First Dance (Strip in the City, Book 3)

03 • Bachelorette Party Blues

Kennedy

I've never thought of Lucas as anything more than my smiling, goofy, and unfairly good-looking friend.

How could I? He never takes anything seriously.

But when I see him kneeling in front of me, like some knight in shinin' denim, vowing that he's gonna do whatever he can to make things right for me, I swear I see him in a whole new light.

"Why are you so good to me?" I ask.

He flashes me a grin–the one that makes his dimples pop, and my stomach somersaults.

"It's a hard job, but somebody's gotta do it," he says, extending his hand. I stare at it for what feels like forever. My thoughts racing faster than Seabiscuit.

For some unknown reason, I start imagining what it would be like if we got closer.

I wonder what it would be like if, instead of pulling me off the bed, he flatted me against the mattress. Tracing the edges of my thighs, spreading them open wide for him. Treating me less like a friend and more like one of the girls he dances for on stage.

No. I wanted more than just a hot dance.

That thought picks up a lot of momentum, as I imagine...more. A hot, tingling feeling forms low in my stomach, and I can't remember the last time I felt something like that.

I swallow hard as heat pulses in my cheeks. I'm not usually the girl who thinks about things like that, and I'm surprised by the intensity of it.

He lifts his eyebrows and gives me that shit-eating grin, and I know I'm being silly.

He is a one-night-stand kind of guy. I was the find your true love and marry them type of girl. Just like everyone in my family.

Sure, I might enjoy one night with him, but that's not what I'm looking for. Not even to get back at Flynn for ruining our wedding.

Besides, our friendship meant too dang much just to throw it all away because I'm hurt and horny.

Swallowing all those lurid, terrible thoughts, I slide my hand into Lucas's and let him pull me off the bed.

"So," he says casually as we make our way out of the bedroom. "What can I do to make tonight better?"

Another lurid thought pops into my brain, and I promptly push it back down. Not happening.

"Don't let my cousins near me," I tell him as I lace my arm through his, trying to ignore how good it feels to lean into him. "They'll harass me about every wedding detail, and I-I can't do that right now."

Tears rise in my throat, and I shake my head like it will make them go away.

He covers my hand with his and suggestively lifts his eyebrows. "Don't worry. I'm very good at distracting cousins."

Maybe he's making a joke, but an image of Clara and Sarah getting tossed on the mattress replaces the one I had seconds ago, and for whatever reason, the idea of Lucas distracting them hits a little too hard.

I force myself to smile and roll my eyes instead of acknowledging that crazy feeling. I have absolutely no right to say who Lucas can and can't dance for.

When we turn the corner on the stairs, and some thirty-odd girls come into view, including my gossipy cousins, I tell myself this is a beauty pageant, and I've got all these judges in front of me. If I want to win, I gotta put on a good show.

Tan announces me and tells all my guests that this is my very last hoedown and that we need to make it memorable or something like that. I tune it all out and go full dissociate.