Page 73 of Leave

Matt grinned. “Sweet!” He tipped his glass toward Riley. “You bringing him too?”

I glanced at Riley, who was looking at me like,“it’s your call.”To my brothers, I said, “You guys want us both to come?”

“Are you kidding?” Andrew rolled his eyes. “Yeah, man. Please don’t bringafucking Sailorto go partying with us.”

I turned to Riley again. “You game?”

“Fuck yeah.” He flashed a shit-eating grin. “Don’t know if these civilians can keep up with us, but—”

“Ooh, he’s got jokes,” Andrew said. “You talk a good game. Guess we’ll find out on Friday night.”

Riley shrugged and brought his drink up to his lips. “Guess we will.”

“You sure you can handle this?” Tristan, one of Matt’s groomsmen, teased as we crossed the parking lot. “Gonna be a whole lotta tits and ass without a dick in sight.”

“I don’t know about that.” I inclined my head. “I’m looking at a dick right now.”

“Oooh,” all the other guys said in unison, including Riley.

Tristan chuckled and rolled his eyes as he flipped me off. “Fuck you, Jarhead.”

I just laughed.

At the door to the strip club, we all paid the cover—though obviously Matt didn’t have to pay for his—and we were shown to a VIP booth. It was a horseshoe-shaped bench surrounding a round table with a pole in the middle, and we also had an unobstructed view of the main stage at the center of the room.

This place was a typical strip club. A lot of shadows and colorful flashing lights. Waitresses falling out of their tops. Bouncers who looked like they could break any of us in half and would do so at the slightest provocation. A deejay in a douchey sideways hat and a T-shirt from some band I’d never heard of.

It really wasn’t my scene and never had been. I didn’t even enjoy male strip clubs, mostly because they were too loud and too full of drunk idiots.

But this was my little brother’s bachelor party, and I was bound and determined to have a good time.

Our asses had barely landed in the booth before Andrew ordered a round of shots. A waitress arrived almost immediately with a tray of shot glasses, each full of something that might’ve been whiskey or rum. It was hard to tell in this light.

When I threw mine back—yeah, there was rum along with some kind of way-too-sweet liqueur. Probably a house special with a ridiculous double entendre for a name. Wasn’t bad, but a bit sweet for my liking.

Riley peered at his empty shot glass. “Was there even alcohol in that?” He looked at me. “Did you get booze? Because I think I got apple juice or some shit.”

I snickered. “Too weak for your Sailor palate?” I gestured with my own glass. “Itwaspretty tame.”

“Yeah, here we go,” Andrew said. “The Sailor and the Marine think they’re gonna drink us all under the table.”

“Nah.” Riley shook his head. “Only one I want under this table is…” He patted my chest.

Andrew and Matt both laughed. Tristan took a second to catch up, and then he joined in. Chase, the other groomsman, still looked confused.

Tristan helpfully clarified, “He wants his boyfriend to go under the table and—”

“Ooh,” Chase said. “Got it.” He laughed, though he seemed mildly uncomfortable. Less like he was offended and more like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh.

I chuckled and bumped Riley with my shoulder. “Maybe you should get under there. Lead by example and all that.”

“Oh my God,” Matt groaned. “I’m telling Mom!”

That got everyone, including Chase, laughing.

“And you think this shit is weak?” Andrew held up his empty glass and jiggled it at Riley. “How about you order the next round?”

Riley shrugged. “All right. Who’s game for shooting tequila?”

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