Page 46 of Burn Me Down

“Um…like once a week, maybe.”

At least he didn’t say every day. I knew why I was angry. I had a character flaw, and I could be a little over-the-top jealous. Being cheated on multiple times made you that way. That was my excuse, and I was sticking to it.

“We can go somewhere else if you want?”

Okay, make that two character flaws. Jealous and stubborn. “Nope, we are here now, and I’d like to meet your friends.”

Sliding over, I opened the door and hopped out, cutting off whatever Derek was about to say.

“Take a deep breath. You weren’t together,” I mumbled.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?” Derek looked sheepish with his hands stuffed in his pockets, but part of me wanted to prove that I could do this, and the other was filled with morbid curiosity.

“Nope, let’s go.” I linked my arm with his.

Derek pulled the hood up on his hoodie. “Okay then. I promise the food is amazing.”

The closer we got to the door and the large bouncer outside, the more unsure I was about doing this. I’d attended a couple of clubs with both male and female strippers, but it was never something I enjoyed or sought out.

The moment the bouncer spotted us, he smirked and opened the door. That look did not help the unsettled feeling in my stomach. We stepped inside, and I was assaulted by hot air, far too sweet body oil, and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes.

“Well hello, handsome. Good to see you back. Would you like your usual table?”

I swallowed hard as I stared at the leggy woman acting as maître de. She wore tall boots, a sparkly thong, and little patches over her nipples. I glanced down at my jeans and hoodie and felt very out of place.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Derek said, and she gave him one of those smiles that said, ‘I would eat you.’ My anger spiked a little more.

The moment we stepped through the magic curtain, girls waved. “Hi, Dragon,” two of them said as they walked past, and I shot them a glare.

“Dragon, I missed you,” the bartender said, and I almost lost my mind.

“They know you by your nickname?”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” Derek said casually. He seemed completely oblivious to how pissed I was.

We were led to a booth in the far corner. Derek sat down and scooted over to make room for me. I was shocked that the table wasn’t sticky.

“Here you go. Best table in the house for one of our best customers.” The maître de placed menus on the table, and my anger soared into DEFCON one territory.

“How exactly did you find this place,” I asked as the next dancer on the stage came out and wiggled her fingers at our table. “If she does that again, she’s not going to have fingers left to wiggle,” I growled and then realized I’d said that out loud.

I could see Derek staring at me from the corner of my eye. “What’s going on?” He grabbed my hand on the table.

“Nothing.” I knew I should just tell him I was uncomfortable and we would leave, but I was determined to make it through the meal. How to do that without throwing up or tossing my food at someone was the issue.

He tilted his head like he was examining me. “I actually found this place because I got crazy drunk with Chase, the prez of the…I guess now it's my MC. I don’t remember much, but I woke up passed out in my truck in the parking lot.”

“So you don’t know what you did that night?”

“No, most of it is blank.”

I tugged my hand away. “What I’m hearing is that you don’t really know if you were a virgin when we slept together, and I trusted you to be clean. Now I don’t have a clue.”

“Are you jealous?”

I crossed my arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m concerned for my health. That is a pretty shitty thing to lie about, Derek.” I made sure to use his name. I didn’t know if I could ever use the nickname Dragon now.

“I’m flattered,” Derek said, smiling as I glared at him.