Page 22 of Indigo Sky

"The show is this way, asswipe." He pointed at the dancer as she lowered her ass all the way to the ground, spreading her knees wide.

I crossed my arms on the table, taking quick peeks at the dancer, then taking quicker peeks over my shoulder. Nate made commentary in my ear as she moved around the stage. Salacious things. Things that would've had my mom slapping him upside the head. Things that I wished he'd kept to himself instead of rattling them off like he was reading from one of my mom's dirty books.

"God, yeah," he groaned a little too lasciviously for my liking. "Look at that ass, man. Jesus, fuck, look at how—"

"Sorry about that," a cheery voice said hurriedly over my shoulder, and a tall glass of beer was put on the table in front of me. "One Blue Moon, on the house."

I turned to look at the woman whose smile seemed to hold the beauty of the moon and sun combined. Her grin broadened when my gaze met hers, and, shit, was she fucking beautiful. Vivid blue eyes. Bright pink hair. Full, rosy lips. She could've passed for one of the girls in the Victoria's Secret catalogs I used to swipe from my mom. Abso-fuckin'-lutely perfect in every definition of the word.

Her wide grin softened, her lips closing over straight white teeth. "You're wrong about the light bulbs," she said softly, then bit her bottom lip.

I raised an eyebrow, resting my arm on the back of my chair. How was it that the entire world seemed to stop when she was around? Like there was nobody here but her and me.

"Oh?" I asked, lifting one side of my mouth into a smirk.

"Yeah," she replied, nodding and resting her hand beside my arm, her fingers barely grazing my skin, but there they were. "I usually make a complete ass of myself when talking to cute guys, but it was so dark that I—"

"Hey!" Nate's arm came around my chair to smack her directly on her skirt-covered ass. "Can I get a beer over here?"

Her smile dropped in an instant, and I swiveled to level him with a glare that should've killed him on the spot. I opened my mouth to rip into him when she hurried to pull her notepad from the waistband of her skirt.

"Sorry," she said, plucking a pen from behind her ear. "What can I get you?"

He ordered his beer, and she walked away without another word.

Nate rolled his eyes. "Fucking bitch didn't even notice me," he murmured.

"You didn't have to be a dick," I fired back.

A flash of anger crossed his face as his eyebrows lowered. "I wouldn't have been a dick if she hadn't been a bitch—how about that?"

"She was talking tome."

"Yeah, well, she fucking ignoredme. And don't go thinking she gives a fuck about you, okay? Get that out of your head. Bitch was doing her job—that's it. Probably hoping you're pathetic enough to pay for a private dance or some shit."

Red-hot anger dropped over me like a heavy blanket in the dead of winter. This asshole had dragged me out after I had insisted I didn't want to go, under the guise of getting me laid for whatever fucking reason, and now,Iwas pathetic? Because one of the girls working hadtalkedto me?

"You know what, Nate? You’d better get the stick out of your ass now, or I swear to God, I'm going home. This was your idea, not—"

"No, no. You're right," he cut me off, blowing out a deep breath. "Come on. We're having fun. This chick"—he pointed hisfinger and wagged it toward the blonde, gyrating her hips for some dudes a few tables down—"I might have to get a dance from her. She's fuckin' smokin', man."

"Yeah." I grabbed my glass and brought it to my lips, barely glancing at the girl onstage. "She's hot."

"Hey, if you want, I'll get you a dance too."

"Nah, I'm good." I took a sip, watching the show from over the rim.

"No, no, no. We are here to get you some action. So, if you like her, we can share. I don't—"

"Here's your Bud." The sun came out again when the girl with the pink hair appeared beside Nate, placing a glass in front of him. "Can I get you guys—"

"Holy fuck," Nate muttered with an approving groan that caused my fist to clench. "Nice rack, gorgeous."

The smile she gave him was different from the one she had given me. Sure, she could've just been polite toward me, but it wasn't forced. This … this was forced. He made her uncomfortable—I couldn't blame her—and it pissed me the fuck off.

"Thank you, handsome," she replied. "Anyway, if you don't need—"

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. An intake of breath hitched in my throat, and I readied myself to lunge at him.

---