My cheeks grew hot, hotter than they had been all night, and I gave Dex an incredulous look.
“Guess it doesn’t matter what sex you are,” I squeaked.
“Don’t be so modest,” he said, turning his attention back to the next dancer, a black girl with a butt that rivaled mine. Maybe I could be a stripper…if I lost a million pounds and wore 10–inch heels.
“I’m not modest…” I trailed off. I really didn’t need to get into it. Once again the booze was just begging for me to open up like a book.
“You know, kiddo…you’re way better than any of these women,” he said seriously, his eyes still on the stage. “You just need some confidence.”
That I knew. And I was getting better. But confidence didn’t come out of nowhere.
“You’ve got a beautiful face,” he continued, his voice a register lower. The roughness of it made the hairs on my arms stand up. “Gorgeous eyes. I mean I’ve rarely seen eyes like yours. Fuck. It’s like looking out at the ocean, trying to read it as the weather’s changing. Perfect lips. The most adorable freckles and the tiniest little nose. You’re like a sexy…bunny.”
I was so confused. Dex was laying on the compliments like I’ve never heard him do before, all the while watching a naked chick gyrate on a pole. The absurdity levels were overflowing tonight.
I didn’t know what to say…did he just say I was gorgeous? Did he just compare me to a rabbit? But he ended up turning his face to meet mine, looking surprised at my dumb expression.
“Speechless? That’s a start.”
At that, the waitress came by and plunked our drinks down. Dex slipped her $25 bucks with a wink. In turn, she winked at me and sauntered off.
“Has no one ever complimented you before?” he asked honestly, once she had left. He pushed my drink into my hands even though I wasn’t done with the other one.
I shook my head. I mean, I’ve heard I was cute. And I knew I wasn’t as bad as my ego wanted me to believe. When I called myself fat, I knew I wasn’t actually fat anymore (though I definitely was back in the day), I just knew I was miles from perfect. And if I wasn’t perfect, like Jenn, like these girls stripping, like the women on TV, then what was the point? I might as well give up.
He was watching me closely. I focused my eyes on his.
“Can you see the ocean now?” I challenged.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You don’t believe me. But you want to. You still think you’re fat. Or something. You think those f**ktards on the internet are on to something.”
That actually is what I was about to think next. His insightfulness was crazy. Was I really that easy to read?
“I really hate you sometimes,” I blurted out.
He shrugged. “I don’t blame you. I hate myself too sometimes. Often. Look, I brought my partner to a strip club while on assignment, and not a very good strip club at that. We might as well be at Hooters. I guess I am just a pervert with ra**st facial hair.”
“Well, you’re my kind of pervert,” I said. And then immediately regretted it. You’re my kind of pervert? What the hell was that? So, I covered it up with, “And I probably don’t need this drink.”
“Yeah you do. So do I.” He downed his drink and moved on to the next one. He stared down at the fizzy bubbles for a beat, taking in a deep breath.
“Honestly kiddo? You’re beautiful. You use your weight as an excuse but you’re just all woman. Not every woman has to look like a stripper. Or a model. Or Megan Fox. You’re petite, have a tiny waist, a fantastic rack, a devastating ass…what the hell more do you want? You should know it. Everyone else knows it…that’s why you’re getting all these asinine comments. Can’t you just see that it’s just jealously that’s ripping these people apart?”
I swallowed hard, my cheeks still burning, my heart pounding hard against my ribcage. I felt tingly, dizzy, awkward. The man I loved just told me how beautiful I was. I could barely explain it. How could he just say these things to me? Didn’t he know?
“And now I’ve embarrassed you. Which was my plan.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “So you didn’t mean any of that?”
He grinned at me. His eyes looked a bit sloppy. He was feeling the bourbon as well.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, slapping the table with his palm and heading off towards what I assumed were the bathrooms. Probably to jerk off. Though at this point, I wasn’t exactly sure who he would be jerking off about. I could pretty much guarantee it wasn’t Jenn for once. I’d be lying if I didn’t have a sick, twisted little thrill about that. That was fantasy fodder for later.
I sat back in the booth and carefully sipped my new drink. It was much stronger than the other one. Bartender probably poured me a triple. I didn’t drink all that often and tonight I think I drank more than I had all year. But I did feel relaxed…despite everything that had been going on. Despite the comments and my parents and Creepy Clown Lady telling me people would be coming to take me away…
OK, I probably shouldn’t have thought of that last one. Suddenly her face was all I saw. I shut my eyes hard, hoping to will it away, hoping her disembodied, foreign voice wouldn’t infiltrate my senses and barge into a place I had protected. I was at a strip club with Dex. That alone was enough for me to focus on.
When I opened my eyes again I was shocked to see a woman standing in front of me. But it wasn’t Creepy Clown Lady – far from it. It was Marla, the redhaired ravisher. She was clothed again, this time in tight club gear. She smiled at me with perfect teeth, which had me calculating how much they would have cost and how much she made a night.
I stared at her teeth for so long that she stepped forward and put her hand on the table, leaning forward.
“So, how about this?” she purred, her voice somewhere between cat and lion.
“Uhhh,” I stuttered, not sure what she meant.
“It’s your call. Want to do it here?”
“What?”
“Your boyfriend bought me, silly. For you.”
I looked over her shoulder and saw Dex slowly making his way over, another drink in his hand. He stopped a yard away, leaned against the wall and just watched us. It was…weird. Unnerving. Perverted.
I gave the girl, Marla, an innocent look. “I don’t think he meant to buy you…least not for me.”