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“Yeahhhhh, uhhh.”Fuck it.Might as well pull off the Band-Aid.“Liv works Wednesday through Sunday, so I shifted my schedule to be on when she is.”Before either of them can comment, I say, “Darryl asked me to train her, so I’m just following orders.”
“Sure.Darryl.”Gabe laughs as he escorts his wife through the door.“You’ve got it bad, buddy.”
“You have no idea,” I mutter as I wave at them through the glass and snap the lock shut.At least I’ve only got fourteen hours and one night of raunchy performances to get through until I can see her again.
Seven
Liv
The Crimson Lounge looks different at night.
The red neon sign promises sex and titillation and an escape from your boring, non-sexy life.It paints the brick around it with a lurid glow that spreads into the parking lot, and when I hesitate outside the entrance, it lights up CJ’s hair like a candle.
“Well?This was your idea,” she says impatiently, rubbing her hands over her arms since she refused to wear a coat over her cute pink dress.“Are we spending the rest of the night standing on asphalt?”
“Maybe.”I fidget as I fight with myself one more time.Does being here make me a liar?I’d like to think it doesn’t.I’d meant what I said this afternoon when I was about to go up in embarrassed flames in front of Jonesy and his friends.I had zero intention of coming back to the Crimson Lounge, ever.I thought snake-hips Santa could live in my memory as an impossibly perfect person I encountered in a rare moment when I ventured outside of my comfort zone, never to be tarnished by a second meeting.
Then CJ brought him up over risotto, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.His razor-sharp abs, the glistening sweat on his chest, that hint of a cocky smirk peeking through the fake beard covering most of his face.He lurked in my mind all the way through dinner and then the rom-com CJ and I caught.What would’ve happened if I’d wrapped my hand around the back of his neck or tugged on those white curls until I could see his lips?If I’d been braver, I’d know what his skin felt like under my hand.How hot?How hard?I missed my chance to find out.
Maybe that’s why I blurted, “What if we popped by the strip club?”on the drive home.And my best friend being my best friend, CJ just grinned and swung her car into a wide U-turn at the next intersection.Now an hour later, here we are, and my stomach’s a mess of excitement and butterflies and second thoughts.
“I’m not losing my mind, right?”
I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but CJ just laughs and slides her arm through mine.“Lady, we’re all mad here.”
She flashes me her best Cheshire Cat grin, her teeth gleaming red under the neon, and it’s so surreal that I give myself permission to descend into the madness with her.
“Okay.Let’s do it.”
CJ and I clear the mountainous bouncer, pay our cover fee, and venture into the lobby.True to the club’s name, the carpeting, walls, and curtains are all shades of crimson.Like last time, a closed set of doors separates us from the main floor stage, and when they swing open to let a group of men swagger out, we’re hit by a thunderclap of electronica and swirling lights and crowd sounds and alcohol fumes.But that’s where the women dance, and the reason we’re here is performing one floor up.
“Good evening,” says a voice to our left.We turn to see a tall, stout man with a tidy white beard and a big smile.“Can I help you ladies find your way?”
“You bet!”CJ chirps.“Show us to the men.”
A laugh booms out of him.“Right this way,” he says, leading us toward the stairs to the second floor.“Is this your first visit?”
“We were here two weeks ago,” I say with a sigh.
He looks over his shoulder, a quizzical expression on his ruddy face.“And why does that sound like a tragedy?”
“She’s got the hots for your Santa,” CJ says.
My groan’s almost as loud as the man’s laugh.
“Oh yes, Luke is very popular.The real Santa wishes he had moves like that.”
“He’s got snake hips.”I swear I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but that seems to be what happens when I set foot in this place.
Our guide shakes his head with a chuckle.“Snake hips.I like that.”He pivots at the foot of the stairs and extends a big hand for me to shake.“I’m Nick, the owner.”
“Oh, you’re Jessica’s husband!”
His smile brightens even more.“That I am.She’s the very best part of me.”He looks so besotted that my insides go all gooey, and judging by CJ’s little sigh, my brash bestie feels the same.
“I’m wearing one of her fits right now,” she confides, giving a little shimmy.Nick nods in approval, although his gaze doesn’t stray below her chin.
“I’m so proud of what she’s built,” he says.
