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“It was either Coronas or Budweiser. Trying to keep it classy,” he explained in a dry voice. Paige gaped at the tray.
“I saidashot, not six,” she reminded him.
“I didn’t want to have to make a million trips. Now we can take them at our leisure, and as a bonus, the bartender seems to think I’m a big spender, she'll remember when we go back up for more,” he explained.
“What are they all?” she inquired, leaning over the tray.
“First two are just straight Crown, but the next two are Kamikazes, and then two shots of Patron,” he counted them off. Paige stuck out her tongue.
“Tequila is the devil, I won't be drinking one of those,” she told him. He slid into his seat and raised an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, we’ll see about that.”
By one-thirty in the morning, Paige had taken the tequila shot. She hadn’t planned on it, but she'd felt giddy after Parker had chased off a guy who'd tried to chat her up. She knew it should’ve upset her – a chatty guy usually meant free drinks, and Parker didn't have any kind of control over her.
But she was surprisingly loving this new, semi-possessive side of him, and the more the alcohol loosened her up, the more she reveled in his attention. She wanted to be there with him, she didn't want to talk to some random guy. Now she was feeling decidedly tipsy and ridiculously good about herself, and Parker was coming back to the table with another tray of drinks.
“I went light this time, just the two Lemon Drops, so we can take our time. It’s half an hour till closing,” he said. Paige nodded, grabbing her shot and downing it, bopping around in her seat to the jukebox music.
“I wish there was a dance floor,” she sighed wistfully.
“You like to dance?" he sounded surprised.
“Of course. I’m a girl, most girls like to dance,” she pointed out.
“I’m surprised you never said anything – we could’ve gone to some awesome nightclubs in St. Louis. I figured you weren’t a dancing kind of person,” he said.
“I’ll have you know, mister, that I go-go dance when I need to make some quick cash,” she informed him. Parker’s jaw nearly hit the floor.
“You’re fuckin’ with me. Go-go dancing!? I don’t believe it,” he said with shock in his voice. She leaned back in her chair and put her hands on her hips.
“What, you think I couldn’t do it?” she asked with a challenge in her voice. He visibly swallowed.
“No, I think you’re quite, uh,capable.I just can’t picture it. You, well ...hatepeople, and go-go dancing seems to be all about making people happy.”
“Not really. You stand on a platform out of everyone's reach, you get to dance for as long as you want, and best of all,no oneis allowed to touch you, or they'll get bounced out on their ass.Andyou get paid. My kind of gig. The only downside is the lingerie most places make us dancers wear.”
At the mention of lingerie, Parker sprayed his beer across the table.
“Uh,” was all he managed for a moment while Paige stared at him like he was a troll. “Yeah, I guess I could see how that could be ... um ... uncomfortable?”
Paige started laughing, but was interrupted by a bubbly blonde girl bouncing up to their table. She had her back to Paige and was holding a napkin out to Parker, laughing. He laughed as well and took the napkin.
“You looked like you could use this,” the blonde giggled. Parker nodded while wiping down his chin.
“Thanks, I did,” he replied, mopping up the beer on the table as well. Paige glared at Blondie’s back.
“Excuse me,” she said, but Blondie just flipped her hair over her shoulder and moved so she was blocking Paige completely.
“So, I know you’re not from here, cause everyone knows EVERYONE in this little bitty town. Where y’all from?” Blondie giggled some more.
“Excuse me.” Paige’s voice was a growl now.
“From back east. We’re just driving through,” Parker answered the girl, leaning back in his chair.
“Excuse me!” Paige barked in a loud voice. Blondie finally moved and acted like she'd just noticed Paige.
“Oh I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t even see you sittin’ there! I was just sayin’ hi to your cute friend here,” Blondie giggled yet again and winked at Parker.
