Page 62 of The Price of Forever

“Of course.”

“Holy shit. She’s like…good.” His mind was blown. “The shit she does on that pole? Dude, you could have warned me.”

“I told you she’s the best stripper there is. So did she rub on you?”

The question seemed to confuse him. “Wh—”

“Did you ask for the special move?”

“I did.”

“So did she grind on your lap? Take your pants off? Bring out a vibrator?”

Trojan lifted his palms, laughing a little. “Whoa, man. Are you telling me all of that was supposed to be part of the package?”

I raked a hand through my hair. “It’s what happened when she invited me in there last week. She claimed it was a new routine for exclusive clients, but I think it’s bullshit. That’s why I needed you to go test it.”

“I asked for the special move like you asked. I pushed it a few times—she just kept brushing it off, saying I’d be perfectly happy with her regular routine, because it was all special. When I offered her extra money for a little something extra physical, she just laughed. She didn’t even touch me.”

I crossed my arms, stewing over this information. All of my vital organs unclenched. I could breathe easily now. Yet somehow, this was all so much more complicated now.

Because Jordan had lied about testing out a new move.

“To be honest, I could have gotten off without her even touching me,” Trojan continued.

I pressed my forearm against his chest, backing him up against the wall. “That’s enough.”

A shit-eating grin spread across his face. He lifted his palms in submission. “Just doing my job, buddy. The one you sent me in there to do. Remember?”

I grunted, standing down. He straightened his shirt, adding, “So is this the proof you needed? You’re officially in love with her. And it sounds like she’s in love with you too. Great. They have another term for this, and it’s career suicide.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I didn’t have it in me to correct him about his use of the L-word. I didn’t even know what I’d say to defend myself at this point. Jordan had already consumed me; now I was roping in my friends to prove something I didn’t fully want to acknowledge.

“I told you to get laid,” Trojan said. “You clearly did not listen to instructions.”

“I haven’t had time.”

“Well, I’m in town now. You’ll make time.”

I wanted to fuck someone’s brains out, that much was true. But it wasn’t a random girl.

“I’ll be here with Jordan until at least one in the morning,” I told him. “You’re welcome to stay. Like I said, drinks are on me. I appreciate you doing my dirty work.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Any time, brother.”

“I’ll hit you up tomorrow,” I told him. “We can figure out the plan.”

“I already know the plan. Rib eyes and a fuck-ton of alcohol. And then I’m getting you under some sweet little thang. I’ll start crawling the dating apps now.”

“Do not catfish some poor girl in the name of my dick,” I pleaded.

“It won’t be catfishing,” he assured me. “I have your pretty mug on my camera roll, and I know you well enough to pose as you. I could fool your own mother.”

“Not fair. She’s got dementia and lives in a nursing home.”

“You know what I mean.”

I gave him the shove I’d been holding back, sending him on his way, then I headed back to my post outside the VIP room.

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