Page 122 of Rush of Jealousy

I scrunch up my face over her prideful joy. “Yeah, it turned out horribly.”

“No. No, it did not. We managed to make Teddy Graham jealous, which in turn made him extra obsessive,” she says, waving her hands wildly through the air to emphasize each point. “Which in turn helped you achieve the most mind-blowing orgasms of your life.”

I look at her as she rattles off all of her event dominoes as if she were the mastermind behind all of Graham’s actions. Leave it to Claire to take credit for a bunch of coincidences.

She shrugs. “See? You owe me actually.”

“Owe you?”

“Yuppers. You owe me big.”

“And how am I going to repay you?”

She rubs her hands together. “Come exercise with me.”

I look at her suspiciously. This doesn’t seem like a great way to pay her back, which makes me speculate that this is not just a normal treadmill or stairclimber workout. “What is the title of this class?”

“It’s a pool class.”

“So I need a swimsuit?”

“Sure. But let me pick it out.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Obviously. You owe me,” she says cockily. “Oh, and because I am the generator of the best ideas.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

23

“Why are we not going to the indoor pool area?” I ask stupidly. This is happening again. She tricked me. I can feel it in my bones.

“Just chill and follow me. You’ll love this.”

I grind my teeth together. “Love what? You haven’t been very clear.”

“Life is all about surprises and taking chances. It’s good for the soul.”

“So is honesty,” I point out, making her sigh.

I follow Claire into another studio room that is dimly lit and has black sheer curtains pooled on the floor below the windows. This is an all-female class and relatively small compared to the Zumba class we attended together. Large metal poles are sporadically placed, spanning from the floor to the ceiling. I stare at them. And then it hits me…

“Claire!”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“Oh no. No. No. No. You said pool.”

“Spelled P-O-L-E.”

“You cannot be serious. We are pole dancing?”

“It’s a surprisingly great workout.”

“I’m wearing a two-piece!” My coverup is partially see-through. Underneath I have a solid black, conservative two-piece suit. It looks more like a dance outfit with the boy shorts and tank bustier. But still.

“We can hit the swimming pool up afterwards. But look around,” she says, sweeping her hand out in a fanning motion. “You will see other girls wearing much less. So chill your butt cheeks.”

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