Page 188 of Exiled

SIX MONTHS LATER

SKYLER

Sultry rock music plays from the speakers, filling the dimly lit room.

A single spotlight shines on the stage where a curvy woman dressed in nothing but a silver sequined thong hangs upside down from a pole, knee curved into her perky chest.

Her eyes are closed, face smooth of all expression. She looks peaceful swinging there with nothing but her ankle keeping her from crashing down head-first.

“Hey, Sky, table 2’s waving you down.”

Turning, I spare Micah a quick glance, following his little chin nod toward the other side of the room where a group of mostly women sit in one of the high-backed round booths reserved for parties.

Two of the girls wear white veils on their head. One is in a pink dress, the other black. The one in the black is currently sitting on the other’s lap and is waving at me, a grin spread across her face. By the flush of her cheeks, and the glimmer in her eyes I spot when I draw near, I know she’s got to be feeling pretty good.

“Hi,Sky,” she purrs. Giggles sound from around the table.

I stare down at my tablet. “What can I get you?”

“A blow job,” she says with all the seriousness in the world.

Her fiancé swats her arm, but she too is giggling.

“Excuse her,” the guy next to her drawls deeply. “She doesn’t get out often.”

In my periphery, I catch his wink, and my cheeks flame.

“Quinn, leave the boy alone,” the girl directly across from him says.

He rolls his eyes. “Just having a little fun.” I peek up through my lashes as he looks me up and down. He arches a brow. “Please tell me you dance too.”

I click my tongue, shaking my head. “No. Pretty sure that would be a liability for the club.”

He smiles like maybe he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not. “I too suffer from what the doctors call flat feet.”

I shrug. “I think mine are just too big.”

He smacks the table with a laugh, and I realize what I just said.Ugh.

“That-that’s not what I—” I slam my mouth shut. I can feel my face darkening even more. Shaking my head, I fist my hand at my side, clenching the tray in the other. Dressed in nothing but black bootie shorts and a red crop top that readsLola’sin white retro script across my chest, I suddenly feel very, very naked.

Get a grip. You’re working. It’s not real. You’re notyou.You’re Sky.

Blowing out a breath, I stand up straighter, lifting my chin, though I don’t meet his eye directly, or anyone else. “What can I get the rest of you?”

The guy—Quinn—chuckles knowingly around his straw, but fortunately he leaves it, and simply says, “Another vodka soda, please. Extra cherries.”

The others throw in their orders and I nod, spinning on my heel, and strut back to the bar like there isn’t a fire lit to my ass.

Micah’s laughing when I reach him. Shaking his head, he says, “You were floundering.”

“Shut up.”

“You should get his number.”

I scowl. “No.”

“No? He’s cute. Why not?” A beat passes. “Wait, was he being rude?” There’s an edge there now where there wasn’t before, and I shake my head.

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