove here, is sitting out there by herself. Surrounded by those horny hollering men. Meanwhile, I’m standing in a private room with an overly made-up girl getting a Cravin’ Raven, whatever the fuck that even is.
This is wrong.
“I can’t be in here,” I blurt out, turning to fumble with the door. I need to get out this room.
“What do you mean?” Raven asks, sounding confused.
“I need to get back to Allie. Sorry for wasting your time.” And I bolt. Half-jog, half-run back to the bar. Where I find one of those horny men chatting up Allie. He’s leaning in close, touching her arm, as if imparting a secret.
A jolt of rage
shoots up my spine and I shove my way between them.
“Hey!” Allie squeals. Keeping her at my back, I reach out for her waist to steady her.
“Watch your hands, asshole,” I growl.
The creep arches a brow, but that’s the only acknowledgment I get. He looks over my shoulder at Allie. “This guy bothering you?”
“No. Technically, we’re here together. He drove us.” She lightly punches at my back. “Let go of me!”
“This guy isn’t hitting on you?”
“Jesus,” the guy mutters, shaking his head in disgust.
“Of course not! He’s my supervisor. The club manager.”
“Really?” Narrowing my eyes, I size him up. Being the manager of strip club doesn’t exactly raise my trust in him.
“Really,” the manager nods. “I was just asking Allie what she’s doing here since her shift doesn’t start for another couple of hours.”
“Oh.” I flatten my lips, not at all happy with that answer. With the reminder that Allie fucking works here, at a strip club where men leer at her, hit on her, grope her, and God only knows what else.
Allie tugs on my arm, commanding my attention again. “I’m so sorry, Mitch. I swear he’ll never come in here again.”
Mitch. Yeah, the name confirms it. I mean, come on. Mitch, the strip club manager? The guy is a certified creep and I’m getting Allie the fuck out of here ASAP.
“No problem, Al. I’ll just...leave you two alone then.” Mitch slithers away and not even a second later, I’m tugging Allie towards the door.
“What are you doing?” she asks, dragging her feet.
“We’re leaving.”
“Already? Can I stay at least? Otherwise, I’m going to have to take the bus back here in an hour and that’s kind of a pain in the ass.”
The bus. The fucking bus.
I stop just short of the exit and whirl around to glare down at her. “You take the bus out here?”
“Um, yeah. How else am I supposed to get here? I don’t have a car, remember?”
“Taking a bus late at night to a strip club is extremely dangerous, Allie. What time do you get off work?”
