I didn’t want Jared to see her. She looked like me, only better.
“I thought you weren’t worried,” Juliet said to Fallon.
Fallon shook her head, still watching the dancer. “Don’t serve me that shit now. You have great boobs.”
Juliet grinned, following the hostess. “Madoc likes yours,” she reassured Fallon. “Come on.”
The hostess sat us down in a semicircle booth of burgundy velvet with a black table and drapery tied back on both sides. A dim lamp hung from overhead, flickering to look like a candle.
“There’s no table fee?” I asked, sliding into the booth.
“Not for you three.” She winked, handing out drink menus. “Lap dances are fifty bucks, though. Enjoy.”
I snorted. Yeah, because we definitely wanted lap dances.
“How do we even know they’re here yet?” Juliet asked, looking at both of us.
“They’re here.” Fallon smirked, flashing her phone and showing the selfie Madoc must have taken just outside the club. “He sent this twenty minutes ago.”
One by one, we all let our eyes drift to the sea of customers out and about in the club, looking for the bachelor party, when I knew we shouldn’t. The guys should be left alone. Until later, when we let it slip via text or social media that we were upstairs getting our own eyeful.
It took me about two seconds to locate them.
Jared and a team of other guys sat right in front of the stage, off to the right. Zack, Madoc, Jax, their high school friend Sam, with about half a dozen other guys I barely knew, were surrounded by about three smaller tables as they sat back in cushioned chairs with drinks in hand. Jax took a bottle and poured a few shots, handing one to Jared and Madoc, at which Jared tipped his head back, downing the shot. I inhaled an excited breath.
Burying my face in the menu, I mumbled to the girls, “Around the stage. With the girl dressed like a Native American giving Zack a lap dance.”
They dove back behind the curtain, and Juliet huddled close to Fallon as they both spied on the guys.
I laughed under my breath.
“Good evening,” a server greeted us, stopping at our table. “Would all of you like something to drink?” she asked, setting down napkins.
“Three shots of Jim Beam,” Fallon ordered. “Devil’s Cut.”
“I don’t want whiskey,” Juliet retorted.
“Good, because they’re all for me,” Fallon shot back, and I was amused at her nerves. She was always so confident and tough, but my girl did not like her man in a strip club after all.
I set the menu down, pushing all three of them toward the server. “Pineapple and Parrot Bay for her,” I ordered, pointing to Juliet, “her three shots and a Newcastle”—I pointed to Fallon—“and I’ll have a Red Stripe.”
The server nodded without writing anything down and left, and everyone looked back out to the guys. Aside from sporadic glances to the stage to watch the dancers, they mostly just sat back and joked around. Jared sat facing the stage, but his head was turned to the side, and I could tell he was laughing from time to time by how his shoulders shook. A server brought appetizers, and while some of the guys dug in, others continued to just drink.
The show had a main performance—a dancer on center stage—but there were smaller stages spread out with a couple of pole dancers.
Juliet sat back, looking calmer. “They’re behaving.” She gave a sad smile. “Now I feel bad. We should just go upstairs.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to be down here anyway.”
Fallon shot her eyes over to me. “Really? You’re not jealous? At all?”
I looked away, running a nervous hand through my straightened hair and bringing it over the front of my shoulder. “Jared is none of my business,” I maintained.
“Are you sure about that?” Juliet asked timidly as she stared out to the stage, her body gone eerily still.
“Yes,” I retorted. “Let him have his fun.”
“Okay.” She nodded, sounding forlorn. “Because he seems to like what he’s seeing up onstage.” And then she pinned me, looking serious.
My eyebrows nosedived, and I immediately looked out to where Jared sat. He was still sitting back in his chair, but his full attention was onstage, and when I followed his gaze, I nearly choked on a breath.
My neck heated, and my head was screaming.
Piper.
Jared’s ex. The girl he was sleeping with before we got together in high school.
My tight black dress constricted my body more, and I felt sick.
I hadn’t seen her in four years. Why was he looking at her?
She had made and distributed a sex video of Jared and me in school, and he was sitting there, giving her his attention like he was actually turned on.
I stayed still, paralyzed not by her, but by him. He should’ve turned away. He should’ve left.
After what she did to us . . .
She stood on a smaller side stage with the pole at her back as she bent down at the waist and then flipped her hair back, giving Jared a close and personal view of her tits.
She then rose, put one hand behind her neck and the other behind her back and tugged smoothly at the strings of her top, letting it fall away from her body to expose her tanned and perfect breasts to him.
I looked down, grinding my teeth.
No.
My face ached as tears sprang to my eyes, and I looked away, so Fallon and Juliet wouldn’t see.
Fuck him.
By the way he was watching her—making no move to ignore her—and by the way she singled him out, they could have each other.
I dragged in a deep breath and cleared my throat.
Digging in my clutch purse, I pulled out a bill just as the server brought us our drinks.
I tipped my chin up, blinking away the tears in my eyes. “I want to buy a lap dance,” I told her, holding out the money. “Not for me, though.”
She tucked the tray under her arm and took the money. “Sure. What do you need?”
I leaned on the table, noticing that Jared had finally looked away, before I started speaking to the server again. “Do you see that guy with the brown hair over there dressed all in black? He’s lifting a glass to his lips right now.” I pointed in his direction, and the server turned to see who I was referring to.
She nodded.
“Can you send him that dancer that’s onstage in front of his table when she’s done?” I asked and felt Juliet stiffen next to me.
The server smiled. “Of course.”
She left, and I closed up my purse, setting it on my seat next to my lap as I ignored Fallon and Juliet, who I knew were staring at me.
“Tate, what are you doing?” Juliet’s concerned voice was void of her usual pep.
“Tate, stop her,” Fallon urged, referring to the server. “Don’t do this. You’re setting him up.”
I didn’t know if Madoc had told Fallon anything about the episode with Piper in high school, but regardless, she knew buying Jared a lap dance was a bad move.
Kind of evil, actually.
I stared ahead, fisting the cold brown bottle in front of me.
I didn’t know why I did it. It felt like those times when you want to ask questions or feel you should, but in the end, you don’t really want the answers.
I didn’t want Jared with other women. I loved him.
But I wanted a reason not to. I wanted one thing to push me off the fence. One thing that would make me never trust him again.
“You want him to fail you.” Fallon’s quiet voice was raspy, and I looked up to see her eyes pooling behind her glasses.
Then I glanced at Juliet looking at me like she didn’t even know me.
“No,” I whispered more to myself, shame warming my face. “I want it to hurt.”
I knew I always forgot the pain he caused too easily. Not anymore.
Juliet narrowed her confused eyes on me, not understanding. Not understanding that the pain made me stronger. That anger felt good, and if Jared hurt me, then I could feed off it to feel superior.
I could win and not be the one left crying or waiting or trying to live and put up a front when the hole he left wouldn’t fill.