“Hmm.” Claire mimicked his motions.
I glanced at Luke. “I can talk for myself, you know.”
“Uh huh,” he mumbled. “So, what’s up?”
I chose the least prominent thought in my mind. “My friend from work wants me to go to a strip club with him.”
“Has your friend met you?” Luke asked, his eyebrows high and his expression amused.
The bell from the entrance chimed overhead, and I ignored it.
“Don’t get me started,” I returned, holding up a hand. “Told him it wasn’t my scene—he does not care.”
Claire chuckled. “Tell him you’re not going—he can’t force you.”
I groaned. “He made this whole fuss about thinking I’m hung up on Alli.”
“Ooo,” Luke voiced with a cringe as he ran a hand through his typically well-coiffed brown hair. “Yeah, no.”
“Plus,” I added, “he already told the guy who suggested the place that I’d tag along.”
A high-pitched voice trilled from behind me, “Oop, catch us up,” and I didn’t even turn to view her, for I knew where she was intending to go.
Her usual seat was to my right, and Liam normally sat beside her, on her right. The blonde duo did as such, and Zoey’s tiny frame slid onto the barstool beside me.
Before I could answer, Claire spoke for me, “Jay’s work friend invited him out to a strip club.”
Liam let out a loud, “HA!” while Claire turned to grab his and Zoey’s usual drinks. His mop of hair was thrown back, an arm wrapped around his upper stomach as he laughed, and he beamed as he stated, “That’s funny.”
I watched as Zoey pressed her lips together to hold back her laugh, her green eyes shining at his amusement.
“You wanna sort him out?” I asked her in a grumble.
Zoey argued, “Hey, he’s not wrong. You in a strip club is hilarious. What are ya gonna do? Ask a stripper to go on a date before she gives you a dance?”
“I’m not going to ask for a dance,” I clarified, grabbing my glass and taking a quick sip. “I’ll get in, get out, get back home. It’s a visit of obligation.”
“Uh huh, sure,” Zoey countered as Claire slid her a bottle of cider and Liam a beer. “Which one you going to? Red Light? Gas Lamp? PT’s? Rifle Ralph’s?”
Liam lifted his beer, smiling widely at her until he took a drink.
“Are those real places?” I questioned. “The fuck is Rifle Ralph’s?”
“All very real,” Zoey noted. “Rifle Ralph’s is full nude—you should go to Rifle Ralph’s.”
I glanced at Liam. “Are you not concerned about how she knows this?”
“Nah,” he replied in a snicker. “We already had the talk. If she wants to apply for a job at a strip club, I told her I’d do the same—”
“And I do not want the housewives or housemen of this town or the ones surrounding it scraping their nails down his body, so that dream died about a millisecond after it was born,” Zoey quipped.
“Dirty Dan’s would’ve paid well,” Liam remarked quietly, and Zoey elbowed him hard enough in the ribcage for her dainty force to cause him to cough and giggle simultaneously.
Luke and Claire laughed at their exchange, the entrance dinged overhead once more, and I peeked toward it with a smile on my face. My smile fell away quickly, and I took a large sip of whiskey because Cassie had just walked in.
She was tall. For a woman, I suppose—five foot nine, maybe five foot ten. Her brown hair was straight—like a curtain of rain that fell from her head down to her waist and fuckin’ shimmered. Swear to God, it shimmered.
I mean, fuck, did she put glitter in it? I didn’t fuckin’ know—doesn’t matter.