Page 103 of The Fix

It’s a soft pink that’s super pretty and not at all what I’m used to.

“You’re still leaving?” Aria asks over the bass of the heavy music drowning out most other conversations, hence the head on a swivel.

Not to mention the showpieces on each table.

“Of course I am.” I shrug and bring the glass back up to my lips, careful of the color as I sip the fruity concoction Cedar brought to our table. “Leo will be fine. So if he put you up to this, you can stop.”

Aria snorts and Cedar’s shoulder bumps into me when she shrugs.

“It’s just us being nosey bitches, is what it is,” Cedar responds as she raises her glass and sways with the beat of the music, her eyes lifted to the space above us.

“She’s not wrong,” Aria says on a snicker and shoots back the rest of her drink. “We are nosey and thirsty.”

I tip my head back and laugh, the warmth of the liquor I’ve already consumed loosening my inhibitions and swirling around in my chest.

I can even feel it in my face already.

“At least you two have thirst-quenchers at home,” I mutter low enough that I hope they don’t hear, but Cedar’s guffaw is a dead giveaway that at least she did.

“A talllllll drink of water in the desert, baby!” Cedar exclaims with a grin and downs the rest of her drink.

“So why are we watching dudes shake their stuff in our faces?” I motion with my cup-holding hand to the rather attractive men taking up several tables, including ours, with nothing but strings covering their groins.

Literally nothing has been left to my imagination and the guy dancing all over our table is blessed.

“It’s the closest we’ll ever get to another cock,” Aria explains around the straw between her bright red lips. “You on the other hand …”

I feel the flush hit me before she even finishes her statement, the look in her eyes screaming mischief despite my shaking head. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

Aria’s grin mirrors in her best friend when I turn to her for help. “Drink up, buttercup. We already bought you a show.”

I’m still shaking my head when Aria tips my elbow up, the glass meeting my lips and as soon as the liquor is gone, I’m being pulled by my wrist to another part of the club.

Colored light dance across the walls, highlighting the people, only single spotlight illuminating the dancers at their stations.

Thankfully, we’re heading away from the thick of the people, but that just means that Aria wasn’t kidding at all.

Because back here are the private rooms.

The bouncer at the hall’s entrance doesn’t even check our ID’s, just nods the two of them along despite my protests and clearly restrained nature.

Had I been sober for any of this, I probably would have given it some more fight. Some resilience. But I’m not and I don’t.

In fact, I’m laughing when the two women push me into the single seat in the room sat directly in front of the small, lifted platform and step back as if to flank me.

“What if he’s a serial killer?” I call after them, too loudly now that the closed door has cut off some of the noise.

“Oh, honey, we’re not leaving.” Cedar’s snicker has me turning around in the chair, her hand extended with another glass that she’s offering to me.

“We came to fucking watch,” Aria adds and I wrinkle my nose.

“Ew.”

Aria snorts and shakes her head. “You don’t get to have sex in here, Anna, Jesus.”

I plop back down in my chair, my smile amped up, my pits too sweaty.

That answers that.

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