“Coming,” Ben called as he headed toward the door of the Philadelphia apartment he’d moved into for the off-season. His voice echoed as it carried through the two-story loft. He had no idea who would be at his door at nine thirty at night on a Sunday.

He pulled open the door to see Gabe and Jace standing there, but before Ben could even ask what the hell they were doing, the men took hold of both Ben’s arms and yanked him into the hall. “You’re comin’ with us,” Gabe said.

“What the fuck?” Ben asked, struggling to break free of his friends’ tight grasp. Though he was slightly bigger than Gabe and about the same height as Jace, the two of them managed to restrain him. “Coming where? I don’t even have shoes on.”

Jace looked at Ben’s feet. “I’ll go grab some.”

Knowing that as soon as Jace left, Ben would be able to overpower Gabe, especially given his knee injury, he didn’t protest. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“Stop asking questions, or we’ll blindfold and gag you,” Gabe said.

That earned him a laugh from Jace who’d just stepped inside Ben’s apartment. As soon as he was out of sight, Ben yanked his arm away and sidestepped Gabe so he could wrap an arm around his neck. “Let go! You know I’ve got a bad knee,” Gabe pleaded once he was in a headlock and at Ben’s mercy.

“Well, you’re about to have two if you don’t tell me what the fuck you guys are up to.”

“Fine. Let me go and I’ll tell you.”

Ben tightened the chokehold.

“Okay, okay. We’re taking you to book your escort.”

Ben released Gabe slowly and, once he was standing upright, gave him a playful shove to the shoulder. “We can’t seriously do that. I’m fine finding a woman I know and asking her to go as a favor, but I’m not hiring an escort.”

“Fine, I’ll hire her,” Gabe said. “As long as you’re the one who pays her.”

“Gabe!” Ben said. “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” Ben said loudly. “It is.”

“I don’t think it is,” Gabe said. “And neither does Jace.”

“Okay, so you’re both morons.”

“We aren’t morons. An escort is totally the way to go. They’re used to interacting in different situations, so whoever it is’ll have no problem getting your family to believe that she’s your girlfriend. You can pick how you want her to dress and her level of education.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Ben said, but Gabe continued as if Ben hadn’t even spoken.

“She won’t be looking for more after you guys leave or expect you to put a ring on it or anything. It’s a business arrangement. She’ll be totally professional.”

Ben had to admit—though not aloud—that Gabe did make some good points. It might be more awkward to bring a friend than it would be to bring someone he didn’t know. “I don’t know, Gabe. This feels like it might backfire.”

“It won’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This would be her livelihood. Keeping everything secret is what these people do. No one else will be able to guarantee that. Plus me and Jace’ll have your back the whole time you’re up there.”

Ben thought about the voicemail he’d ignored from his mom asking if he was bringing someone to the wedding. “Fine,” he finally said.

“Fine?”

“Yeah. Fine. I’ll do it. But don’t make me regret it already by acting like you’re surprised I said okay.”

“I am surprised,” Gabe said. “I expected to have to use physical force.”

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, making his shoulders and arms appear bigger than they already were. “Well, you would’ve needed your accomplice to help because you weren’t getting me in that car on your own.”

Before Gabe had time to respond, Jace appeared with a pair of red Nikes. He thrust them in Ben’s direction. “Put these on.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Those’ll look stupid with this,” he said, looking down at his gray sweatpants and royal-blue Under Armour shirt. “If you’re choosing where we’re going, I at least get to choose what I’m wearing.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Fine, Kendall Jenner. Go get changed and meet us in the car.”

As Ben closed the door, he briefly thought about dialing 911 and telling them that there were two strange men trespassing. That would teach his dickhead friends a lesson. Not to mention, it would be funny as shit.

But he knew that despite how ridiculous hiring an escort to bring to a family wedding sounded, it also seemed like the best possible solution. And the only thing worse than walking into an escort service and admitting you wanted to pay for a date was walking in alone. He needed his two best friends.

He finished tying his shoes, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed downstairs to where Jace’s car was waiting with the valet. He had his hand on the passenger’s side rear door when Gabe spoke. “You’re lucky this isn’t a car with a regular trunk or we would’ve made you ride in it.”

“Fuck off or I’ll strap you to the roof rack.”

Jace had barely pulled away from Ben’s building before one of them spoke again. Of course it was Gabe. “So where did you tell Aly you were going tonight?”

Jace looked at him, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“God, you’re dense. What lie did you tell Aly so she’d be okay with you going out tonight?”

“I didn’t lie. I told her we were going to hire an escort.”

The other two men laughed. “You told your girlfriend you’re hiring an escort? You’ve got bigger balls than I thought,” Ben said.

“I’m not hiring an escort. You are. And me and Aly love each other.” Jace shrugged. “She trusts me.”

Ben shook his head at his friend’s declaration. “That’s the most sickening thing you’ve said since you told us about the infection you got from that tick that latched onto your ball.”

Gabe burst out in a fit of laughter. “That shit was disgusting.”

“And that’s why I’ll never sleep in a tent without clothes on again.”

“Well, you’re a fucking moron for doing it the first time,” Ben said.

Jace was quiet for a moment while he drove. “Speaking of sleeping arrangements though . . . what’s gonna happen when you and your new lady friend head up to Connecticut for the wedding festivities?”

Ben was confused. “What do you mean? It’s not like my parents will be with us at night. I have a hotel room.”

“With two beds?” Jace asked.

“No. One king. But I’m not gonna expect her to have sex with me.”

“She will if you want her to,” Gabe said.

“I don’t want her to,” Ben fired back, his eyes wide. “I’ll set the ground rules first and let her know that under no circumstances is she going to need to have sex with me. Then I’ll call the hotel and get a room with two beds.”

“No rooms left,” Gabe said. “When I called to book mine two months ago, they waitlisted me. They emailed like a week ago to say one opened up.”

“Whatever,” Ben said as Jace turned into the parking lot. “I’m not worried about it. I’ll sleep on a cot or the floor if I have to so she doesn’t feel weird.” He looked out the window at the nearby buildings as Jace pulled into a space and shut off the car. “Where is this place?”

“Right there.” Gabe gave a nod toward a neon pink sign that stood on the top of a tan brick building.

“Daisy’s? That’s a strip club.”

“You say that like I don’t already know it,” Gabe replied.

“Stripping and escorting aren’t the same.”

“Hey,” Gabe barked. “Who’s the expert on this? You or me?”

Ben threw his hands up in surrender. Gabe had a point. This adventure was much more in Gabe’s wheelhouse than Ben’s. “Okay, okay. Lead the way.”

“Thank you,” Gabe said as he opened the door and gestured for Ben and Jace to enter. “Would I ever steer you wrong?”

* * *

In a matter of seconds, Ben took in his surroundings. Despite the dimly lit space, he could see enough to know that this place probably didn’t employ anyone his parents would believe he was dating. Most of them looked to be at least fifteen years older than he was and seemed a little too . . . rough, for lack of a better word. His eyes darted around the room like they were afraid of what might happen if they settled on one particular spot.

Ben opened his mouth to speak, but as if Gabe could sense what Ben was about to say, he muttered a “Don’t answer that” as he signaled for one of the waitresses.

* * *

“What can I get for you gentlemen?” Ryan tried to infuse her voice with a little enthusiasm, but she didn’t feel it. Carrying drinks in six-inch heels left something to be desired. Especially when she had to cater to sleazy businessmen like the ones she currently had the pleasure of dealing with. They’d already been to Daisy’s three nights this week, and even though there were partially naked women sliding up and down poles, for some reason the guys seemed to be more interested in her.

“You cut your hair,” one of them said.

“Yup.” The reply was as forced as the smile accompanying it. She could practically feel the balding man’s gaze burning her skin as his eyes roamed over the length of her. It didn’t help that they were seated on one of the black leather couches, allowing them to practically see up her miniskirt. She didn’t know how all these girls could do this—flirt with complete strangers that they had no interest in. She’d make a horrible actress.

“I’m Steve,” he said, spreading his arms against the back of the couch and crossing his ankle over his knee. It was one of those poses men used to make themselves appear bigger, more powerful. He looked to be at least twice her age, and he smelled like stale cigars and aftershave. Which struck Ryan as strange since it didn’t look like he’d shaved in a few days.

Ryan hated him.

“I’m Paige.”

“Paige,” he repeated. “That’s a beautiful name.”

It’s also a fake one. She’d made a promise to herself when she’d started waiting tables at a strip club: There was no way she would give a guy her real name. And when she’d thought of possible aliases, Paige had seemed all too fitting.

Because that’s what this job was: a page in a chapter of much longer story. And she couldn’t wait to turn it. “Thank you,” she muttered before gesturing her head toward the bar. “What are you guys having? I have some other tables I need to check on.”

The other two men placed their orders—some high-end bourbon that she was sure they’d ordered so she’d know they had money. Like she cared.

“Martini,” Steve said. “I like ‘em dirty,” he added with a wink. Then he reached a hand out and grabbed hold of Ryan’s, which had been casually at her side until he’d touched it.

She jerked her hand away reflexively. She didn’t want a strange guy touching her, though the fact that she appeared so uncomfortable made her a bit self-conscious. He’d only touched her hand.

But she couldn’t help it that the contact made her visibly cringe. “Please don’t touch me,” she said, her voice firm, confident. Though she wasn’t quite sure where the courtesy had come from.

Over the two months she’d worked at Daisy’s, she’d become accustomed to customers getting handsy with her. And she had no problem putting them in their place.

Unfortunately, the owner, Paul Roman, did have a problem with it. He’d already had to tell her more than a few times that he’d employed security for a reason, and he expected her to make use of it. But she’d be damned if she would let a man put a hand on her without sticking up for herself.

“Sorry,” Steve said, though the way one corner of his lips drew up as he eyed the two other guys told her the apology wasn’t genuine. Not one bit.

“I’m sure you are,” she muttered.

“What was that?” he replied, almost laughing. He must not have expected the response, and he drew a gray eyebrow up in challenge.

“I said, I’m sure you are.” She knew he probably expected her to back down, say that she hadn’t said anything. But she never backed down. Especially when it came to guys like this. Guys who thought wealth and power gave them the right to be chauvinistic assholes. “I’ll go get your drinks,” she said, turning to leave.

But when she did, she felt a firm hand on her wrist. Her instinct was to pull away, break free from the grasp. But she couldn’t let herself walk away. “I said don’t touch me,” she spat after yanking her hand away for a second time and pulling it in toward her like a child in need of protection.

“And I said I’m sorry,” he shot back.

“Well, clearly you’re not or you wouldn’t have done it again.” Her voice was growing louder, but she could still hear Paul’s over it.

“Everything okay here, gentlemen?”

“Fine,” Steve said, his eyes never leaving Ryan’s.

“Good. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” Paul said. He shot Ryan a look of warning.

“This asshole grabbed me, and you’re asking him if everything’s okay?” She glared at her boss, her expression challenging him to justify himself. Not that there was anything he could say that would.

“Where did he grab you?”

“My wrist. But why should that matter? He put his hand on me, and we have a ‘no touching’ policy.”

Paul rolled his eyes and put his hand on her back as he ushered her away from the men. The fact that he’d now touched her as well wasn’t doing anything to help the matter. “This is a strip club. A guy touched your wrist. It’s not like he grabbed your pussy.”

Paul’s words made her visibly cringe.

“You have to make some sacrifices,” he continued. “And relax a little if you’re gonna continue to work here.”

“My dignity isn’t something I should have to sacrifice.”

Paul scoffed. “Yeah. Well, listen, honey. You gotta do a lotta shit in life you shouldn’t have to do. So suck it up. I don’t need my girls getting into it with our guests. It’s bad for business. I pay you to carry drinks and look pretty.”

She stared hard at him, feeling her muscles clench inside her skin. She couldn’t keep spending the next God knows how long hopping from one friend’s couch to another until she got her life in order. Since she’d left her hometown, everything was in disarray. She needed this job.

But more than that, she needed her pride.

“Well you don’t pay me enough,” she said. Her voice was calm, but there was a firmness to it that made her feel like she’d recaptured some of her confidence.

And with that, she walked to the back room to get her bag from her locker. She didn’t respond when Paul called after her, and she didn’t answer when some of the other women asked where she was going.

She didn’t know.

All she knew was that she needed to get away from here.