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“They wear harnesses,” Chase says. “Don, the manager, told me all about their safety measures when I called to reserve everything. I’m not about to get suspended right before playoffs, just because I was in a club where a stripper died.”
Mason guffaws. Garrett rolls his eyes. “So glad you’ve got your priorities straight, little brother.”
“Hey, I still asked. Come on, this corner is us.”
We all follow Chase deeper into the club. Long leather booths section off large areas of the club, the black glimmering strings hanging above them almost translucent but not quite.
Chase leads us into one of the private areas. There’s a stage with a pole in the center of the room, and a bar set up in the corner with a bartender ready to mix drinks.
I sink down onto the leather booth that encircles the stage. It’s surprisingly comfortable, much plusher than the leather furniture in my living room. I lean back, trying not to think about the amount of bodily fluids the surface is likely coated with.
Garrett sinks down beside me a few minutes later, while most of the other guys linger around the bar waiting to be served. He got first drink as the groom, it looks like.
“Having fun?”
“Yeah, actually,” he replies. “Nice to get away. I’m glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
“Just wait,” Garrett says. “According to Chase, there’s…and yep.”
I follow his gaze. Five women are strutting toward the center stage. Fivenakedwomen. All they’re wearing are stilettos.
Chase whoops, from his spot by the bar. The beat quickens and changes as the women fall into a choreographed routine, each movement purposeful and erotic.
“Fuck. I thought Chase was kidding about half of this,” Garrett tells me, taking a sip of what smells like straight vodka. His gaze is fixed on the brunette spinning around the pole. “Which one should I bring back to the hotel?”
I glance over at him, startled.
Garrett’s head rolls to the left to look at me, a lazy grin appearing. I’m pretty sure I’m the only semi-sober one in the group. Aside from the whiskey I had at the hotel bar, I haven’t had a drop to drink. But I didn’t realize how drunk Garrett is, until right now.
“That’s your plan?” I scrub all judgment from my voice, but I’m surprised. Garrett met his fiancée after we graduated. I’ve only met Sienna a few times, and one of them was Scarlett and Crew’s wedding. She was the wedding planner.
None of those times did I get the impression they have an open relationship.
“If she’s sleeping with other people, why shouldn’t I?”
I blink at him, even more shocked. “Sienna cheated on you?”
“Yep.”
“Are you…sure?” Not the most sympathetic response, but it’s the first question that pops into my head.
He laughs, darkly. “Yeah. I’m sure. Hard to mistake seeing another man balls deep in your fiancée on your bed.”
I’m starting to wish Iwasdrunk. “I’m sorry, man.”
Garrett nods. “Yeah.” He pauses. “You didn’t ask why I’m still marrying her.”
“I… Not really any of my business.”
He slouches lower, eyes back on the women dancing. His expression droops as well, weighted down by alcohol and sadness. “You’re the only person I’ve told. Figured that was the first question someone would ask.”
“You love her, right?”
Garrett takes a long drink. “I don’t know, anymore. She says she loves me. That I’m always working, and it was a mistake. But can you cheat on someone you love?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in love.”
