I was so freaked out that I barely got to enjoy Annika’s lap dance by the hulkiest black man I’d ever seen outside of a Knicks game. He got so in her lap and in her face that I could barely see her around him. She was half-crying, half-laughing and wholly amused, though clearly uncomfortable. Her eyes were closed for a good portion of the show, which seemed to only egg him on.
I had a sneaking suspicion that it was her first encounter with a stripper, which made it that much better. And I was too busy wigging out to get any mileage out of the jokes I’d been saving up to embarrass her with.
Within an hour, we were stumbling out of the club, heading toward Shep and Ramona’s new place, laughing and chatting along the way. We stopped on our way to get pizza from a window booth, which was the only reason Ramona wouldn’t be puking her guts up all day the next day.
And all the while, my thoughts were on Bodie, just as they had been all night. I didn’t think I’d said more than ten words since we left the strip club, and I used them all to order pizza.
Somehow, I’d found myself in some sort of relationship without even realizing it, and I had no idea what that meant.
Denial was a thing, and I was the queen of it.
For weeks I’d been seeing him, and I’d had no desire to look anywhere else. He was smart and hot. He knew how to work my body almost better than I did, knew how to make me laugh and make me swoon and make me happy.
Peggy was quiet. Probably too quiet.
But from the jump, I’d said no commitment. From the start, I’d said we should talk if we caught feelings.
Clearly, I’d caught feelings, and no amount of antibiotics would save me.
I wondered if that meant I had to tell him, and my stomach dropped at the thought. I couldn’t — not yet. I mean, yet was such a dumb word to use because I didn’t know if I could ever. If I admitted it, it would be real. If I admitted it, things would change. And I didn’t want things to change.
The pizza was like cardboard in my mouth as I walked in the back of the laughing pack.
The real issue was that I didn’t know for certain that he had feelings for me too. I didn’t know if I made him feel as good as he made me feel. Whatever he felt — if anything — he kept on lock. He was totally blasé, super chill, reminding me over and over again that this was all for fun. Implying that it meant nothing.
Me calling him my boyfriend definitely wasn’t nothing.
I wondered just how he felt, if he’d call me his girlfriend if a stripper hit on him. The thought of asking him made me gag, and I tossed my pizza in the next trash can I came across. I didn’t want to know if he didn’t feel the same. I didn’t want whatever we had to end, not until it was inevitable. And the only way it would be inevitable was if I opened my big fucking mouth.
Things were too good to blow it all up. So I’d keep it to myself for now, maybe forever. Because I didn’t want to lose him. Not yet, and definitely not tonight. Tonight I wanted to see him more than ever.
I grabbed my phone from my clutch and texted him.
Still up?
My heart skipped when I saw him typing. I am. Working late. How was the strip club?
Good. I had my mind blown by a stripper’s ass. I mean it. My whole universe was shaken.
Learn any new tricks?
I smiled. I don’t have nearly enough junk in my trunk to do what she did. I don’t have enough core strength either.
Hahaha. What are you doing now?
Well, now that I know you’re up, I’d like to be doing you.
What do you know? My schedule just cleared.
God, I was so into him, and I couldn’t even be mad about it.
Be there in thirty.
And as I put my phone away, I felt lighter. Because denial was a sweet, sweet place to be, and I’d stay there until I was dragged out, kicking and screaming.
* * *
Bodie
I thought I’d be able to finish what I was working on before Penny came over, but there was no way. Instead, I bugged Jude and Phil while they worked, antsy out of nowhere.
Penny did that to me. Made me crazy. Made me want things I couldn’t have. Every day it got harder to play it cool, harder to pretend. But until she was ready to talk about it, I’d keep it to myself.
She knocked on the door, and I walked over, trying not to hurry, throwing my chill on at the last possible second.
Penny looked incredible, as she always did. Tonight she was in the tightest black jeans I’d ever seen in my life, the waist high and her crop top short, exposing a slice of the flowers tattooed on her stomach and ribs. She wasn’t wearing a bra again, and I tried not to think about how many men noticed the curve of her breasts, the peaks of her nipple, the bars on each side.
It wouldn’t have bothered me so bad if I’d known she was mine.
She smiled and stepped into me, and I pushed the thought away as I pulled her into my chest and kissed her.
I closed the door, and we walked through the living room.
“Hey, guys,” Penny said, wiggling her fingers at them.
They waved over the backs of their chairs, not turning around.
“Working hard?” she asked as we walked into my room.
I closed the door and reached for my phone to turn on music. “Always. We’re in DEFCON One now that we have a meeting.”
She smiled and sat down on my bed, reaching down to unbuckle her shoes. “It’s so amazing, Bodie. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Me too,” I said as I stretched out in bed, propped up by my pillows. “So tell me about this stripper’s ass.”
She laughed and climbed up the bed, sitting next to me on her knees. “It was magnificent. It made me want to do a thousand squats because if I could badonk my donk like that, I could die knowing I’d accomplished something that made the universe a better place.” She perked up and popped off the bed. “Oh! I brought you something.”
When she bounded back over from her purse, she hopped up on the bed and bounced a little, holding something behind her.
“How’d you know you’d see me tonight?” I asked, smirking in an attempt to keep my eagerness hidden.
She shrugged. “I couldn’t be around all that gyrating and not come see you after. Okay, now — you ready?”
“I dunno. Am I?”
She chuckled. “You are. Voilà!”
When Penny brought her hand out from behind her back, it held a small painting, about five-by-seven — an illustration of a girl in a leather bustier and leather garters with knives strapped to one thigh, red hair blowing in the wind, and an airship behind her. The word Nighthawk arched over the top of the watercolor drawing, framed by gears.
I took it reverently, my eyes raking over it in wonder. “Penny, this is gorgeous.”
Her smile could have been a thousand watts. “You like it?”
“I love it,” was all I could say.
“I told you it made me want to draw. Bodie, I’m just so happy for you. And I want you to know that I believe you can do this. I believe you can do just about anything.”
I rested my hand on her thigh, and her face softened as she leaned into me, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. When she backed away, I saw something new in her eyes, something different. Something good. Something more.