Page 88 of The Girlfriend Zone

I turn off the phone when I arrive at Upside Down, grateful for the chance to spend time with my girl gang, working on new pole tricks at the studio Everly owns and dances at. I haven’t seen much of them since I’ve been working so hard, and I need the girl time.

I’m not a regular at pole like Everly or even Josie, but I like to go once a week. I’m not wild about the floor work—choreography isn’t my thing—but I love doing the tricks on the pole. They take strength, and that’s my jam.

As a new instructor named Jewel demonstrates a spin while blasting a sultry tune, I have to watch her moves more closely than usual. It’s hard to hear her instructions over the music. No, make that impossible.

I could ask her to turn it down, but this is a me problem. I don’t want to draw attention to it. Besides, this is an opportunity to figure it out using my other senses.

My eyes.

I study her every move carefully and then imitate her. On the first try, I nail the move. Yes! It feels incredible to be strong enough to pull this off, to hang upside down with my hair spilling toward the floor.

Briefly, I wonder what Miles would think if he could see me like this. A sly smile creeps across my lips, knowing he’d probably lose his mind.

He’d stare hotly, like he did at our boudoir session, his eyes locked on me, waiting patiently for the moment I’d finish—just so he could close the distance between us, claim my lips, and murmur that I’m incredible.

I feel kind of incredible—both from the thrill of this fantasy and the satisfaction of nailing this move.

Maybe it doesn’t matter that I can’t always make out the instructor’s words. I have a rich interior life, and really, that has to be enough.

When class ends, I leave with my friends, Everly praising us for the progress we’ve all made over the past year.

“Are you all still enjoying class?” she asks, clearly hoping we’ll say yes.

Nerves race through me. I could mention the music volume to her. This is my chance, but something stops me. I don’t want to make my issue someone else’s issue. I have a workaround, and that’s good enough.

“I’m loving the tricks,” I say.

“You’re so good at them. The dance stuff not so much?”

“Not really, but I do understand it’s the foundation.”

“I like the floor stuff since I’m least likely to break all my bones on the floor,” Josie chimes in brightly.

Everly laughs, and Fable nods toward our favorite diner at the end of the block. “Does anyone want to take this into Moon Over Milkshakes?”

“Anything to keep me out of my own apartment,” I say, jumping at the chance—even if the music is blasting there too.

Josie pats me on the back as we walk. “We love being your escape pod from your roomies.”

“What’s the latest with them?” Everly asks with some concern.

I sigh. “They either fuck or fight. The other night, I came home to Indigo giving a detailed, painfulmonologue about how running out of mustard reminds her of childhood loss.”

Maeve rolls her eyes. “I get that we all have emotional wounds, but you can’t use them as crutches for everything in your life. Sometimes you just have to deal when there’s no fucking mustard,” she says, yanking open the door to the retro-themed diner.

Exactly.

Which is why I don’t ask the pole instructor—or the diner—to lower the music. Sometimes you just have to deal.

After we slide into a booth, a server pops over.

“I’ll take a chocolate milkshake as big as my head and the large fries,” I say.

When everyone else orders, Josie shoots me a sympathetic look. “As big as your head? You really need to numb the pain of your roomies, don’t you, friend?”

“I do,” I say, but the time with them does the trick—eating, gabbing, playing with Maeve’s tarot cards, and catching up. When it’s my turn to share, I tell them about my growing business.

“Get it, girl,” Everly says with a shimmy.

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