I stood back for a moment to assess whatever the hell was happening before me. The room was dim, lit up by ruby red lights shooting from the ceiling, and I could feel the beats of the music rattling my rib cage. There were chairs and tables filled with women as far as the eye could see.
The difference between a strip joint and this place was that the spectators here were losing their lovin’ minds. Hands holding cocktails were flying in the air, some serious dancing happening next to the stage with screams equivalent to that of an NHL playoff game.
Outside of the firefighter on stage, who just lost his trousers BTW, I could only see one other male in the establishment. I scoped out the venue and spotted Tawnee at a table right next to the stage with Fern by her side.
My jaw tightened as the nearly nude dude on stage thrust in Fern’s direction, and her arms shot in the air. Mission: get Fern away from this mob mentality that was clearly kicking in.
I reached the table, and Tawnee pulled out a chair for me. “Sit. I promise thirty minutes.”
“You said ten!” It was at that moment somebody slapped my ass.
“Just relax. Let’s let single Fern have a little fun.” She pointed as the oiled-up dude on stage leaned down and talked to Fern.
“Ed would not be happy about this. We have to leave pronto!” It was then that two more hands felt up my tushy before I plopped down on the chair. “My ass is literally under siege right now.” Irritation pumped through me as a waitress gave Fern a shot as she passed. Great because drunk Fern and naked men always ended well.
Finally dancing man exited the stage when a booming voice shot out of the speakers behind me. “Ladies, welcome!” Continued ear-piercing screams. “It’s that time of the night. Amateur hour!”
It sounded like a Jonas Brothers concert as screeching screams cut my eardrums. “Get your guy on stage for his chance to be a star! The winning dancer gets a five-year supply of Bic razors and a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill!”
Fern whipped around, and I saw that look in her eyes. Fuck.
She reached the table, and I was already shaking my head. “Nope, not happening.”
Tawnee slapped my arm. “Come on. We know you have the moves.”
“No.” I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest.
Fern smiled, and I melted. I hadn’t seen that light in so long I was blinded.
“Gabe.”
“Stop. I’m not doing it, and that’s final.”
She stepped closer. “Gabe, you want to win this. Did you hear? A five-year supply of razors? That’s like the best prize ever!”
“Can’t do it.”
Tawnee slammed her hand on the table. “You can’t win this?”
I shoved out a sarcastic laugh. “Hell yes, I’d win this thing. But I don’t think I’m going to. Unless?—”
The glimmer in Fern’s eyes at the thought of a competitive event told me I might have some bargaining power. “Unless what?”
“There’s only one thing that would make me even consider, or Fern goes home a big old loser tonight.”
She crossed her arms over her perfect breasts. “Spill it.”
I stood up and stepped toward her. “I get a thirty-minute conversation with you when we get back to the hotel.”
Tawnee waved her hand in the air. “What’s going on here?”
Fern shook her head. “No.”
I dramatically turned on my heel and took a step toward the door when I felt her hand on my arm. One touch and the girl brought me to my knees. “Fine but twenty minutes and only if you win.”
I popped a brow. “What’s the magic word?”
She groaned. “Please.”
