19 — Dancerotica

Hailey’s voice carried down the hallway before I even stepped into the room.

“Damn. Girl, I could turn gay for you,” she whistled.

She stood there, staring at me like she had just discovered a new religion. Her eyes dragged from my face to the hem of the dress, slow and dramatic, like she needed a full minute to process the sight.

We had already abandoned the black dress earlier. It made me look like I was heading to a funeral. The green one was her idea. Something that matched my hair. Something that made me look alive.

I hated how right she was.

The dress clung to my waist in a way that made me double-check it wasn’t glued to my body. The cross-front design pushed my chest forward more than I would ever choose on a normal day. The mid-thigh slits served absolutely no purpose except existing, which honestly was enough for me.

I had tied my hair into a sleek ponytail, leaving my back bare. On a regular Alessia day, I would not have been caught wearing anything this bold. But tonight felt different. I did not want to look small.

I had already done my makeup. A little powder, strawberry gloss, eyeliner, and mascara. Quick, and courtesy of YouTube tutorials Hailey always sent me.

She finally exhaled.

“Do not tell me Trevor bought this to make you seduce him. Look at you. I can tell you like it. Girl, you sneaky bitch.”

I rolled my eyes at her and walked deeper into the closet. “Of course not. Everything was arranged by his maid before I got here. The only things I brought are the small boxes on the top shelf. Do not start making stupid assumptions.”

I flipped her off for good measure.

Hailey grinned, unbothered. “Does that boy have taste? Yes, he does. You lucky girl.”

“I bet his assistant picked everything. Trust me.” I waved a hand, uninterested.

“Whatever. It is yours now. And you look fine. That boy should have been here seeing this.”

I ignored the sting in my stomach and snapped my fingers. “Shall we go? Miss? The night is not waiting.”

She adjusted her own dress and pointed at me. “Do not mind the little drool on my face. You did that.”

I laughed, loud and real. My best friend had a chaos switch built into her soul.

We left the mansion and hopped into her car, leaving my assigned driver behind. It was a girls night, a bachelorette night, and nothing about that included a man named Simon who probably took notes about the speed bumps.

After almost an hour of arguing over where to go, Hailey settled on Dancerotica.

The hottest club in the city.

Open only on Mondays.

Invite-only unless you were rich, beautiful, or both.

Hailey was both.

We joined the long line outside, which moved at the pace of a broken escalator. It surprised me how packed it was. Monday night and already overflowing with people desperate to escape their own lives.

We finally got in after a bouncer practically melted under Hailey’s cleavage.

Nothing men would not do for tits.

The heat hit me first. Then the music. Then the sight of bodies grinding against each other like the world was ending in four minutes.

Hailey grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd, bumping into drunken strangers left and right. Somehow we made it to the bar without losing a limb.

We ordered whiskey shots. The bartender slid our glasses over, and I took mine with a small smile. I let my tongue brush the rim before drinking. The burn was perfect. It flared in my chest and didn’t leave right away.

Hailey barely finished hers before some guy with too much confidence and too little brain whisked her away.

I warned her not to go. She waved me off, chanting “you only live once” until the private room door ate her.

I sighed and turned around, leaning back against the bar. The club was a collection of limbs and sweat and questionable decisions. I watched couple after couple kiss like their tongues were trying to climb out of their bodies.

Just as I turned back toward the bartender, something behind the VIP curtains caught my eye.

A silhouette. Familiar. Too familiar.

A blonde was grinding on a man’s lap. His hands were on her thighs. Her mouth on his neck. The curtains did little to hide them, especially when a bodyguard pulled one aside to walk in.

His face turned slightly.

My chest tightened.

Trevor.

His eyes lifted, meeting mine.

The blonde kept kissing him until he pushed her away like she was a forgotten accessory. She flipped him off and stormed out.

My throat went dry. That was not me. I refused to let him see me break. I forced my expression flat and pulled out my phone with a steady hand.

“I’m leaving NOW.”

I sent the text to Hailey.

He stood up and made his way toward me.

Why should he?

He looked calm. Too calm. He moved through the crowd like he owned it. Like he owned everything.

I took a step back as he approached. Five more steps. Four. Three. Two.

Then he was right in front of me.

He looked annoyingly good. A deep V-neck shirt that clung to his body. Jeans that made his thighs look sculpted. His chest rising and falling from whatever he had been doing seconds ago.

He opened his mouth.

I lifted a hand.

“You do not need to say anything. I never thought I would see you here. I would not have come if I knew.”

He tsked, eyes dragging down my dress before returning to my face.

“Jealousy does not look good on you, Alessia.”

That was what he chose to say?

Heat rose up my neck. I wasn’t embarrassed. I was angry. I wanted to swing at something. Anything. Him.

“I am not jealous. Why would I be? I am not surprised. You did worse earlier. The only difference is that you did not put your junk in her trunk this time.”

His jaw tightened.

I stepped away.

He stepped closer.

I did not move back this time.

The noise around us blurred into something distant. People brushed past, but none of it reached here.

His eyes stayed on me.

“Why are you running away, Alessia?” he said, towering over me.

“I’m not. I don't want you to ruin my night.”

He raised a brow, “Isn't that the same thing?”

I shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Again, his gaze dropped briefly to my dress, then came back up, lingering on my cleavage. He did not hide it. He never did.

“I know you worked at Sippin’ Strippin’, but I didn't know you actually party. You surprise me everytime. Or you're here for me?.”

“I did not come for you, like I said. Yes, I used to work at your club, but I had a life outside of it as you can clearly see.”

A small exhale left him. Almost a laugh, but not quite.

“You always say things like that.”

“Because they are true.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I had changed since the last time he saw me.

The space between us felt smaller than it should have.

“I honestly did not expect you here,” he said.

“I said the same thing.”

His jaw flexed once. He looked past me for a second, then back.

“You are upset.”

I let out a short laugh. “That is what you think this is? First off, you said I was jealous, now I’m upset? Pick a struggle, Mr. Trevor Reynolds.”

He did not answer fast enough.

That alone irritated me more.

“I saw you,” I said.

He did not ask what.

That silence made it worse.

“At the table,” I continued. “With her.”

His expression did not change.

“She was not important.”

I blinked once. “That is your explanation?”

He stepped closer again, just enough that I noticed.

“I did not ask you to stay and watch.”

“I did not ask you to bring me into your life either.”

That made him stop for a second.

Not long.

Just enough.

He looked at me again, slower this time.

“You think that meant something.”

I held his gaze. “I think it meant exactly what it looked like.”

A pause.

He ran a hand through his midnight hair once, then let it drop.

“You should leave.”

“I was already leaving.”

His eyes tracked me as I turned slightly.

Then he said it.

“You came here anyway. To me.”

I stopped, but I did not turn back.

“That is your imagination,” I said.

“Goodnight, fiancé.”

I turned my back on him and walked out before he could ruin the satisfaction blooming inside me.

It felt good.

Really good.