Page 21 of Next Time We'll Fall
“It was for research.” She licks her lips and nods.
“Research?” I stare at her for a couple of seconds before turning back to face the road.
“What research?”
“I am going to write a romance book.”
“You’re writing a romance book? I had no idea.”
“Why would you have any idea? It’s not like we’ve talked about it.”
“I suppose not. So, what did tonight have to do with you writing a romance book?”
“Well, the girl has to get a job as a …” She pauses and licks her lips. “As a stripper to take care of her young brother, and I just kind of wanted to see what it felt like to be in a position like that without actually having to strip.”
“So, you’re saying that you decided to enter a wet T-shirt competition because you wanted it to act as research for the book that you’re writing about a stripper who’s looking after heryoung brother?” The words sound incredulous, and I can tell she knows I’m not buying it.
“Well, yes. I don’t suppose you’ve read many romance books, Rafe, but many of them have plots that are based upon women having to do things that they don’t want to do to take care of someone. And in my book, she has to take care of her younger brother …”
“Because she can’t get a job with Walmart or McDonald’s, right? She has to be a stripper.”
“Well, obviously, the plot dictates that she’s stripping for a reason.” She sounds defensive. “Anyway, I know you wouldn’t understand because you’re a vet, and you don’t really read, and you don’t know anything about romance plots, and?—”
“No, I respect it. If you decided you were going to do this wet T-shirt competition as research for a book, then who am I to stop you?” I pull into the parking lot and turn off the ignition and face her.
“What do you mean, who are you to stop me? Are you going to take me back?”
“No. But wouldn’t you rather practice on someone you know than some strange guy?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you entered a T-shirt competition to see what it felt like to be a stripper, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, why not practice on me? Someone you know. Actually give me a lap dance or pretend to be stripping, if you need to do research that badly.”
Her lower lip trembles, and she stares at me, blinking rapidly.
I know I’ve called her bluff.
I know she’s not writing any romance books.
Why has she never mentioned it before?
“I just …” She licks her lips nervously. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rafe.”
“Why not? Don’t you still need to get the research?”
“No, because I kind of already know what it’s like to be uncomfortable, and I …”
She blushes profusely, and I can’t help but stare at her lips. She’s gorgeous.
“Well, the offer stands if you need to practice. I mean, better me than some random guy?”
“But you’re Mia’s brother, and that would just feel icky.”
The way she saidickymakes me frown, like it’s something that would make her throw up.
