Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
A spike of annoyance pokes at me but I brush it away. “It’s none of your business, but Dex said I could visit him whenever I wanted. So I did.”
“Okay.” She holds her hands in the air as if she’s putting away her bitch claws for the night.
Silver space cowgirl saunters over to the bar, hips swaying in a way that captures every man’s attention. A long, thick curtain of black hair falls over her shoulders and down her back. Her perfectly made-up face belongs on a beauty blog of “best application” examples. If I’d brought Serena with me, she probably would’ve tried to chat the dancer up for tips on her fabulous false eyelashes.
Assuming she’s coming this way to drop off a drink order, I turn back to the bar and sip my lemonade. I need some ice, but I’d rather eat an entire lemon—rind and all—before I ask Willow for anything.
Space cowgirl stops right next to me. Bracing her hands against the bar, she leans over to murmur something to Willow. I try not to notice her breasts overflowing the cups of her silver top from my peripheral vision.
“So,” she snaps.
My body stiffens at the sharp tone so close to my ear. Is she talking to me?
The dark-haired beauty flicks her gaze over me in a dismissive, bordering on angry, way. “Who are you? Dex’s sister?” She spits out the questions like nails.
I drop my gaze to her hands and the purple talons that I’d rather not have raked over my face. She could scoop out my eyeballs with those nails.
“I…” My voice breaks on a squeaky high note. Where did all of my fuck-off go?
“Serenity.” Willow leans over the bar and snaps her fingers in the girl’s face. “Watch how you talk to our guests.”
Serenity? Someone needs a better stage name. Nothing about this one says calm or tranquil.
“Well, who’s this little Raggedy Ann bitch then, Willow? Sittin’ over here lookin’ like she’s from corporate or somethin’.”
That’s a…lot of insults to unwrap. Raggedy Ann? I touch the ends of my hair. Did I go too red this time?
Screw this chick.
“If I was from ‘corporate,’” I pause to curl my fingers into bitchy little air quotes, “do you think insulting me would be a good idea?”
“What?” she screeches.
“Don’t make me get Malik in here to throw you out,” Willow warns.
“We don’t need no more dancers,” Serenity says. “We got enough.” She rakes her dismissive gaze over my body. “No one’s looking for the uptight experience, either.”
Uptight? Me?
Willow slams two bottles of what I guess is soda on the bar. “Take your order and go.”
Serenity casts one more suspicious look my way, grabs the bottles, and sashays away.
“Sheesh,” I mutter.
“That’s a good preview of what you’ll get up at the clubhouse,” Willow says. “If you make it that far.”
What is this, a reality dating show where all the women fight over one guy?
“I’ve already met a few of the old ladies,” I mutter. Maybe it was a mistake to come here. “None of them behaved like her.”
Willow pauses and squints at me. “You have?” She tilts her head. “How long have you known Dex?”
I glance at the rest of the club, searching for his comforting presence and spot him all the way on the other side talking to another bouncer. “A little while. My best friend is engaged to one of his brothers.”
Her eyes widen, like she’s rethinking her earlier cattiness toward me. “Oh.”
Should I have introduced myself to her as Grinder’s old lady’s bestie? That sure would’ve been a mouthful.
Business at the bar picks up. Dancers, or waitresses, I can’t tell, stop by with orders for Willow. Some study me with curiosity but none of them speak to me.
After about half an hour, I’m ready to go. None of the other dancers who’ve taken the stage are as impressive as the one who did all the pole tricks. I watch Dex here and there. Talking to customers, the bouncers, and the dancers. He seems so…different in this environment. Tense. No, maybe that’s not the right word. Focused. Definitely not the relaxed, easygoing man I’m intimately acquainted with. It really seems like just a job to him. One that he takes seriously.
I sip my lukewarm lemonade and check the time.
Someone touches my back and leans into my space. Dex presses a kiss to my cheek. His familiar woodsy, soapy scent wraps around me. A faint trace of something chemical and coconutty follows his comforting scent. Cheap body spray from one of the dancers who took a moment to rub up against him?
“Sorry that took so long,” he says.
I force a cheerful smile. “It’s okay.” I pick up my cup and finish my drink. “It’s time for me to head home, though.”
“Libby have rehearsal tonight?” he asks.
I nod. “Her friend’s mom is supposed to give her a ride, but I still want to be home when she gets there.”