Page 32 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“You been there?”
“Once.”
“Only once?”
“Yeah, I took my niece to Disney World.”
“Cute.”
Puppies and babies are cute. Grogu is cute. Chaperoning my sister and her daughter to Disney World because I’d never be able to take my own daughter is definitelynotcute.
About to call it a night and finish my deck walk, I chug my beer and set down the empty plastic cup on the bar when Ben shoves another one into my hand.
“Let’s grab a booth,” he says. “I can’t hear a fucking thing here.”
Brittany point to the back of the room. “There’s an empty one over there.”
If I could hear her friend over the godawful racket, I’d bet my left nut she just groaned… like me.
Why did I agree to this?
Trudging behind them through the crowd of dance monkeys to the far end of the club, I contemplate my odds of successfully slipping away when Brittany latches onto my shirt.
“We nearly lost you,” she says.
“Yeah, nearly.” I stand back and let them slide into the crescent banquette so I can sit at the end and escape when the time is right.
“So, what’s your names?” Ben asks them.
When Brittany’s friend doesn’t respond, she answers for her. “I’m Brittany, and this is Whitney.”
“Brittany and Whitney?” He grins, all teeth. “That’s hot.” He stretches his arms out and not so subtly drapes one behind Whitney’s back. “I’m Horse.”
Laughter bubbles in my throat, but I stifle it.
“Uh…” Whitney stiffens, her eyes damn near popping out of her head. “I’m gonna dance. Britt, you comin’?”
She practically shoves Brittany onto my lap as she tries to scoot back out of the booth, and if I were an evil fucker, I’d stop stifling and laugh my head off, and then laugh some more. But I’m not evil, so I bite the inside of my cheek and stand up instead, enabling Whitney’s escape.
“Wanna dance?”Brittany asks me.
“Nah. Got two left feet.”
She pouts again, and I wonder if she’s got some involuntary issue with her lips. Krystal got some shit injected into hers once, and she looked sulky for weeks.
“Okay, Mr. Two-Left-Feet. I’ll be right back.”
I nod but plan to be gone before that happens.
“She wants me,” Ben says as I take a seat again.
“Who?”
“Whitney.”
This time, I do laugh. “What makes you say that?”
“Look at the way she’s shaking her ass for me.”
