Page 58 of Off the Rails

But I found a red piece — a faux-snake skin microkini. It was hot, a newer one in my collection.

Standing from my chair, I threw off the baggy tshirt I’d worn in.

“I am sorry,” I looked at Lola through the lit-up makeup mirror. “I really appreciate you holding my stuff.”

“Thanks.” Lola pursed her lips as she met my gaze. “I was worried about you, bitch.” Turning in her chair, she watched as I slipped my outfit on. “But if you needed some money for a new phone, you could’ve asked. I would have loaned you some.”

Of course I knew that was true. We hadn’t known each other long, but Lola was my type of person. Strong, independent, kind. She’d been nothing but sweet to me from the day we met. But she also didn’t take shit, the toddler she had at home making her a tough cookie and quite protective.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” It was cold now, the tiny little bikini exposing nearly every centimeter of my skin to the air conditioned backroom.

Digging to the bottom of the bag, I grabbed the black, platform heels. They were my seven-inch stilettos. Something a little easier for my first dance back.

I hiked my leg up onto the chair to slip the shoes on, clasping it around my ankle and taking a few steps in them.

Lola swiveled back toward me, her hazel eyes glowing under the bright lights. “But you’re really okay?”

With a laugh, I nodded as the house manager called my name. Turning back to Lola, I shrugged. “I’m good. I found a place to stay, at least for now.”

“Good.”

Shuffling out of the dressing room, I hollered over my shoulder, “Tell Chrissy that I miss her!”

When I’d been staying on the couch, I would be Chrissy’s daycare. Lola would hustle her multiple jobs — paralegal by day, stripper by night — and I would invent games for Chrissy and I.

It was one of the better places I’d stayed. But that didn’t make it comfortable. I still hardly knew Lola in any real way. She’d offered me a place to stay when we first met, but I didn’t want to wear through my goodwill by taking every favor she gave me.

Shaking it off, I tried to get in the headspace for my dance. Stopping by the DJ booth, I leaned in and asked the gray-haired woman to put my favorite song on.

Pushing the curtains open, I plastered on a sexy smile for the crowd. The place wasn’t packed, but if I played my cards right, I could walk away with a few hundred tonight.

On cue, Pour It On by Rihanna blared over the speakers. Catwalking around the stage, I strutted around the edge of the platform. A small, silver railing lined the border, a way of making sure we didn’t accidentally step off the edge.

In the crowd, I spotted Nash and Blade. They leaned back in one of the velvet pink booths toward the back.

As my song sped up, I walked toward the pole. I tried to calm my nerves, knowing that I was being watched. It was one thing to dance with a random stranger in the audience and another for two of your… roommates to be in the audience.

Roommates who were very interested in some extracurricular activities.

Gripping the pole, I started with a few simple spins around the metal. Doing some floor work, I tried to warm up along with the music.

With my back to the pole, I let my hands stretch over my head, dropping down to the ground as the chorus started. I bounced along to the song, bobbing my head to the beat.

My eyes caught on my Freaks.

Nash sat back, leaning into the booth with her arm stretched over the length of the sofa. Her lightning bolt tattoos stretched along her muscles.

Next to her, Blade was finally still. Her eyes were peeled on me, one foot up on the booth and the other still touching the ground. She crossed her arms over her knee, her forearms bulging along the lines of her splattered ink.

I didn’t want to admit how gorgeous they were, chiseled jaw lines and toned muscles. But there was no denying how hot they looked.

In front of them, two towering stacks of bills rested on the table. Two plates of buffet food were piled high, buffalo wings cleaned from the bones on each plate.

At least they were making themselves at home.

I tried to disguise the confusion on my face, standing up and gripping the pole as I climbed up it.

I’d told security that they were with me which would have excluded them from the club's cash minimum.