Page 34 of Last Round

“Where’s the rest of it?” I ask, while eyeing the fishnet material like it might reach out and bite me.

“Just wear it over your bra. I do it all the time.”

“I’m not wearing a bra…” A benefit of not having a large chest and being born with built-in support is that bras are usually optional.

“No problem.” Dani turns and digs into her locker again.

“If you’re looking to grab me a bra, I hope you realize we aren’t exactly the same cup size.” If I had to guess, she’s a D pushing DD. My itty-bitty Bs aren’t going to even register in whatever she has.

“Fortunately,theseare universal.” She hands me a box of black X-shaped pasties.

“Oh my god, you weren’t kidding,” Bex says, walking into the room. She studies the objects in my hands. “Are you going to wear those?”

“Black is the uniform,” Dani comments with a shrug.

“Oh my god.” Bex jumps excitedly. “I mean, I’ve gotten you to wear some pretty out-there clothing options recently. But damn… heads are going to explode. Hold on. Let’s switch skirts.”

“What’s wrong with mine?” I glance down, feeling a bit self-conscious about my fashion sense. We went shopping the other day, and Bex seemed to like it then.

“Nothing, hun. Just denim with embroidered flowers kind of throws the whole thing into a different tone.”

“I agree,” Dani chimes in. Rubbing her chin, she looks between Bex and me. “Are you guys the same shoe size?”

“Yes!” Bex squeals her reply before I can say anything. Clearly she and Dani are on the same wavelength.

“Great! Sounds like you got this handled. I better get out there before all hell breaks loose.”

“Bex, I can’t wear this. It’s too much,” I confess the second Dani’s gone. For only being a couple of inches taller than me, she’s very intimidating. She’s always confident in everything she does. Bex too. I wish I had an ounce of their self-assurance.

“Or not enough, depending on how you look at it.” Bex waggles her eyebrows.

“Seriously, I can’t walk out there in a micro miniskirt, with nothing but pasties covering my nipples, and red break-my-neck heels. I’m waiting tables. My feet are going to be dead in like two seconds.”

“You wanted to get Killian’s attention tonight, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but this is too much,” I repeat.It isn’t me either.

“If I weren’t wearing a red top, I’d give you mine.”

I remain silent as I stare down at the scraps of fabric in my hands.

“Look, we can tell Dani you need to run home and change before starting. You’re doing them a favor. It isn’t like you’re late or anything.”

The crowd roars as Dani makes some sort of announcement. There aren’t loudspeakers back here, so I can’t make out what she’s saying.

“No, it’s too busy.” I shake my head, defeat weighing on my shoulders. “They need help now.”

“Then it’s settled.” Bex strips off her skirt and shoes.

“Okay, but you need to help me with these.” I dangle the adhesive strips in her face.

“I hate heels,” I grumble as I walk out to the bar and pull down the back of my skirt. It covers my ass, sure, but I wore a thong. It feels like everyone is staring at my ass cheeks, even though I know they can’t see them… unless I bend, squat, or do anything to shift the barely there skirt. Bex offered to swap underwear too, but that was starting to push a line I’m not ready to cross… even with my BFF.

“You look amazing,” Bex assures me. She waves down a couple of people we know. “I’m going to snag a seat over there.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek and runs off.

A massive crowd is gathered around the stage. Music lowered, the room is filled with sounds of people counting in unison. Chelsea is taking advantage of the distraction and resting back against a surprisingly empty bar. Not only are patrons missing, but so are all our bartenders.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I approach.

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