Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Since it’s a beautiful day, we walk and become best friends with the bottle, and by the time we’re pushing through the door of the dancing studio, the bottle is just about finished. Hell, now that there’s alcohol pulsing through my system, I’m pretty damn excited about this. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try but never had the guts to do.
We introduce ourselves to our instructor and she directs us to the other group of beginners, who have already started to rid themselves of their clothes. Bri and I follow suit and strip off our tanks and track pants while doing our best to hold in our tipsy giggles. I kick off my flip-flops and find my bag as Bri does the same, only to start wobbling as we try to pull on our hooker heels.
The second we’re ready to go, we take a look at ourselves in the mirror, which covers the full front of the room. “I’ve got to say, Bri, I’m excited now,” I tell her.
Her eyes glisten with excitement. “I knew you would be.”
As the rest of the girls finish getting themselves ready, we crouch down around my bag and sneak another swig from the wine bottle. I stand up a little too quickly and realize I’m probably a little tipsier than I thought, but I honestly couldn’t care less.
Bri notices the happy glaze in my eyes, and I giggle seeing the same look in hers. Yeah, this is going to be fun.
The instructor pumps us all up and says she’s ready to get into it, then turns to put on some music as we spread out through the room and find ourselves a pole. Bri and I head to the back of the room to keep ourselves out of the limelight, knowing damn well this will only end in disaster.
Our spot is right by a massive window, but for once I can’t seem to care. Instead, all we can manage to do is giggle like school girls at the intrigued faces of the men and women walking by.
Our instructor gets us started off with a sexy warm-up dance that has us swaying our hips, smacking our thighs, bending low, and shaking our asses. Even though we can hardly keep up with the moves, we’re both having the time of our lives.
We watch as the instructor places a hand on her pole, positions her feet, and allows herself to spin around it. I gawk in awe. I know it’s super basic, but I’m fucking impressed. Bri and I give each other a grin before taking hold of our poles and giving it a try. We both drastically fuck up our first time, but after trying it a few more times, we eventually get the hang of it.
Next, we move on to learning how to climb the pole, which manages to sober me up real fucking fast. I mean, damn, this shit is hard, but my determination is strong. So far it has proven to be an amazing workout, and I know my arms, stomach, and thighs will be killing me come tomorrow. Hell, I’ll probably be feeling it by later this afternoon.
We’re about an hour in when we start learning the really cool stuff, like flipping upside down and something the instructor calls a superman move, and I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying myself. The majority of the booze has worn off, but I don’t need it anymore.
There are women of all shapes and sizes in here, and not one has turned up her nose at another or watched another with lustful eyes. It makes me feel like this is a place I would happily come back to. The whole place is a vibe, and I’m grateful that Bri forced me into this.
I turn to Bri, who’s currently upside down on the pole but struggling to find grip and slowly sliding down. “Thanks,” I smile, knowing that without her, this never would have happened. I’d be sitting at home, sulking about Jax and how I haven’t spoken to him in nearly a week. Instead, I’m here, upside down on a stripper pole, getting my sexy back with a plan to get my man back.
“What do you say about making this a weekly class?” She grins as she attempts that last move again.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I reply before getting back into my own moves.
Chapter 8
JAXON
Bobby and I sit in his truck on the way to the ice rink for our first game of the season when we’re stopped by the afternoon roadwork. “For fuck’s sake,” Bobby groans, looking out his window with a bored expression. “Why do they have to do this on a weekday and always at the worst time? What’s wrong with weekends or nights?”
I nod my head, not really caring about his issues with the roadwork. They’ve been doing them for the past three months. It’s not like he didn’t know they would be here, and yet he still came this way instead of taking the back streets like I suggested. Though, I don’t think an I told you so would be appreciated right now.