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The Space Between Us Page 14
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I gave her the muffin and her change. I didn’t want her to walk away just yet. “So…when?”
“Tonight, of course,” Meredith said. “Tomorrow night, too. The day after that…”
“Stop.” I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re being silly.”
She gave me an arch look, tossed her change carelessly into her purse and hung the strap higher on her shoulder. “So. Not tonight?”
“No, tonight’s fine.” I couldn’t stop the smile. “It’ll be great.”
“Oh, I know that.” She winked at me and moved off to her favorite table at the front, where she opened her laptop and started doing whatever it was she did for hours. Darek moved behind me, startling me a bit when I backed up a step and bumped into him. I laughed. He didn’t.
“So, you and her?”
Apparently our smiles hadn’t been secret enough. “What about me and her?”
“You’re going out with Meredith?”
I gave him a curious look. “Sort of. Why? I mean…”
A sudden, horrid thought struck me. I’d never thought of Darek as dating material and had been pretty sure he didn’t think it of me, either. We had each other’s phone numbers and were friends on Connex, but never socialized outside of the Mocha.
“She’s married,” he pointed out.
“Well…yeah.” It wasn’t any of Darek’s business what I was up to with Meredith and Charlie, even if I was the sort to spread my business. Which I’m not.
Darek shrugged and moved around me to get to the toaster, so he could put in a bagel. I didn’t really want to talk about it with him, so when we got a little rush of customers I was happy to take care of them instead of discussing my dating life with him.
By the time I had a chance for a breather, Meredith had gone. I tried not to be disappointed, and didn’t manage very well. She’d left something for me, though. Another napkin, this one deliberately imprinted with a lipstick kiss and one word scrawled on it.
Tonight.
Chapter 22
Cue the trippy montage set to something bouncy, like an old Partridge Family song.
I saw Charlie and Meredith ten nights out of fourteen over the next two weeks. We went to dinner or the movies, we sat in little clubs and listened to live music, we made out in the parking lot and had breakfast in a diner at three in the morning. Charlie called me five minutes after I left them, and we talked for another hour on the phone. Meredith came into the coffee shop and sent me naughty texts while she sat only a few feet away. Me and Charlie, Charlie and Meredith (though never me and Meredith)—we kissed and touched and stroked and sucked and fucked.
We glutted ourselves with each other.
I’d had a crush on Meredith since the first time I saw her, but Charlie…oh, he was something else. Generous, amiable and not easily ruffled, unlike his wife, who tended to go off on tangents and get worked up about things that left me and Charlie sitting back, silent and watchful, until she turned to us and broke into laughter. He was kind. Thoughtful. Polite. He had a dry but exquisitely tuned sense of humor. Two weeks isn’t a long time in terms of a relationship, but it didn’t take me long to feel like I knew Charlie.
Meredith was out at one of her home parties, this time for Jangle Bangles, but had told me to go to their house after work and wait for her to get home, since she planned on being back by early evening. This left me and Charlie alone for the first time since this had all started, and though I’d spent hours talking with him on the phone, actually being with him without Meredith between us felt new and awkward and unbearably exciting.
I’d brought something to read and occupy myself with while we waited for Meredith to get home. Charlie kissed me at the door, but then settled in on the couch with his stack of papers to be graded. I sat on the other end, my feet tucked beneath me. We were silent together for a good fifteen or twenty minutes before he looked up with a yawn.
“Whatcha reading?”
I held up the worn paperback I’d been rereading. “It’s called Boy’s Life.”
“Is it good?”
“One of my favorites.” I showed him the cover. “Robert McCammon. Have you read him?”
Charlie shook his head. “No. I’m a big King fan. Koontz, Barker. Clegg. I mostly read horror and science fiction.”
I laughed. “You’d like McCammon, then. This one’s a weird sort of Bradbury kind of story, but he’s written some excellent horror stuff. You like scary movies, too?”
“My favorite. Not that torture porn stuff,” Charlie warned. “But a good psychological horror, or paranormal. I love zombies.”
“Me, too! 28 Days Later?”
We beamed at each other, connecting on yet another whole new level that had nothing to do with our crotches.
“Yeah, that one. Have you seen A Tale of Two Sisters? It’s Korean.” Charlie shuddered. “Scared the living shit out of me.”
“N-o-o-o-o,” I breathed. “But I love Asian horror, all that black hair all over the place, and it’s so creepy and horrifying! I’d love to watch it. I’ll have to rent it.”
“Oh, I have it on DVD. We could…” Charlie hesitated just for a second. “You could borrow it. Or we could watch it together. I mean, I’d feel like a real jerk if I sent you home with it and you had to watch it alone.”
“I’d like that, Charlie.”
We shared a smile.
“Like what?” Meredith, laden with her purse and the suitcase she used to transport her jewelry samples, had come in, unnoticed, from the garage.
“Horror flicks. Tesla loves horror.” Charlie got up to help her with the suitcase.
She shot me a look as she let him take it. “Does she? How nice that you have something in common.”
“You don’t like horror, huh?” I jumped up to greet her. “How come?”
She shrugged and kissed Charlie, then hugged me. “Just don’t. Mmm, you smell good. What is that?”
I paused to sniff my wrist. “Oh, it’s a perfume oil I picked up at the farmer’s market. It’s called Steam Dreams.”
She leaned closer, breathing deep. “I like it. It smells like you.”
“I guess that’s good, since I’m wearing it.”
She gave me a look I’d seen her give Charlie many times. “Smart-ass. Are you both ready to go? Just give me a couple minutes to change, let me get rid of this crap.”
She jangled one of her bangles, already unclipping it from her wrist.
Charlie glanced at the couch. “I have a few more papers to grade. I need about another hour, maybe?”
She frowned. “I thought you were going to be done by the time I got home.”
“I’ll help you, Charlie. I can grade papers with you while Meredith gets ready,” I offered.
He seemed surprised. “Really?”
She was already leaving us, glancing over her shoulder. “Good. Kick him into gear, Tesla, I’m going to take a quick shower and stuff, too, since it looks like I have time.”
When she’d gone, Charlie looked at me. “You don’t have to.”
“Hey, it ain’t no thing.” I shrugged. “I guess if I can’t correct some third-grade papers, I’d better be ashamed of myself, huh? Unless maybe it’s social studies—is it? Because, I’ll be honest, I’m shit with remembering the names of the conquistadores and stuff.”
“Nope. Spelling sentences. I think you can handle it.”
I grinned. “Do I give extra points for creativity?”
Charlie’s fingertip traced the edge of my bangs, along my forehead just above my eyebrows. Featherlight, a whisper of a touch. It sent shivers all through me. We shared another smile, something secret, just for us.
“You should,” Charlie said.
Chapter 23
Meredith said she had a surprise for us. I wasn’t sure about Charlie, but I knew I was surprised where she took us. Samantha’s was classier than I’d expected. When she said strip club, I pictured neon lights and women who looked like maybe they’d been hit one too many ti
mes in the face with the ugly stick. Instead, we walked into a classy, dark-wood-paneled room with tastefully erotic portraits on the walls and a nice bar surrounding a stage setup with two poles that reached all the way to the super-high ceiling. The room also had small, separate areas set back from the stage with comfy-looking couches and booths.
“I’m starving,” Meredith said as she linked her arm through mine. “What do you want to eat?”
“They serve food here?”
“They serve anything you want here,” she told me with a laugh, and nudged me with her hip. “But the burgers are really good. Let’s sit at the bar. Charlie, c’mon.”
He had been hanging back just a bit to adjust his belt, which he’d taken off to step through the metal detector at the front door. Now he caught up with us. “What’s that?”
“The bar. Let’s get a seat at the bar.” Meredith sounded a little impatient. “And order some food.”
“Sounds good to me.” Charlie shot me a grin and linked my other arm with his. “What does Tesla want?”
“Tesla wants a burger,” I told him. “And a beer, I guess.”
Meredith snagged us three seats along the bar. “And to see some naked titties.”
“Well, who doesn’t want to see that?” Charlie said.
The waitress who slid a set of coasters in front of us was young, pretty, a little chubbier than I’d have expected, but with enormous breasts surging out of the corset she wore tight enough to give her an hourglass shape. She also wore cute boy-cut shorts and fishnet stockings and a pair of those curve-bottomed sneakers. Not at all like I expected. She gave me a wink as she handed the three of us menus.
“Mixed drinks are on special for the next twenty minutes,” she offered. “Food’s listed there on the menu, along with our cigar list and beers on tap.”
“Hey, burgers,” Charlie said, and waved the menu toward Meredith.
My stomach rumbled a little. “She said they were good.”
Charlie looked across me to his wife. “Are they?”
Her attention was focused on the stage, where a woman had just arrived. Meredith barely looked at her husband. “Huh? How would I know?”
“You said—” I began, and stopped when she shot me a look.
“I heard they were good. That’s all.” Meredith turned back to the stage, where the woman had shimmied out of her long mesh dress and begun a spinning routine on the pole. “Impressive. Look at that.”
There was no mistaking her envious tone, and I had to admit I felt a little the same. In the dim light it was still easy to see the stripper had a few wrinkles, a little bit of cellulite, but she was amazing on that pole. She’d climbed halfway up to the thirty-foot ceiling, then hung there just using her thighs. Her hair fanned out as she spun.
“The pole’s spinning, not the girl,” Charlie commented. Then, quieter, “I hope she doesn’t fall.”
Meredith snorted soft laughter. “Leave it to Charlie to worry about safety. Focus on her boobies, honey. That’s what you’re paying to see. Speaking of, give me that stack of dollars. I’ve been collecting them for weeks,” she told me, and handed me a few from the stack Charlie passed her. “Here. Crumple them up and toss ’em.”
That seemed sort of rude, but it was what everyone else who wasn’t sitting within G-string tucking distance was doing. Crumpled dollars and wolf whistles filled the air as the dancer loosened her grip on the pole and slid down, stopping just as the tips of her long blond hair brushed the floor. Then she arched her back and flipped herself over to land on her five-inch platform shoes.
“God,” Meredith muttered. “Would you just fucking look at that.”
I was happy to look. I didn’t have to be a connoisseur of strippers to appreciate her talents. When she turned to send a smile our way, I was happy to toss her a crumpled dollar bill. It bounced off her bare breasts, and she caught it neatly in one hand, then dropped me a wink and bent to pick up her mesh dress before sashaying off the stage.
“I wish I could do that,” Meredith said.
“Pole dance?” Charlie peered around me to look at her. “I bet you could. We could set one up in the living room.”
I knew he was joking, but Meredith rolled her eyes. “That would go great with our decor, right?”
More and more girls started coming out. Two got up on the stage to do pole work, while the woman who’d already danced started mingling with the customers. Some other dancers came out, too, more than one of them wearing fancy gowns I’d have expected to see at a cocktail party, not a strip club.
“Hey, I’m Donna. How you all doing tonight?” The woman who’d been dancing a few minutes before had changed from the mesh dress into a tiny plaid skirt with a buttoned-up shirt left half open, the hem tied over her tan belly. Her breasts spilled out, helped along by a really great push-up bra I envied. Her gaze slid over me and Charlie, snagged for a moment on Meredith, then moved back to me. “Hey, darlin’. Cute top.”
“I was just thinking the same about yours. And the skirt, too.” I didn’t really love it, but there’s never any point in being mean. She worked hard for the money.
“This old thing?” She winked again and leaned casually against the bar next to Charlie. “So, is this your first time here?”
“Yes,” Charlie said.
Her gaze went to him, her smile a little broader. “Well, handsome, just so you know in case they didn’t tell you, private dances are twenty a song, and I’ll do a special for couples. Two for one.”
She looked at me, I guess because I was sitting next to him. “Whattaya say, honey? Want to treat your husband to something special?”
“He’s my husband,” Meredith said, though not with malice. I think she liked surprising people. “And does your special go for triples?”
You’d think strippers would be hard to surprise, but the woman’s eyebrows lifted before she looked again at me. “Can’t say I’ve ever done three at a time before, but…sure. Why not? Tell you what, you pay for three songs, and I’ll do the three of you. How’s that?”
Charlie hadn’t said much this entire time, though he didn’t seem to mind the dancer’s arm brushing his or the way her hip nudged him when she shifted. “What a bargain.”
She glanced at him. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”
Meredith hopped off the bar stool and stood, her eyes gleaming in that way I’d come to know so well. “Good. Let’s go.”
Charlie and I exchanged looks. I was up for it, and I couldn’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t be. Yet he hung back with more hesitation than simple politeness. His hand went to the small of my back as we followed Meredith and the dancer through the crowd, which had doubled since we came in. Our seats at the bar were quickly taken.
“You sure about this?” he murmured in my ear as we moved toward the back of the bar, down a short hallway past the restrooms and into a smaller room with a bouncer at the door.
I paused to face Charlie, though Meredith had already followed the dancer into the room. “Sure. Why…aren’t you?”
“I’ve never had a lap dance before.” He looked adorable almost all the time, but just then I wanted to eat him up.
Meredith stuck her head out from the doorway. “What are you doing? C’mon.”
Charlie’s fingers tightened in mine. “Better not keep her waiting.”
“No. She doesn’t like that.” I tugged him. “C’mon, Charlie. Let’s pop your lap dance cherry.”
“Have you had one?” he asked as we went past the bouncer and the cashier just inside the doorway, where Charlie pulled out his credit card for her to swipe.
I shook my head, looking over the room, which featured about ten of the same booths that were out in the main area, except these had even higher backs and sides to provide for total privacy from the ones next to it. “Nope.”
“So we’re both popping our cherries tonight.” Charlie signed the slip and tucked his card and the receipt in his wallet, then put it in his pocket. He le
aned to brush his lips against my temple, then tugged my hand. “C’mon.”
“Tesla, you sit between us.” Meredith wriggled on the velvet seat and patted it. “Charlie, you sit there.”
She was orchestrating us, as usual. We sat as Donna watched us, looking amused. She toyed with the crisscross-tied hem of her shirt. When we were settled, she unbuttoned it swiftly and shrugged out of the bra, leaving herself in the tiny skirt.
“I can take this off or leave it on,” she offered, turning to show us how the skirt flipped up to show off her ass in a lacy thong. She looked at us over her shoulder and wiggled her hips from side to side. “Your choice.”
“Off.” Meredith clapped her hands and bounced on the seat, shaking me against Charlie.
I had to laugh at her. “I dunno, I sort of like it on.”
“Charlie,” Meredith said. “Tiebreaker.”
I thought he’d choose what she wanted, so it surprised me when he said, “On. I like it. It’s sexy.”
Meredith looked surprised, too, and not that happy, but she shrugged. “On, then.”
Donna glanced toward the cashier and held up three fingers, getting a nod back that probably signified Charlie had indeed paid for three dances. The music started a few seconds later. She’d danced to something fast earlier, but now a slow and sexy song filtered through the speakers. “No Ordinary Love” by Sade.
“One of my favorites,” Charlie murmured, before he had a faceful of giant breasts and a lapful of stripper.
It can’t have been easy, dancing for three, but God bless her, Donna did her best. She moved back and forth, sitting on each of our laps and rubbing her ass along us, then turning to press our faces into her ample boobs. She smelled good. Her skin was soft. I liked the weight of her on my lap, and I liked when she sat on Charlie’s lap next to me and arched her back so that her face was pressed alongside his and her tits pushed up to the ceiling. She ground against us, one at a time, then added in the stroke of a hand or a flirty look to make sure that even as she pressed against one of us, another still got some attention.