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“Why?” He laughed again. “You don’t want me bragging about eating your pussy? Why not? These other guys would be jealous as hell. In fact—”
“Trayherne Elliott Knox, you better start sucking on that beer right quick.” My face was flaming hot enough to serve as a light in the tunnel. “You have talked enough.”
“That’s my father’s name,” he said quietly, and all at once I wished I’d let him continue his playful recitation. My embarrassment didn’t matter. I didn’t want him hurting when he was too drunk and overwhelmed to fight his way clear.
“I know, sweetie.” The word sweetie had no sooner left my mouth that I nearly choked on my shock. I wasn’t one for endearments. “Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.”
It scared me more than a little to realize how far I’d go for him. The ends of the earth didn’t sound out of the realm.
“No, better if you don’t. I’m a miserable drunk.” He let out a halfhearted chuckle. “Don’t want you to leave me too.”
My eyes stung and I dropped my shoulder against the nearest wall. I needed the extra support. Hearing his pain cracked me open in ways I’d been unprepared for. As much as I loved him, he’d never been anything but a pillar of strength. I was the bag of crazy. He was the stoic one who didn’t need therapy and didn’t lose his temper every time anyone looked at him funny.
Knowing he had a breaking point too crushed me more than I’d thought possible. And it made me desperate to help him become whole again. I’d do anything. Say anything.
Be anything.
“I’m not leaving you. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and it triggered one in me until he continued. “My mom left again. She always picks him. Even when he hurts her.”
I clutched the strap of my backpack. It was a pathetic substitute for holding him, and for once, I was certain he needed that every bit as much as I did. “All I want right now is to be with you. I’ll even drink with you. Tell me where you are,” I pleaded.
Muffled noises came over the line, then I heard his very distinct question, “Hey, where are we again? I know it’s a strip joint but what’s it called?”
I shot straight up against the wall. Strip joint? He did not just say he was at a strip club.
Jealousy reared up in me as fast as a geyser as I stared down at my threadbare jeans and snug Vinnie’s shirt. It made the most of what nature had given me, but that wasn’t saying much. The girls there would be flaunting a bounty I could only dream of.
Not that I would. Ever. I didn’t care about stupid tits. Besides, that’s what push-up bras were made for, and why I might’ve bought two that still had the tags on.
Tray came back on the line. “Gio says it’s called The Pyramid Club.”
If possible, I startled even more than the first time. “Gio? As in Giovanni Costas? The guy you hate?”
He wasn’t hanging out with his best friend. Oh no, that would be too logical. He was getting drunk with the guy he’d hissed at and nearly cold-cocked earlier in the day.
Maybe I’d have to rethink my preference of the male gender, since they appeared every
bit as unpredictable as females.
“Yup. He was at the gym. Said he was heading out, and I figured I could use a distraction so why not? I knew you wouldn’t care.”
I sat down heavily on a bench. I’d need to look up the address of this strip club, once my brain stopped spinning like a mad pinwheel. “Oh you did, did you? Did I forget the conversation when I said you were free to go to any strip joint that tickled your…fancy? And it better be just your fancy that’s being tickled, by the way, because I won’t hesitate to hit a chick with collagen lips.”
Or collagen other things.
I hadn’t changed my mind about him cheating, and he was right that I probably wouldn’t care that he’d gone to a strip club after I’d had a drink of my own. But the fact that he’d gone there with a guy who probably had a tattoo that said built for your pleasure above his genitals put me a bit on edge.
Tray laughed. “I’d like to see that. Trust me, none of them are my type.” A deep voice that I recognized as Giovanni’s rumbled next to him and Tray laughed again, setting my teeth on edge. “Gio says hi.”
“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” I warned.
“Why? You gonna dump me?”
“You wish. I mean, fraternizing with the enemy.”
“Oh. Huh.” He had another muffled conversation with said enemy. “I wouldn’t call it fraternizing. I still don’t like the guy and he doesn’t like me. We’re just…imbibing together. You know.”
