Right Where You Are

by L. E. Bross

  “What exactly do new-in-town strippers dress like?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “Think sequins and spandex, baby!” Shari shouted from her room.

  Oh, God. I hated spandex.

  I yanked open my closet door and strode right to the back, where I kept my slumming clothes. Ripped jeans and barely there tops. All found at a rather aromatic thrift shop on Main Street. “So which one are you tonight?” I hollered.

  We didn’t just go out to drink. We invented entire identities to go along with our bargain-priced clothes. It was all part of forgetting ourselves for a few hours.

  Shari poked her head through the doorway. “Hmmm. I’m feeling kinda like a Bambi tonight.” She grinned and stepped in so that I could see all of her.

  A laugh burst out from between my lips. “Oh, my God, that is so bad it’s good!”

  Shari had on a gold-sequined top that dipped down so low her boobs practically fell out, and her jeans had rhinestones on the pockets. Matching gold fuck-me stilettos completed the outfit.

  Her long blond hair fell straight down her back. She’d lined her eyes very heavily in black eyeliner and had on bright red lipstick. It was garish, but she totally pulled it off.

  “You actually look like a high-priced hooker!”

  Shari spun around. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “Give me five minutes.” I grabbed a minuscule top and skinny acid-washed jeans off their hangers. “Tonight, I am Fancy. Fancy LaRue.”

  Shari’s sharp bark of laughter followed me into the bathroom. I stripped down to my matching bra and panties and eyed myself critically in the mirror. God, my cappuccino habit was starting to show.

  “Remind me to go nonfat instead of low-fat on the coffee,” I shouted, pinching the excess skin along my stomach. Mother was right. The last time I saw her she said I was looking a little chubby. Maybe I should reconsider the barely there top tonight.

  I held it in place with one hand and looked at my reflection from every possible angle. Finally I tied the straps around my neck and lower back.

  “No one will even notice me tonight,” Shari said with an exaggerated red pout when I walked out of the bathroom.

  “Please, do you not see the bloat? God, I can’t believe I’m going out like this.”

  Shari narrowed her eyes. “You sound like your mother. You look fabulous and you do not look bloated. Well, maybe your tits are looking a little larger than life in that top.”

  “Crude much.” I laughed. “And if mine are larger than life, yours are overshadowing the sun. It’s a booblar eclipse! Look away! Look away!”

  We dissolved into a fit of giggles. I could see my mother looking down her nose at our unladylike behavior. That only made me laugh harder. If she only knew how unrefined I could be. Sunday brunch at the country club in designer dresses and pearls this was not.

  Shari handed me my own pair of black FMs, and I carefully pulled the eyeliner pencil around my eyelids. I went with a more subtle frosted pink lip gloss. We stood side by side, looking into the mirror. Shari took my blond hair and wove it into a fishtail braid that hung over my shoulder.

  “I still can’t believe your father really expects you to take the semester off to do community service. Did you explain to him what that means? Rush week is a huge deal.”

  I sighed. “Yes, I tried talking to him again this morning. If he wasn’t running for mayor, none of this would even be a problem. His damned zero-tolerance platform apparently applies to me too.”

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re an overachiever and only need one actual semester of course work to graduate. Have you told Sophia yet?”

  Sophia was the president of our sorority. Image was everything to her and her matching sweater sets. “Yeah, I told her I needed to take the semester off to get some things taken care of. Do you know what that bitch said to me?”

  Shari’s reflection quirked an eyebrow at me.

  “She patted my arm and leaned in close and said, ‘I’m so glad you’re finally getting your nose taken care of. You should consider a little preventative Botox too.’ ”

  My best friend’s mouth fell open before she rolled her eyes. “Like you need any work done! At least you are a pure canvas, all natural, baby. I’m not sure Sophia has a real body part left on her.”

  I linked my arm with hers. “And that is why you are my best friend. Bambi.”

  “After you, Fancy girl.”

  I grinned at her and she grinned back.

  O’Malley’s, here we come.

  “This place isn’t half bad,” I shouted in Shari’s ear.

  The music was decent, sort of alternative rock mixed with some country. A live band was setting up on a small stage toward the back of the dance floor.

  A couple of the places we’d visited were literal holes-in-the-wall. Skanky women and men desperately in need of a shower who hid in the shadows nursing their drinks. Last time, I had to use the mace in my purse to get some drunk guy to stop grabbing my boobs under my business suit.

  Corporate CEOs and skeevy dive bar wasn’t the best fishbowl combo ever.

  O’Malley’s was a nice change.

  The people around me were clean. Working class, but we weren’t the best or worst dressed either.

  “Haven’t seen you girls here before,” the bartender said, leaning across the gleaming wood bar. “What can I get you lovely ladies?” For once the bartender was pretty good-looking. His black T-shirt hugged a decent-looking chest, and when he smiled, I saw he had all his teeth.

  “She’ll have Sex on the Beach. I’ll have”—Shari’s glance slid down over his chest before rising back up to meet his eyes—“a Screaming Orgasm.”

  His eyes darkened and I swear he licked his lips. “Coming right up.” He left us with a wink.

  “Okay, dibs on the bartender,” Shari said.

  I laughed. He was back in under a minute. He slid my drink to me with a smile but turned his attention immediately back to Shari. It was like that everywhere with her. She ate up the attention, and guys loved to give it to her.

  “I have to warn you, I’m very good at what I do. Are you sure you can handle it?” He nodded to the drink in her hand, but I saw the double meaning in his stare. Smooth, buddy, I thought.

  “You have no idea how much I can handle.” Shari tilted the glass back and drank the entire thing in one breath. When she set the glass down, she ran her tongue over her top lip.

  Bartender man practically melted right there. “Damn. You might be right.”

  “I’m Bambi, this is Fancy. We’re new in town,” Shari said with a huge smile. “We’re exotic dancers.”

  His eyes got round, and he looked back and forth between us. “Shit. Let me know where you work and I’ll be sure to check it out.”

  Bambi ran her finger down his forearm. “Play your cards right, and you’ll get a private show later.”

  I turned my head before he could see my face heat up. Businesswoman I could play good at, but exotic dancer? Me spinning down a pole? I’d fall right on my ass. Still, Shari had worked us free drinks for the night. And judging by the way Bambi was eye-fucking him, she just might end up giving him a private lap dance later too.

  Which meant I was in the clear.

  My gaze swept the room as I leaned back against the bar, pulling my drink through a tiny straw. Lots of potential tonight, though I never left any of our crazy-night places with anyone. I had Grant. Had. I didn’t have him anymore, though. Tonight was the first time in years I’d been at a place like this completely free to do whatever I wanted.

  And I wanted to forget about Grant.

  Maybe that meant finding a distraction for a few hours.

  Except I’d never hooked up with a stranger before. Hell, I never really had a boyfriend before Grant and I got together. It’d been him and me for the past four years. Sure, guys flirted with me when we went out, and I flirted back sometimes, but I knew I’d never go home with any of them. It made it all fee
l easier.

  Already tension filled my neck as I glanced around the crowded bar again.

  What if I picked the one serial killer? Given my luck lately, it wasn’t out of the question.

  Shari said hooking up was the perfect arrangement because you could get an itch scratched and not worry about anything more. I still didn’t understand how she could have sex with someone she didn’t even know.

  I eyed up a good-looking guy in a polo shirt and khakis until I realized what I’d done. No way, he looked too much like Grant. How about . . . whoa. Too many facial piercings. As I found each potential guy, I marked him off in my head.

  Shari would say I was bullshitting myself. Like I’d really go home with some random stranger I met an hour before at a bar? The wildest thing I’d ever done in my life was take my finals a week early so Grant and I could go skiing in Colorado sophomore year. And it was wild because I told my instructors I had a family wedding to attend out of state.

  I tugged at my shirt, trying to cover a little more of my stomach. Playing sexy was a lot harder than it sounded. Shari was still eye-fucking the bartender, so I kept glancing around the bar.

  I looked past a couple of guys who just walked in, and it took my brain a second to register what I thought I saw. When I swung back to look, there were too many bodies between me and the door to be sure. My mind said that there had just been a majorly hot guy standing there, but reality said otherwise.

  Heavy disappointment sank into my gut.

  Bodies shifted and I leaned toward Bambi, who was still flirting with the bartender. Someone pressed against my side, and I tried to take a small step away. It wasn’t happening. The place was filling up fast. Too many bodies crowded around for a drink.

  “Two beers, whatever you have on tap.”

  The deep voice vibrated against my bare skin. Goose bumps sprang up along my arms. I shifted my body, pretending to look around while I glanced out of the corner of my eye.

  It was the guy. The one my brain told me was there.

  He was tall, even with an extra four inches on my five-foot-five height tonight. His body turned, and I found myself looking at a wide, but not too wide chest. The dark gray T-shirt stretched across it, highlighting the muscular frame underneath.

  Along both arms were swirls of black ink, starting at his wrists and winding higher around his forearms, his biceps, until they disappeared under the edges of his sleeves.

  A deep, clean woodsy scent filled my lungs. I could tell the guy had his face turned toward the room, so I used the opportunity to take a good look at him.

  Strong jaw, sensual-looking lips, dark hair cut short, military style, and even darker eyes. A shadow of stubble graced his jawline. A brief, uncharacteristic urge to reach out and touch it made me curl my fingers into fists at my sides.

  Guys like that hit something deep in my gut. Maybe it was the whole good-girl, bad-boy cliché. Maybe it was a character flaw. Whatever it was, this guy did it for me.

  Hard edges and strong features made him seem almost dangerous. I took another sip of my drink and hoped no one noticed the way my hand shook. Was I really considering this? Maybe it was the freedom of possibility swirling around inside me that gave me this uncontrolled feeling.

  Maybe it was the fact that Grant screwed me over without so much as an I’m sorry. If he could throw away four years like it was nothing, then I could hook up with some guy I just met. A huge middle finger to Grant and his skanky whore.

  If he didn’t want me, then I’d damned well find someone who did.

  So lost in myself, I didn’t realize that the guy was staring right back at me.

  Shit.

  The problem was, I couldn’t look away.

  His eyes got darker, and a slow smile curled one side of his lips up. His gaze lowered, running down over my body, and I swear I could feel it. He took a small step closer, and his hand rested on my hip. His thumb stroked a lazy circle along the bare flesh just above my jeans.

  Nothing a dozen other guys hadn’t done, thinking they had a chance.

  This time, though, instead of moving his hand away, I took a small step closer. Because I could. My heart pounded against my ribs.

  “Hi.” The low timbre of his voice sank down and fed the ache between my legs. God, this instant attraction thing was new. I’d always laughed at those insta-lust scenes in movies where the girl saw stars when she looked at some guy she didn’t even know.

  Yeah, not so funny anymore.

  “Hi.” My voice did this whispery thing I had no idea about.

  “Hey, you ready, man?” a new voice asked. A face peeked over hot guy’s shoulder, and his eyes widened when he saw me. A grin turned his lips up. “Well, hello.”

  “Hi,” I answered with a smile.

  “Seth, man, aren’t you gonna introduce me?”

  Seth. It fit him perfectly.

  Seth raised his eyebrow at me. It took him a second to realize that he didn’t know my name.

  Reluctance swelled in my chest. I didn’t want to give him my fake name. Something about his eyes, the interest that almost but not quite masked a sadness I saw deeply hidden away, made me want to tell him my real name.

  “She’s Fancy, and I’m Bambi,” Shari said from behind me. Seth looked at me like he was going to laugh. I looked away before he could. I suddenly felt ridiculous. Like the phony I was. “And we know that is Seth, so you are . . . ?”

  “Ryan.” His eyes widened with interest when he took all of Shari in. “You ladies want to join us?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and caught sight of the frowning bartender. Shari pushed me along behind Ryan and Seth. So much for our free drinks. Ryan found a booth in a quieter corner and slid into one of the seats. Before Seth could move next to him, Shari darted around him and slid in next.

  “I guess we’re sitting here,” I said with a shake of my head.

  “Do you mind?” Seth asked.

  I looked up at him. There was hesitation in his eyes. Like he was worried it might bother me. Weird.

  “Not at all.” I slid into the seat, then took his hand and tugged him down next to me.

  His gaze rested on where I touched him, then slid slowly up my arm, over my shoulder, and clashed with mine. For a second, I couldn’t even breathe. The hesitation was gone. Now all I saw was raw desire.

  I sucked in a breath and dug my fingernails into his wrist. His eyes grew stormier, and for a second I thought he was going to do me right there on the bench. I think I would have let him.

  What the hell?

  Single for a few days and this happens. It wasn’t like me, and I knew it had to be Grant’s betrayal that had me thinking that way. Revenge burned in my gut.

  “So, Fancy, Bambi just told me you both are dancers?”

  Ryan’s voice tugged at me from somewhere inside the fantasy building in my head. I blinked. Seth moved his hand, the one I was still holding on to, and rested his fingers around the top of my thigh.

  I felt claimed. Wanted. Grant never touched me with this kind of possessiveness. Every feminist bone in my body screamed that it should feel wrong, but the woman inside loved it too much to make him stop.

  My breath hitched, and I fought the insane urge to cover his hand and slide it higher.

  After weeks of feeling like the biggest fool on the planet, something else took its place.

  I glanced at Shari, who had a strange look on her face. She tilted her head. Everything okay? We might just be playing a game, but if I gave the signal, she’d get up and leave with me in a heartbeat.

  I took my drink in my free hand and swallowed a mouthful. I needed to get back into my role. “Yes, we just moved here.”

  Seth’s thumb stroked my leg, and electric shocks danced from the spot. My skin felt too tight. I swallowed another mouthful of fruit juice and vodka. He’s doing it because he thinks you’re easy. Strippers always are.

  Knowing that didn’t change the way his touch felt on my leg, though.

  �
��So what do you do, Ryan? Something with your hands I’m sure.” Shari ran her fingers up and down Ryan’s arm, and she looked at him from under her eyelashes. It was her go-to move, and it worked every time. Guys ate it up.

  “Construction,” he said. He leaned in closer to Shari. “I’m very good with my hands. Would be glad to show you anytime.”

  I knew that look in her eyes. “How about right now?”

  So much for getting drunk. My horny best friend was skipping out on me already.

  Shari batted her eyelashes at Seth. “Would you be a doll and take Fancy here home? We can take my car,” she said to Ryan. Her hand moved under the table and his eyes got very big. “How far is your place?”

  His mouth fell open a little. “Seriously?” When Shari nodded, he tossed the keys onto the table and pushed out of the booth. “You don’t mind, do you?” Even I could see the pleading in his eyes as he looked down at Seth.

  Seth turned to look at me. “You okay with this?”

  “Not a problem at all,” I said. I lifted my glass toward the happy couple and took a large swallow. At least she left me with company tonight.

  “See you in the morning,” Shari said, finger waving me over her shoulder.

  After they disappeared, the silence between me and Seth stretched.

  “Whoa.” He kind of shook his head like he was coming out of a daze.

  “That is some kind of record, even for her.” Laughter spilled from me, and I saw Seth smile. God, he had a nice smile. I tried not to stare too much.

  “I’d apologize for my friend, but . . . well . . .” He looked so bewildered staring at where Ryan and Shari disappeared.

  I leaned a little closer, so he could hear me over the music, or so I told myself. “I think they are a lot alike.”

  He chuckled and lifted the glass to his lips.

  I watched him swallow and had a crazy urge to press my lips against the spot on his neck. God, I’d never been like this. Shari sometimes talked about being so horny she’d hump a light pole, but I always thought she was kidding.

  I eyed Seth’s muscular thigh. Maybe for just a few minutes . . .

  “I think you’re right. So, do you come here a lot?” he asked, interrupting my lascivious thoughts.