Page 59 of Safe and Sound

A sheepish look came over Quinn’s face. “Something I heard Isla talking to Caterina about.”

“Jaysus, you’re fanny whipped.”

“I couldn’t help overhearing.”

“So what does it mean?”

“Well, at its worst it’s doing a lot of attention and affection to gain control of someone. But at its basic, it’s like you come on too strong.”

“You think I scared her away?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you should try to reach out to her and find out what happened?”

“Great minds think alike. Vera found her address for me.”

While Callum chuckled, Quinn bobbed his head. “Good for you. If you really like her, fight for her.”

Winking, I said, “Trust me, boyo. I’m taking out all the stops.”

“Just don’t lovebomb her,” Callum teased.

“Hey, all my attention, affection, and possible gifts won’t be manipulation. They’ll be because I mean it.”

“Just be careful.”

“You know I will.”

For reasons I didn’t understand, Callum and Quinn didn’t look convinced.

Chapter Thirteen: Ava

As I stared at my heavily lined eyes and glittery purple eyeshadow in the mirror, I shook my head. “I’m getting too old for this.”

Lexie snickered as she rolled on lipstick. “You’re not too old until your tits are at your knees.”

I snorted. “That’sthe only parameter we have when we give up dancing at the restaurant?”

Wrinkling her nose, Lexie replied, “Can you think of any better ones?”

“Yeah, like when you hit thirty, you’re done.” Motioning to my intricately beaded gold and purple costume, I replied, “No more belly dancing.”

“With your banging body, you’re not even close to being done,” Lexi remarked.

Every year for the Greek festival, my parents went all out with the Greek regalia. We dressed in traditional costumes. For the young women in my family, that meant performing as belly dancers.

For most of my youth, I loved dancing on tables, twirling napkins, and breaking plates. I even enjoyed all the money that would get placed into the waistband of my costume. But tonight was seriously going to be my last time. Next year I was hanging up my provocative belly dancer attire and donning the Corfu style the older women wore.

Dani motioned me with her curling iron. “Sit down, and let me do your hair.”

“Fine,” I grunted. When I plopped down in the chair, I winced. Despite a dose of Advil and an ice pack, my vagina was still ached and not in a good way..

With a snicker, Dani said, “Are you sore?”

“Unfortunately yes.”

“Too big or too much use?”

“Both.”

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