Page 20 of Who's Your Daddy?

“How about we start the night off with a drinking game?” Tommy suggests after gulping down his champagne. He’s boisterous and eccentric, so I already know how this game is going to go. “Pete, did you bring the tequila?”

“Got it right here.” I hand him the bottle he asked me to bring, along with a saltshaker and a plate of sliced lime.

“Alright,” Tommy begins with a wide smirk. “So, I’m going to ask both of you a few questions. You get it wrong; you take a shot. You get it right, the rest of us take a shot.” He takes out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Dylan, you’ll go first. Okay, what is Isabella’s weirdest sex kink?”

Scott almost chokes on his laughter. “Diving right in there, Tommy. You’re not gonna even ease them into it? That’s going hard-core with no lube.”

“Lube is for sissies, Scotty.” He turns back to Isabella. “And you better bite the pillow, bitch, because I am going indry!” His eyes return to Dylan. “I’m waiting.”

“Um...I don’t know how to answer that. Isabella and I haven’t had sex yet because...we’re waiting for marriage.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Dylan, nobody in this car believes that bullshit, and I would like to inform you that refusal to answer results in two shots.”

“Fine. It’s, uh...” He gives a nervous laugh before clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, Brock...from... from Lawng Island. I’m not explaining that to anyone, but that’s her kink. Nothing turns her on more than that.” He gives Isa a nod with the kind of dorky suave that only Dylan possesses. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Tommy slaps me on the back when she erupts with giggles. “Pete, pour us all a round. Dylan is absolutely right! It’s fucking Brock from Long Island.”

All of us knock back a shot of tequila before Tommy continues with the game. “IzzyB, who is Dylan’s hall pass?”

“Oh! I know this one. Anna Kendrick.”

“Correct! Another round, Pete.”

Tommy continues firing questions at them, and they know each other so well that it doesn’t take long for me to feel the effects of the tequila.

“Alright, Izzy,” Tommy says, “what is the biggest heartbreak that Dylan still hasn’t gotten over?”

“Hmm...” She looks at Dylan, trying to figure out what it could be. “Well, we’ve worked through a lot of our issues in therapy, so I don’t think it’s the heartbreak I caused...right?”

I’m surprised that he nods because this chick has put him through the absolute worst back in high school. There’s a reason they were in therapy.

“So, if it’s not me...then I’m going to take a wild guess and say...it’s Justin and Selena’s break up.”

“No!” I stare at him in disbelief even though I actually believe that. “Dyl, please tell me that’s not true.”

“Pete, it hurts me to this day,” he replies, sounding somber. “A part of me still wishes that they’d get back together.”

I turn to Scott, and our collective disappointment seems insurmountable at this moment. “How are we friends with this guy?”

“Fuck, if I know, Pete.”

We must be about six shots down by the time we arrive atGrit. This place is more suited to Isabella’s and Tommy’s tastes. They like the raw, raunchy setup of this club. The low red lighting makes it seem more like a strip club than a nightclub, but they love the music, so they come here at least once a month. It’s only my second time here, but the amount of eye candy floating around me as I enter makes me wonder why I haven’t joined them more often.

My vision is assaulted (in the best way) with short skirts and high heels. It’s just a sea of smooth skin and cleavage. We pass the VIP section on our way to the bar, and I catch a glimpse of what’s going on behind the thick red velvet curtains. Women are showing a lot more skin in there. Maybe there’s a reason it looks like a strip club. I peer closer and spot a hot blonde swirling around a pole. Yeah, that’s the kind of party I want to have tonight.

“Wow!” I curl my arm around Scott’s neck, pulling him closer so he can hear me over the music. “Did you see the women here tonight? Why don’t we get some drinks, then see if we can get into that VIP section? I need to see some tits tonight because Dylan doesn’t know what a proper bachelor party is supposed to be like.”

Scott merely chuckles but doesn’t give me a concrete response. After another round of drinks, we attempt to burn off some of our drunken energy on the dance floor. Despite all my complaining earlier, I gotta admit, I’m still having a lot of fun. Then again, my friends can make any situation fun. It actually feels just like it did in high school.

Scott and Cat have put aside their differences for the night and are dancing together like they used to. Dylan and Isabella are staring adoringly at each other as they sway to the beat just like they used to do, too. And Tommy has disappeared to make friends with random strangers. He was always my plus one for any and all group activities when we were younger, my wingman, the buffer that made going out with couples slightly less unbearable. But now he’s gone and I’m beginning to feel like the fifth wheel, the same way I used to feel in high school. It’s at that point that I decide it’s time to explore the VIP section.

I tap Scott on the shoulder to let him know that I’ll be back in an hour, then move through the crowd back to the entrance where the VIP lounge is located. Because I’m not on the guest list, I have to pay to get in, but it’s worth every penny for the lewd, filthy acts happening behind the curtain.

I’m greeted by a topless waitress who hands me a whiskey as I enter. She grabs me by the belt and leads me to a secluded area on the side of the room. Two blondes surround me before I even sit down. One starts dancing on the pole directly in front of me, while the other sits down beside me, stroking her nails seductively up my thigh. She introduces herself as Imogen, and I wonder if that’s her real name or her stripper name.

“What kind of entertainment are you looking for tonight, sir?”

“I’m just here to watch.”

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