Page 20 of Indigo Sky

"Anyway, I'm taking you out tonight," he went on. "We're gonna hit up that club in Turner's Point."

I swiveled quickly to pin him with my incredulous glare. "That's a strip club."

His grin was mischievous and taunting. "So?"

"I'm not going to some sleazy strip club to get laid." I rolled my eye and dumped my bowl in the sink to wash when I got home later. "Thanks anyway."

"Fine. You don't have to get laid," he griped like it was his arm being twisted. "But I wanna go, and you're gonna come with me."

I wet my hands with water from the faucet and raked my fingers through my mess of hair. No matter what I did with it, I could never manage to look like anything but Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine. It was funny how menacing I looked with the unruly hair and the eyepatch while Nate had this clean-cut, pretty-boy thing going on. The guy was anything but.

Or maybe that was the thing. He had the looks to get away with shit. Nobody would think he could be guilty of anything with his good looks.

It’s unfortunate that I never stopped to realize just how much of a problem that would eventually be.

"So, what do you say?" Nate asked from behind me.

"Fine," I grumbled, pushing away from the sink and grabbing my keys from the counter. "But only for a little while."

He flashed me a blinding grin. "That's all I want."

***

"Whereare you going?" Mom asked again over the phone, her voice a little shrill, a little disbelieving.

"Susan, he's twenty-two years old," Dad grumbled from somewhere else in the house. "He can go wherever the hell he wants."

I sighed as I pulled into a spot not far from a bright, neon sign. Midnight Lotus didn't look much like a strip club from its tasteful brick exterior. The brick patio, guarded by a bouncer in black, was illuminated with strings of lights. I mean, it all seemed a lot classier than I felt inside, knowing what awaited me beyond those blacked-out windows.

And just to be clear, I didn'tlovetelling my mom about where I was going either. But I'd always been taught to tell someone about your whereabouts, what you were doing … all that Safety 101 shit, you know.

"Nate asked me to meet him here," I explained, not wanting to explain at all. "He wanted to check it out, but he didn't wanna go alone, so …"

And, no, I didn't particularly feel like I needed to make excuses to my parents. I was making excuses to myself. And I didn’t really know what that was about. I guessed maybe … maybe the thought of walking into a public situation where I knew I was gonna get turned on, in a roomful of other people who were also turned on, weirded me the fuck out. Like, boners as a group activity always skeeved me out. Still does. I dunno. Maybe it's just me. But anyway …

"All right," Mom said, dismissing the topic like it was as dirty as I felt. "Well, text us when you're on your way home."

"Will do."

"Have fun," Dad threw in, teasing in his tone.

"Oh, yeah," I grumbled sarcastically. "Loads of fun."

Like I’d said, getting a boner while hanging out with my best friend and roommate … not on my list of preferred hobbies.

I hung up the phone and got out of the car. Nate's beat-up, old truck was already in the parking lot, along with a dozen other vehicles. The place was jumping. The bouncer asked for my ID at the velvet rope. He took it from me and gave it a good look.

When he handed it back, he asked, "Can I ask what happened?" He gestured to his own right eye.

"Firework blew up in my face," I said, tucking my wallet back into my pocket.

He grunted and nodded. "That sucks. When'd it happen?"

"I was eight."

His expression changed from intrigue to surprise as he uttered, "Damn. Just a kid. Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, it was a long time ago," I said, not bothering to mention that I still had nightmares about it from time to time.

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