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ThistimeIwas faster with my money, slapping a twenty down on the counter.Axelshoved it away and handed his cash to the bartender instead.Ihad noticed the way men had been perusingAxelsince our arrival.Theyedged away from him and his threatening presence.Thebartender was no different.Heread the ire onAxel’sexpression and accepted his money instead of mine.
“Noway,”Iobjected. “I’mpaying for this round.”
“Saveyour money for the strippers,” he grunted, grabbing our drinks and leading us toward one corner of the room.
Ifollowed him, leaving the twenty behind for the bartender as a tip.Inoticed the man’s reluctance even thoughAxelwas no longer shooting him a death glare.
“Doyou always boss people around?”Iasked from behind.
“Yes,” he spoke without looking at me, setting our drinks at a circular booth.Itwasn’t as grimy asIhad expected, without any mystery stains on the red leather fabric.Axelmotioned for me to climb in first and settled in next to me.Corneredinside a booth,Iwas suddenly hyper-aware of how secluded we were.Preythat’d walked into a lion’s den.
Ihad promisedJordanto not only steer clear of men likeAxelbut specifically him.Instead,Iended up at a strip club with the very man.EvenasItried to justify my reasons (safety concerns and needing a ride to leave the premises soI’dstop pissingMilanoff),IknewJordanwould hit the roof if she knewIwas here with theDJ.
Myleg bounced nervously when another whiff of his indescribable aroma assaulted my senses.Fuck, what was that scent?Musk?Vanilla?Bergamot?
Ugh.
“Thankyou for the drink,”Imumbled. “Butyou really should have let me pay.Thisbucket list is for my benefit.Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Trustme.Idon’t do things unlessIwant to.”
“I’massuming you generally do whatever you want.”
“Ionlydo whateverIwant.”
“Andtonight, you wanted to help me with my bucket list.Why?”
“Tofind out your name.”
Ishook my head. “Notgonna happen.Whatif you blab to someone about meeting me, and word gets back to my family?”
“Butyour family doesn’t care if you date someone outside your race.”
“Wearen’t dating,”Ireminded him.
“Ipicked you up, brought you here, bought you a drink.That’sa date.”
Myjaw dropped.Theman was delusional.Weweren’t dating, nor were we friends.Wewere nothing. “Ihardly consider going to a strip club a date.”
“Youchose the venue,” he countered.
“Evenif this were a date, which it isn’t, one date doesn’t meandating.Thelatter is a continuous term referring to a long-term situation.”
“Semantics.”Hewaved it off as if the matter about the status of our relationship had been settled.Hisindex finger waved between us, returning to his previous point. “Ifit’s not about cultural differences, why does it matter ifItell someone about us?”Hespeared me with his prominent orbs of dark liquid, calculating the possible reasons.
Ismoothed my mien.Revealingany expression to this man was dangerous.Hepaid attention to every detail, the tiniest hints, and kept drawing conclusions with unyielding accuracy.Icursed upon realizing his large frame took up so much of the booth that there was no room to move away from his concentrated attention.
Takinga sip of my dirty martini,Icarefully averted my gaze.Ginmight inebriate my senses, but my hearing remained impeccable.
“I’mguessing your family is rich and pretentious,”Axelspeculated. “Andwouldn’t approve of the riffraff you enjoy hanging out with.”
Theshrewd way he deduced the reasoning hit home, and my eyes threatened to round at his explicit but accurate assessment.
Tobe clear,Iconsidered the two drunks from the pavement to be riffraff.FromeverythingIgathered aboutAxel, riffraff was an inaccurate description of him.Nevertheless, my family and friends would take one look at his tattoos, nonconformist clothing, and job title and declare him a risk.
Itook another sip of my drink, allowing vermouth and gin to soothe my taste buds and gather some liquid courage before speaking. “Theywouldn’t be happy with my present company,”Iadmitted. “I-Ihave fucked up a lot.So, the only decisions of mine they trust are the ones they’ve vetted and approved.”
Hecaught onto my flat tone. “AndIwouldn’t be someone they’d vet and approve?” he guessed.
