I felt so weird, so off. I was usually the one up at the edge of the stage, stuffing money in my bra so the only way the strippers would get paid was with their faces in my cleavage.
But tonight it seemed kind of boring.
In fact, I kept thinking about Bodie. I wondered if he could dance like any of these guys, and then I wondered if I could convince him to strip for me. I wondered if he would have liked my new mentor’s galactic ass as much as I had. I wondered if he would have been jealous when B-Boy Johnny was all up in my grill.
I wondered if one of the ladystrippers had been on him, how I would have felt.
And then I imagined pulling a stripper out of Bodie’s lap and shoving her, subsequently being escorted out of the club by security. It didn’t make me feel better. I mean, shoving an imaginary stripper who had dared to touch Bodie made me feel better, but the reality was that I felt a little tingle in my chest that scared the shit out of me. Feelings. Real feelings.
Not-Bodie’s Armani cologne hit me before I sensed someone standing next to me.
“Hey.”
I turned to find B-Boy Johnny smirking at me, fully clothed, with his hat pulled down over his eyes.
I bet he’s balding. Bodie’s hair could stop traffic.
I smiled politely. “Hey. Good job out there.”
“Thanks. I couldn’t help but notice you.”
I laughed patronizingly and pointed at my head. “Yeah, it’s the hair. Kinda stands out.”
“It’s not just that,” he said, slipping a hand around my waist. “You’re … I dunno. Different.”
Johnny was apparently real wordy. And handsy.
I chuckled and put a hand on his chest as I twisted out of his grip, itching to get away. “You’re sweet, but I have a boyfriend.”
He was still smirking. “That’s all right. It’s just mind over matter, baby. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter.”
I couldn’t help but laugh again as I stored that one in my Come-On Lines folder. “I’m sorry. Have a good night,” I said as I walked away.
My heart was banging. I had no idea what had gotten into me. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d turned a guy down who was hot and could move his hips like a fucking snake.
But what nearly knocked me over was the fact that I’d called Bodie my boyfriend. I stopped dead in my tracks as that tingle in my chest worked down my spine.
Wait, what?
It wasn’t like I’d never lied and said I had a boyfriend just to get away from a guy, but that wasn’t what this was. When I’d said boyfriend, I’d meant Bodie. I had thought his name as clearly as if I’d spoken it. I had seen his dimple in my mind like my name was written in it. I’d felt his presence as if he were standing in the room with me.
I didn’t want B-Boy Johnny because I wanted Bodie and no one but Bodie.
I was so freaked out that I barely got to enjoy Annika’s lap dance by the hulkiest black man I’d ever seen outside of a Knicks game. He got so in her lap and in her face that I could barely see her around him. She was half-crying, half-laughing and wholly amused, though clearly uncomfortable. Her eyes were closed for a good portion of the show, which seemed to only egg him on.
I had a sneaking suspicion that it was her first encounter with a stripper, which made it that much better. And I was too busy wigging out to get any mileage out of the jokes I’d been saving up to embarrass her with.
Within an hour, we were stumbling out of the club, heading toward Shep and Ramona’s new place, laughing and chatting along the way. We stopped on our way to get pizza from a window booth, which was the only reason Ramona wouldn’t be puking her guts up all day the next day.
And all the while, my thoughts were on Bodie, just as they had been all night. I didn’t think I’d said more than ten words since we left the strip club, and I used them all to order pizza.
Somehow, I’d found myself in some sort of relationship without even realizing it, and I had no idea what that meant.
Denial was a thing, and I was the queen of it.
For weeks I’d been seeing him, and I’d had no desire to look anywhere else. He was smart and hot. He knew how to work my body almost better than I did, knew how to make me laugh and make me swoon and make me happy.
Peggy was quiet. Probably too quiet.
But from the jump, I’d said no commitment. From the start, I’d said we should talk if we caught feelings.
Clearly, I’d caught feelings, and no amount of antibiotics would save me.
I wondered if that meant I had to tell him, and my stomach dropped at the thought. I couldn’t — not yet. I mean, yet was such a dumb word to use because I didn’t know if I could ever. If I admitted it, it would be real. If I admitted it, things would change. And I didn’t want things to change.
The pizza was like cardboard in my mouth as I walked in the back of the laughing pack.
The real issue was that I didn’t know for certain that he had feelings for me too. I didn’t know if I made him feel as good as he made me feel. Whatever he felt — if anything — he kept on lock. He was totally blasé, super chill, reminding me over and over again that this was all for fun. Implying that it meant nothing.
Me calling him my boyfriend definitely wasn’t nothing.
I wondered just how he felt, if he’d call me his girlfriend if a stripper hit on him. The thought of asking him made me gag, and I tossed my pizza in the next trash can I came across. I didn’t want to know if he didn’t feel the same. I didn’t want whatever we had to end, not until it was inevitable. And the only way it would be inevitable was if I opened my big fucking mouth.
Things were too good to blow it all up. So I’d keep it to myself for now, maybe forever. Because I didn’t want to lose him. Not yet, and definitely not tonight. Tonight I wanted to see him more than ever.
I grabbed my phone from my clutch and texted him.
Still up?
My heart skipped when I saw him typing. I am. Working late. How was the strip club?
Good. I had my mind blown by a stripper’s ass. I mean it. My whole universe was shaken.
Learn any new tricks?
I smiled. I don’t have nearly enough junk in my trunk to do what she did. I don’t have enough core strength either.
Hahaha. What are you doing now?
Well, now that I know you’re up, I’d like to be doing you.
What do you know? My schedule just cleared.
God, I was so into him, and I couldn’t even be mad about it.
Be there in thirty.
And as I put my phone away, I felt lighter. Because denial was a sweet, sweet place to be, and I’d stay there until I was dragged out, kicking and screaming.
I thought I’d be able to finish what I was working on before Penny came over, but there was no way. Instead, I bugged Jude and Phil while they worked, antsy out of nowhere.
Penny did that to me. Made me crazy. Made me want things I couldn’t have. Every day it got harder to play it cool, harder to pretend. But until she was ready to talk about it, I’d keep it to myself.
She knocked on the door, and I walked over, trying not to hurry, throwing my chill on at the last possible second.
Penny looked incredible, as she always did. Tonight she was in the tightest black jeans I’d ever seen in my life, the waist high and her crop top short, exposing a slice of the flowers tattooed on her stomach and ribs. She wasn’t wearing a bra again, and I tried not to think about how many men noticed the curve of her breasts, the peaks of her nipple, the bars on each side.
It wouldn’t have bothered me so bad if I’d known she was mine.
She smiled and stepped into me, and I pushed the thought away as I pulled her into my chest and kissed her.
I closed the door, and we walked through the living room.
“Hey, guys,” Penny said, wiggling her fingers at them.
They waved over the backs of their chairs, not turning around.
“Working hard?” she asked
as we walked into my room.
I closed the door and reached for my phone to turn on music. “Always. We’re in DEFCON One now that we have a meeting.”
She smiled and sat down on my bed, reaching down to unbuckle her shoes. “It’s so amazing, Bodie. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Me too,” I said as I stretched out in bed, propped up by my pillows. “So tell me about this stripper’s ass.”
She laughed and climbed up the bed, sitting next to me on her knees. “It was magnificent. It made me want to do a thousand squats because if I could badonk my donk like that, I could die knowing I’d accomplished something that made the universe a better place.” She perked up and popped off the bed. “Oh! I brought you something.”
When she bounded back over from her purse, she hopped up on the bed and bounced a little, holding something behind her.
“How’d you know you’d see me tonight?” I asked, smirking in an attempt to keep my eagerness hidden.
She shrugged. “I couldn’t be around all that gyrating and not come see you after. Okay, now — you ready?”
“I dunno. Am I?”
She chuckled. “You are. Voilà!”
When Penny brought her hand out from behind her back, it held a small painting, about five-by-seven — an illustration of a girl in a leather bustier and leather garters with knives strapped to one thigh, red hair blowing in the wind, and an airship behind her. The word Nighthawk arched over the top of the watercolor drawing, framed by gears.
I took it reverently, my eyes raking over it in wonder. “Penny, this is gorgeous.”
Her smile could have been a thousand watts. “You like it?”
“I love it,” was all I could say.
“I told you it made me want to draw. Bodie, I’m just so happy for you. And I want you to know that I believe you can do this. I believe you can do just about anything.”
I rested my hand on her thigh, and her face softened as she leaned into me, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. When she backed away, I saw something new in her eyes, something different. Something good. Something more.
I felt the warmth of it spread through my chest.
I wanted to speak, but if I did, I’d admit things, and if I admitted what I wanted to admit, the feeling could be gone just as soon as I’d earned it. So instead, I cupped her cheek and slipped my fingers into her hair, bringing her closer to kiss her with more intention.
Penny communicated through sex and through ink, and maybe I could do the same. Maybe I could telegraph how I felt through my lips alone. Maybe she could feel my heart through the tips of my fingers.
I hoped she could. Because the game we’d been running was long, and I felt the end coming too soon. There would be a moment when we couldn’t avoid it anymore, when the words wouldn’t stay inside me any longer.
The chances of her feeling the same were slim, and I knew it. I’d known my odds when I stepped into the lion’s cage and started this dance with her.
But that didn’t stop me from hoping.
Wild Horses
“So when’s your boyfriend coming?” Ramona asked my reflection in the massive mirrors of the bridal suite.
“Hopefully the second I can get my dress hitched up,” I answered without missing a beat before sipping the champagne in my hand to punctuate the joke.
Ramona and Veronica laughed, and I shimmied my rack in my bridesmaid dress with one hand.
“Seriously, my boobs look amazing in this. Maybe he’ll come before I can even get it pulled up.” I turned to inspect my ass, which was on point. “Anyway, I’m not calling him that. I don’t like that word.”
Veronica raised one brow. “And what are you calling him?”
“My slam piece. ‘Cause he’s Sexy Like A Motherfucker, and he can slam me all night. Like, literally all night. My vagina has never been slammed on the Bodie level.”
She snickered. “Slam piece? I mean, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“No wonder he somehow tricked you into being his girlfriend.”
Ramona was baiting me. I was no dummy even if I was a sucker.
Oddly, the moniker didn’t make me want to puke up my champagne and donuts like it had a couple of days ago.
“Slam piece,” I said flatly. “You act like I’ve pledged my undying devotion to him. God, a girl can’t even get steady dick anymore without everyone starting a pool on when she’s going to get engaged.”
Ramona laughed — she was cool as a cucumber, which was beyond all reason, considering she was an hour away from getting married. We stood in the middle of a regal room with a chandelier the size of Delaware and more French antiques than I’d ever seen in one place outside of a museum. She looked beautiful, blissfully happy, and without a single indicator of nervousness, which was impressive seeing as how she was about to walk down the aisle.
She touched my arm, her eyes and smile full of love. “I’m happy for you.”
I smiled back, my heart so furry and warm and full that I didn’t know if all the happiness would stay in my chest. “You too. Are you ready for this?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been waiting for this day forever, but I’m just … I don’t know. Zen as fuck. I don’t even care how things go — in an hour, I’ll be his wife. And then we’ll eat and drink and dance and fuck like rockstars in the Kennedy suite.”
“Yeah, you will,” I said, gyrating my hips.
“Everything is done and taken care of.” She hooked her arm in mine and hung her other around Veronica’s shoulders. “I have you two. I have Shep waiting for me at the end of an aisle to promise me forever. There’s nothing else I could possibly wish for.”
I misted up. “Ugh, you’re so happy it’s disgusting.”
Ramona laughed. “I know. Isn’t it amazing?”
I rested my head on her shoulder and took in the sight of the three of us in the mirror. “It’s kinda the best thing in the whole world.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket — my dress had pockets, guys; winning hard. — and I pulled away, reaching for it.
The photo displayed behind Bodie’s name lit up my phone and my insides; I was nuzzled into his neck laughing, and he was laughing too, his dimple flashing.
Veronica laughed and pointed at my screen. “Oh my God. Boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes and answered the phone, smiling. “Hey,” I said as I stepped off the platform, passing the tornado that was Ramona’s mom on my way out. I swear, I think she was shouldering all the nerves for both of them.
“Hey,” he echoed, his voice rumbly and low and velvety.
My body reacted immediately to that one mundane syllable like it was a secret password.
I hadn’t seen him in two days, since after the strip club. We’d been too busy with wedding stuff to have a free millisecond.
“Are you here?” I asked.
I could hear him smiling. “I am. Just got here.”
“Meet me by the bar.”
“Already there.”
My grin stretched wide as I rushed to the door, calling over my shoulder that I’d be right back.
I hurried through the garden where people were milling around, waiting for the ceremony to start. The venue was gorgeous, an outdoor garden with a big tent for the reception and a gazebo in a hedge alcove that felt like a fairy land. There was a rope swing and a massive bar that had been imported from a pub in France, all brass and mahogany and gorgeous and elegant.
But not as gorgeous as the man standing in front of it.
His dirty-blond hair had been cut short on the sides, kept longer on a top, combed back and to the side in a gentle swoop, and I nearly stopped in my tracks at the transformation. The laid-back surfer in a muscle shirt and sneakers had been replaced by a clean-cut masterpiece of power. The gravity of the vision of him pulled me toward him like a tractor beam. He looked like he’d stepped off a magazine cover with tan skin and eyes shining a shade of sky blue that felt infinite. The suit he wore fit him perfectly — charcoal
gray swathing every angle of his broad shoulders and chest, one button of his coat fastened, his shirt crisp and white, and tie thin and black. One hand rested in his pocket, his coat bunched up at the seam where his hand and hip were, and the other held a scotch.
I was nine hundred percent sure my uterus whispered his name when he smiled at me, popping that dimple and my ovaries with a simple flicker of cheek muscles.
I might have floated into his arms, slipping mine around his neck as I kissed him. There was quite literally nothing else I could have done when I saw him standing there, dressed like that.
His lips were so warm and familiar and soft and sweet. The two measly days we’d been apart felt like a month.
I pulled away, humming, but I didn’t give him his neck back, just fiddled with the short hair at the nape, marveling over the soft bristling against my fingertips.
“Your hair,” I whispered, smiling as my eyes scanned him in wonder.
“You like it?”
“I love it. If it wasn’t combed, my fingers would be buried deep, deep in it.”
He laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and into me. “Later we’ll bury all kinds of things in all kinds of places.”
I answered with a laugh of my own. “What in the world possessed you to do it?”
Bodie shrugged. “I went in for a trim and decided to cut it. It matched the suit.”
“True. But do you think you might grow it back out?”
“Why? Miss it already?” he asked with a smile, holding me tighter.
“Maybe. I do love your long hair, but this is so soft.” I ran my fingers over it. “And I swear, somehow, your jaw looks a hundred times sharper. You’ve got a good looking head, boy. You could be a part-time model.”
He laughed at that and kissed me again.
I smiled up at him feeling dreamy and light and unbelievably happy. “I missed you,” I said without thinking.
His face held its shape, but something behind his eyes shifted, sending a jolt of uncertainty through me, cooling my mood. “I missed you too.”
I swallowed and looked at his tie, running my hand down his chest. “Where the hell did you get this suit?”
A Kiss For You Page 34
