Page 248 of The Perfect Spiral
“Thank you so much for helping me today! It was very kind of you,” I say, holding my clutch between my hands and laughing at my failed attempt to do it all alone.
“Our pleasure, sweetie. But if it wasn’t for your boyfriend, we’d still be out there dragging them along,” Mr. Gregory says, laughing with his wife. I snap my head around to Knox, who has a smug smirk on his face.
Don’t you even think about it, buddy.
“Anything to help out my girl,” Knox interrupts, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands in his pockets. I roll my eyes at the game he’s trying to play. That’s not fair.
“Such a gentleman,” Mrs. Gregory coos, blushing at Knox, who is as smooth as the tiled floor I’m standing on. I turn around with a fake smile and glare at Knox.
I see Ben out of the corner of my eye, clearly enjoying this. “I give up,” I mumble to myself, but Ben hears it and starts to laugh quietly, turning away so I don’t see.
“Alex! Let’s get going! You need a stripper all up in your business!” Sam announces to everyone. My sister hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol yet, and I can already see where this night is going.
“You guys are going to a strip club too?” Ben asks, smirking at me. I nod, “Yeah, but with hot guys. Not girls! I swear, if there are girls, I’m leaving Andy alone in there...”
I sigh as the Gregorys wave goodbye to me, Knox, and the others. “I certainly don’t need anyone all up in anything... Help me, Ben!” I pout at him, and he laughs, pulling me into his arms.
He kisses my head and tells me, “Try not to picture me in there, sweet cheeks.” Pulling back, he watches my reaction.
“Only if you don’t picture me in your strip club,” I retort, laughing and throwing my head back as Sam calls for me again.
I see him glance at Knox and smirk, “Believe me, sweet cheeks, I will one hundred percent be picturing you in there!”
Laughing once again, I see Knox push him and grit out, “Move.” Ben gets stares from the other guys, who just don’t understand our humor.
I wave the boys goodbye and run to join the girls. I’m wearing a blush knee-length pencil skirt with a white crop top that shows off my ribs, strappy gold heeled sandals tied up my leg, and my hair is wavy. My makeup is light, with bronzed eyes. I notice that Andy isn’t in the car.
Hannah and I climb back out to walk back into the lobby. I see Kyle and her to the side, talking.
Hannah and I race over to them and grab Andy’s hand, pulling her away.
“No, she’s not going, and neither are you two! You’re not going to get dicks thrown in your faces. I’m going to kill Sam when I see her!” Kyle is clearly annoyed, but he’s about to go out and do the same thing, just with girls.
“So? You’re about to have a swarm of naked girls all over you, babe! Sure, I’m annoyed, but you have to do it for Tyson just like I have to do it for your sister!”
His huff of resignation is a clear admission that her logic is unassailable. He can’t stay mad at his girlfriend or me, he’s such a softy when it comes to us, Hannah and Sam. He always has been.
“I hate when you give me those eyes, Andy. If any guy—and I mean any guy—comes over to either of you girls,” he points to the three of us, “you better call me.”
“Or me,” Knox interjects.
“Or Knox, but mainly me.” We all nod, pretending that we’ll call them when we all know we won’t.
We spin around to leave, but not before I warn the boys, “You guys better behave. I don’t want to get a call from one of you telling me you pulled a Hangover-style stunt and ended up in Thailand with a bunch of ladyboys, a baby, and a tiger!”
Laughing with them, the three of us salute the boys. Taking Andy’s hand, we leave them to their own devices and slide into the car.
“Finally! Fucking hell! Let’s go, I want to see some hot dancers!” Sam whines, sipping on her champagne. The party bus we rented is filled with estrogen and champagne flowing in flutes.
The driver is blasting heavy bass music and I can feel the alcohol coursing through my system. We’re all dancing around the poles on the bus, pretending to be sexy, and I can’t keep a straight face.
The WAGS take it to a new level, thinking they’re the epitome of sexiness, and Lauren would definitely be included in that category.
There are a few from the group that I plan to steer clear of—they’re too snobby and caught up in the hierarchy of the WAG world. To each their own, I suppose.
After a series of top-quality throwback girls-night-out songs blasting through the speakers, we arrive outside the strip club and are greeted by the manager herself.
She escorts us inside and we walk past stages filled with dancing guys. The pink and blue fluorescent lights flash on the guys in the tightest underwear I’ve ever seen.
