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That was the truth, too. I waited for her response, and it immediately showed that it had been read…
But she didn’t respond.
Fuck. She hates me. Fuck this.
An elbow connected with my side. “You gonna have a couple shots or not?”
I looked up at Aaron. “Fuck yeah, and then go ahead and order another few rounds.”
“Hell yeah!” he cheered, passing me my two shots.
And then we ordered a few more.
And then everything else was a blur.
Except the sirens. The sirens were loud and clear.
23
LENA
“Who here likes a good show?” the male stripper, dressed in some sort of cop outfit, called out from the center of the circle we were sat in. I tried to avoid eye contact, already weirded out by the private room we’d been taken to. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out discreetly, reading the drunk text from Jackson.
I sighed. Why is he apologizing still?
“You, in the red dress,” the stripper’s voice called out. “Put your phone up, or I might have to arrest you.”
My eyes ripped from the screen and upward, meeting the chocolate-brown eyes of the guy. He couldn’t be much older than me—if he wasn’t even younger than me. Yikes.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Arrest her!” Maeve shouted, bursting into a fit of giggles as she downed more wine. “I think she deserves it. Get her, Officer Sexy.”
Officer Sexy. Oh my gosh. That’s gross.
“Well, you are the woman in charge tonight,” he told her, shooting her a wink and focusing his attention on me. “You better not try to run…though I do love a good chase.”
“She’s the bride.” I pointed to Maeve. “You’re supposed to get at her.”
“And I want you arrested!” Maeve stood to her feet, barely able to get the words out through her laughter. All her friends—most of which I had just met—joined her.
And ugh, I hated it.
I had spent the whole night barely talking, since most of them droned on and on about how wonderful high school had been and how close they all were. The few of her model acquaintances that had showed stayed to themselves.
And that left me, the odd best friend out.
“I’m going to need you to put your hands behind your back,” Officer Sexy, who I didn’t think lived up to the name, instructed me.
“I don’t want to,” I said urgently, but he was suddenly on top of me, reeking of cheap cologne.
“I’ll handcuff her if you don’t,” Maeve shouted, and I shot her a glare. “Loosen up a little.” Her voice dropped down a notch. “It’s just fun. Let him do it…for me.”
I let out a sigh, looking up at the guy. “Fine. Handcuff me.” The girls burst out in cheers, and he shot me a wink.
“Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands,” he murmured in my ear as he pulled out a pair of pink fuzzy cuffs.
I laughed nervously as he leaned over me, his body against mine as he cuffed my hands behind the chair. He was smooth with the technique and as I tugged my arms afterward, I realized—fuzzy or not—those handcuffs did their job.
