Page 112 of Crazy for this Girl

The guy that greeted me actually leans over and around my best friend to get another good look at me. “Aren’t you Laynee?”

What?

Regular maybe? I shake my head through my questioning of how he knows my damn name and reply with a simple, “Nope.”

“Yeah”—he wags a drunk finger at me and smiles broadly—“you were the waitress that would dance with anyone who played that song.”

Oh my God.

Khloe glances over at me and mutters without trying to move her lips. “What song?”

“Nelly something,” one of his buddies chimes in. “Something girl.”

Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado.

Long story short, Samantha started spreading word to college guys that I’d dance with them if they had the DJ play that song. It was because I was barely getting by with tips, since I was slow and overwhelmed. Word traveled quickly, and I never ever wanted to hear that song again for as long as I live because of it.

“I’m going to ask Suri,” another one of the guys adds.

I raise a hand and wave, dismissing myself from this super awkward conversation. “Well, okay, thanks, guys. Appreciate the five beers when there’s only two of us.”

I loop my arm with Khloe’s when one of the guys inserts, “Oh, we bought those for ourselves and two for you girls. I’m Taylor. I know I’ve danced with you before.”

Awesome.

A cell phone shows Taylor’s face, lighting up his features as the one holding it quickly says, “Dude, go ask him to play the song.”

I tug Khloe away, taking our out, and we make our way back to our stools that are surprisingly not taken.

“Thanks for that,” I tell her. “You just reminded me why I’m glad I quit this job. We gotta go.”

“Did you hear what he said?” she carps out, ignoring my last comment. “He wanted to dance with just you.”

I slide her drink away from her because it could’ve already been roofied. “Still wanna job here? You get hit with that all the time.”

“Yes,” she clips out. “I need my pride back.”

“You need a good man that makes you feel loved. Not some college sophomore who just turned twenty-one.”

She sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. “I’ve fallen from grace, Laynee.”

I chuckle lightly and pull her into my arms while I wave Jordan down to bring us fresh drinks. “There, there.” I pat her back gently. “We’ll make sure you go to a good nursing home with hot male medical assistance.”

“Promise?” she mutters into my shoulder.

“Promise.”

My best friend straightens her spine and lifts her chin, getting herself back together in one piece when the song I’ve dreaded comes on loud and perfectly clear.

Damn it.

“Wow…” Khloe looks over to the dance floor. “He was serious.”

“And, we should go.”

“Why?” She looks back at me. “Go live my dream. Tell me how it is.”

I slide off my seat and shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. My dancing days are over.”

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