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“Tell us how you and the VP met. Every time I ask the guys, they smirk and shake their heads.”
Both Ebony and Red’s ears perk up, their eyes on me.
It’s a little embarrassing, but I brush it off, thinking, why not? “At the strip club where I was a dancer.”
Candy spits out her beer. Red drops her magazine in her lap.
Ebony slaps my thigh. “Get out! You were a stripper?! Our precious Opal walked on the dark side.”
“Wait a minute,” Candy says, holding up her hand. “Could you teach us how to pole dance?”
Ebony and Red seem equally interested. Lack of entertainment must be messing with their heads.
I laugh, but the bunnies stare back at me expectantly. Are they for real?
“Uh, yeah, I could, but I only learned one routine. I was pretty new to it before I met Gauge. I’d show you what moves I know if we had a pole.”
Red asks, “What about lap dances?”
“I never gave those,” I admit. “But I’ve seen plenty. I could probably demonstrate if it’s on one of you three or Gauge. Anyone else and I’d be crossing a boundary.”
Candy rolls her brown eyes. “You’re a bunny. You’re expected to do a lot more than give lap dances, and not just with the VP.”
Her words baffle me, though maybe they shouldn’t. More than once, she’s demanded I get my ass out of the kitchen and show the guys some love. I respectfully decline.
“Gauge and I are exclusive.” Will she ever accept Gauge is taken?
“Oh,” Candy challenges with a contemptible smile. “I didn’t realize he claimed you as his old lady. Must have missed the memo.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from screaming at her. What would I even say? You’re mean. That hurts my feelings. She would laugh in my face.
I suck at standing up for myself. However, sometimes saying nothing is better than saying something that makes you appear pathetic.
To top it off, Candy’s not wrong. Gauge hasn’tofficiallyclaimed me. He says I’m all his, that I’m his woman, and that he’ll beat the piss out of anyone who dares to sniff the air around me. But he hasn’t claimed me as his old lady.
In biker culture, an old lady is equivalent to a wife. Being attached to Gauge on that level means a lot to me. It would mean he loves me as much as I love him.
Honestly, I don’t know what his hold up is. Dwelling on the unknown makes me anxious. Candy throwing it in my face doesn’t help my befuddlement. In fact, I am so tired of Candy throwing shade, I’m close to throwing hands.
Instead, I opt for chucking a throw pillow, pegging Candy right between the eyes.
“OW! What the hell, Opal?!”
I balk, not fully believing I did that. It’s so unlike me to lose my cool. Quickly, I school my features. “Be nice, or you can’t join my dance class.”
Red turns her face away, trying to hide her smile. Ebony howls with laughter.
Candy huffs, rubbing her forehead, but at least she’s backing off for the moment.
Ebony clears her throat before singing loudly, “OH, CHAAASE!”
The back door opens and slams shut. Chase saunters into the living room with a seductive smirk as he pushes up his thick-framed glasses. “You called, siren.”
Ebony gives him a promising wink, then gets down to business. “We want a stripper pole. Can you overnight one?”
Chase’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. “That’s sounds fucking fabulous.Whoa!Hold up.” He folds his arms over his chest, staring at me accusingly. “The VP isn’t going to be happy seeing you swinging around a pole again, Opal.”
Candy snorts. “What hot-blooded biker wouldn’t be happy seeing a woman riding a pole?”
