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Suddenly, there’s another knock at the door. I start to make my way in that direction, but am cut off by the oldest woman in the room.
“Oh, look! Another stripper!” Grandma hollers, holding the door open for a cop.
“Uh, Grandma, I don’t think that’s a stripper,” Meghan says.
“I’m here to check out reports of loud music and a disturbance,” the officer says, scanning the room, his eyes landing on the two half-naked men in the center.
“Yes, yes you are, Officer. Do me a favor and lose the shirt, will ya? We’re already primed and ready to go, thanks to Linkin,” Grandma tells the cop who’s looking at her as if she grew a second head.
“Excuse me?”
“Your shirt. Your pants. Lose them. Or, as we used to say back at the club, take ‘em off, hot stuff!”
“The club?” I ask, turning and looking at Abby, who’s just as confused as I am.
“Did she tell him to drop his drawers?” Payton asks Meghan, who’s looking at AJ like she might throw up.
“Yes, yes, the club. That’s another story for another day, ladies,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then she turns back to the officer who doesn’t know whether to be amused, upset, or run for his life.
“Hot stuff?” the officer asks, his hands positioned firmly on his hips. As if it were happening in slow motion, Grandma reaches behind him and grabs a handful of ass, making him jump.
“No!” we all holler at the same time, but it’s too late.
“Very nice. I’d like to see it in the g-string,” Grandma says before finishing off her drink. “Now, let’s be a good boy and show me the goods.”
* * *
“Soooo, that was your grandma?” Linkin asks as I walk him to my door after he helped me clean up my apartment. Oh, I tried to get him to leave, but the stubborn mule was persistent.
“Don’t remind me. I can’t believe she felt up the cop.”
“She’s great,” he says with a hearty laugh. “I’m still trying to figure out how she got out of being arrested.”
“She’s always had this uncanny ability to sweet talk her way out of anything, but even I’m surprised we weren’t calling Grandpa to come get her out of jail,” I say as we reach the door.
“What was the club?” he says, bending down to grab the full bag of garbage sitting along the way by the door.
“No clue. And honestly, I probably don’t want to know either.”
Linkin stares down at me for several seconds, making my heartbeat kick up a few notches. I’m suddenly aware that we’re alone. In my apartment. At night. I’ve seen his gloriously naked chest, and suddenly, the thought of seeing said chest again is all I want to do.
Maybe touch it again.
And lick it.
Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t mind licking it.
“Where’d ya go there, Firecracker?”
“What?” I stammer.
“You just got this far-off look in your eyes and your breathing got all heavy,” he says, bending down until his mouth grazes against my ear. “It turned me on.”
“Breathing turns you on,” I whisper.
His chuckle fills my entire body with excitement. “You might be right there.”
“You don’t have to take that out,” I say, nodding towards the garbage bag in his hand.
