Aflame (Fall Away #4)(58)

A hostess in a tight black dress—much like my own—approached us with menus.

“Hello.” Her long, brown hair, bronze complexion, and dark eyes glimmered in the surrounding candlelight. “The ladies’ show upstairs doesn’t start again for another hour, but we can get you seated.”

I barely heard her, looking around for the guys. It was after ten, and while they held only two performances with the male dancers on Friday and Saturday nights, the female dancers performed around the clock.

“Actually,” Fallon spoke up, “can we sit down here and have a drink first?”

What?

“Of course.” She smiled and nodded. “Follow me.”

I let out a sigh and followed, Juliet at my side, with her gaze darting everywhere, probably looking for Jax.

While my curiosity was all for getting a glimpse of the guys tonight, I didn’t want this to be about them. Madoc and Jax expected Fallon and Juliet to handle themselves with patience and understanding—which they did—but it would be a hell of a riot to see how they handled themselves when they found out their women were upstairs getting a show, too.

That was the point of coming here, after all.

“Ugh,” Fallon groaned as she halted and looked at the stage. “Look at her tits.”

I twisted my head, looking up onstage, and immediately I could feel my face falling.

Shit.

A beautiful blonde with lowlights in her hair wore a gold bikini that pushed up her breasts, making them stand out against her flat stomach and perfect skin. And as she held the pole with one hand and leaned back, rolling her hips and bringing the back of her hand up to flip her hair, my gut twisted.

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?”