Kissing Whitney was a gamble. One I was willing to take. The time I spent with her last night at the bar and our conversation on the video chat already had me on edge, but when she opened the door this morning I knew I’d kiss her before the day was over. The fact that she’s a bigger fan than I am of my favorite rock band threw me for a loop, but it shouldn’t have. In the last few months, I’ve realized Whitney Wheeler is full of surprises.
While I expect surprises from Whitney, her reaction to the kiss may have been the biggest shock of them all. The connection I felt in Portland was tenfold when she leaned against her car. The way she gripped my shirt, the hum in the back of her throat as our tongues battled. All of it was primal. Needy. Passionate.
I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her, take her home, and spend the day with her. Holding her, loving her. My girl is skittish and scared. Deep down, I know part of the issue is my choice of a part-time job. That was evident with her line of questioning. She’s trying to figure out if being with me, with my job, is a deal-breaker. She’s investigating and weighing her options.
Weighing the option of us.
Assuming there can be an us.
I need her to meet Carmen. I need Carmen to tell her this is only a job, it doesn’t mean anything when I come home. When I come home to her. That’s what I need.
Me: I need your help.
Carmen: Of course you do. Soldier tonight. The ladies eat that shit up.
Me: Not that. But noted. It’s Whitney.
Carmen: OH!!! I’m here for you. I am your Yoda.
Me: You’re ridiculous. I have class now. Meet for coffee in a few hours?
Carmen: Yeah, I’m closing tonight so that works.
If anyone can help me figure this out with Whitney, it’s Carmen. She’s not only living the life of a male dancer’s girlfriend, but it’s the lifestyle Whitney seems to be unsure of. Besides, she knows me better than most people and has been on the receiving end of a few Whitney stories over the years.
My classes drag on for what feels like a lifetime, not the three hours they actually are. This semester has been kicking my ass and not just my course load. Each of my professors seem to be huge Ferris Bueller fans. The monotone lectures have left a lot to be desired.
When the professor finally dismisses class, I stuff my laptop in my messenger bag as two girls approach me from the side. Glancing up, I smile before turning the attention back to closing the bag. When I sling it over my shoulder, one of the girls clears her throat before speaking.
“Excuse me, but this is really random and kind of embarrassing.”
“Jesus, we don’t have all day,” Girl Two spats. “You work at that male strip club downtown, don’t you?”
“I do,” I reply. There’s no need to lie or hide what I do.
“I thought so. We were there last weekend. You’re . . . very talented,” she says with a smile while twisting her long blonde hair around her finger.
“Thanks. It’s just a job,” I comment with a shrug. I take a step to move around them but neither move to let me by.
“Oh,” Girl One begins, “I’d say you’re really good at your job. Do you want to go with us for coffee or . . .”
It’s been a long time since I’ve had this sort of encounter at school. The last time, it was one of my professors. Awkward doesn’t begin to explain that particular conversation. At first, I thought she might come on to me like these two girls are, but she was more worried I’d tell someone I saw her there. I assured her I would not and if she were there again, I’d make sure I didn’t look her way.
“Sorry, ladies. I have a coffee date already, and I’m running a little late. If you’ll excuse me.” Motioning for them to step aside, only one moves to allow me by. When Girl Two places her hand on my arm to stop me, I take a deep breath for patience and turn to her with a smile.
“Maybe another time?”
“I don’t think so. Next time you’re at the club, let me know, and I’ll buy you a drink. See ya around.”
Rushing from the room, I practically run to my truck to meet Carmen. Encounters like that are rare, but they do happen. Sometimes it’s a long stare, a whisper among a group of women, or a straight confrontation like that one. Women have approached me at the grocery store, the coffee shop, even at the gas station. Never before have they bothered me, but today is different.
Before, there was no Whitney.
The drive to Carmen’s favorite coffee shop takes no time at all. Parking across the street from the shop, I see Carmen’s car. Spotting her in line to place her order, I step behind her and whisper-growl, “boo.” She jumps and screeches, catching the attention of the other customers, and I let out a boisterous laugh.
“You’re a dick. And buying my coffee now.”
“Ah, I expected not only to buy your coffee but also bribe you with cupcakes.”
“Oh, this is serious.”
Nodding, I place our order for coffee and two cupcakes for Carmen. She has the sweetest sweet tooth of anyone I know, and one cupcake is never enough. Or so she says repeatedly around the middle of the month. Living with a woman has given me an entirely new appreciation for the female population. But at the end of the day, my friend is happy with her cupcakes, her fully charged e-reader, and her boyfriend.
“Jonah says you’re pretty determined to win this girl over,” she says, settling into her seat before grabbing the steaming cup and taking a sip.
“That would be an accurate assessment.”
Letting out a whistle, Carmen leans back in her seat taking another sip from her cup before speaking. “Hmm . . . you’re speaking formally. This is serious. You’re serious. Are you going to tell me you’re in love or something? It’s been weeks, Luke. You hardly know her.”
“I know her. I knew her before, and she’s still the same Whitney. Yes, she’s different. She’s stronger than she gives herself credit; she’s funny, witty, and smart. She’s an amazing friend and her heart is pure. That dipshit who cheated on her did me the biggest favor.”
“Wow.”
Pleased with my proclamation, I sip my coffee and watch my friend as she processes all I’ve said. Of course, she does this while devouring her red velvet cupcake.
“So, if she’s all that and you know it, why are you here with me? What kind of wisdom can I possibly offer?”
“My job.”
“Ah, yes. The shake-a-dick life. Not all the ladies can handle their man shaking his moneymaker for a roomful of horny women and believe he’ll come home to her every night. I imagine for Whitney, that is more difficult, considering what she’s been through.”
“Exactly. She asked about you today.”
Carmen raises a brow, her signature look when she’s intrigued, and motions for me to continue before unwrapping the second cupcake.
“She’s curious. Her questions were simple, but I can read between the lines. I know she’s fishing to find out how relationships work with the club. She also knows you and Jessi have become friends, so I feel like she’s a little curious about you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wondered if you’d hang out with them, let her see you’re totally okay with Jonah’s job, and your relationship is solid.”
Laughing, Carmen starts choking on her cupcake. When I rise to help her, she shoos me away before clearing her throat to speak. “Do not kill me, Lucas DeCosta; I have too much life to live.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what I said to have that reaction,” I say, confused.
“I’m not sure what Jonah has told you, but I hate his fucking job. I’m jealous most nights, and he’s not allowed near me or our bed until he’s showered and fully exfoliated all the stench of that club off him.”
Surprised, I sit back in my seat. I always thought Carmen was okay with the club and our job. At least that’s how it seemed from my side.
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, Luke. I love Jonah with my whole heart and trust him implicitly. That being said, I’m a woman, and I’m human. The thought of my boyfriend, the man I plan to be with the rest of my life, taking his clothes off for other women while they fantasize about the hundred different ways they want to touch him, makes me want to stab all of them. With a dull rusted knife.”
My eyes widen at the visual and instinctively, my hands go to my crotch. If she wants to do that to the women, I can only imagine what she’d do to Jonah himself. Carmen laughs at me and when she snorts, I laugh alongside her.
“I wouldn’t actually do it. The thought has crossed my mind. Here’s the thing, it takes a strong relationship and a stronger woman to accept this life. I know it’s not forever and there’s an end game. Plus, I know Jonah loves me, and he would never sacrifice our relationship for something seedy and unimportant. But with you and Whitney, it’s new. It’s not even a thing yet, Luke. It’s you loving that girl for most of your life and never telling her.”
“So, I should tell her?”
“Oh dear Lord, no. Absolutely not. She’s not ready for that,” Carmen says emphatically. “I haven’t met her, but I can tell you, she’s not ready for a declaration of true love. She needs a friend. She needs to be reminded how special she is. Luke”—she leans forward—“you need to woo her. Take it old-school and court her. Once she sees you’re serious, all bets are off. That’s when you say the three big words.”
“You really are like Yoda.”
“Know this, I do,” she declares before taking a huge bite of her cupcake, cream cheese frosting on her nose and all.