Pops stands next to me and scratches his chin.

"Carburetor?"

"Yeah. I'll have to adjust the jets. Hope it'll be enough."

"Good. Do it tomorrow."

"Why not today?"

"Cause you've been working your ass off all week, Son. It's almost Friday. Don't you have a life?"

The twinkle in Pops' eyes brings a smile to my lips. "I do. Kinda. Okay, I'm gonna see Mac."

Pops nods. I put away the tools and wash my hands. My gaze lands on the box sitting on the shelf, and Dad sees it.

"Those are nice for a girl."

"I know." I sigh and glance at the boots I ordered for Kitten. They arrived an hour ago, and I have to figure out how to give them to her without running into her.

Dad gives me an eyebrow wiggle and slaps my shoulder on his way to the office.

"Later, Pops!" I say as I grab the bag and exit the garage.

Kitten isn't home. I saw her leave the house with Grace. They must have started getting along better. It's not the first time they've gone out together over the last few days, not that I keep tabs.

I don't.

Fuck. Of course, I do.

There's nothing worse than the bullshit you feed yourself when you're in denial. I'm afraid I might be.

I have a genius idea to climb the ladder and open Kitten's window, leaving her new boots on the windowsill. I should write a note, but she'll know they're from me, anyway.

The next thing I do is hop on Fat Boy and ride to the gym. Mac's wrapping up a self-defense class with a girl, and I do a set of warm-ups, waiting for him.

"Hey, Bri," he says, slightly out of breath. "How's it going?"

"Okay. You?"

"All good. Too much work, but I'm not complaining."

"Of course, you're not." I snicker. The gym is Mac's baby. It's on his list of great loves right under Annie cause the chick will always come first.

"What do you wanna do? Boxing, weights?"

"Both."

"Rough week?"

I shake my head but forget that Mac can read me like an open book. The fucker has known me since we were babies with tiny dicks.

"Spill it while we're alone. I guess this shit isn't for Lenny's ears, and he's stopping by soon," Mac says.

I wrap my hands, slide on the boxing gloves, and punch the leather bag. "You guessed right. I took Leah to my grandparents' last weekend."

"Leah, as in Annie's new friend?"

My punches stop. "They're friends now?"

Mac grins. "Yeah, she's been at our place a couple of times. A cool chick. Not your type."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Chuckling, Mac nods at the bag, silently asking me to hit it. "Well, you used to put the ho in whore. No offense."

"None taken, but the key words are used to."

"Holy fuck, not anymore?"

"Asshat," I mutter.

"Okay, so you took her to that romantic cabin on the beach and got your dick wet. Anything else?"

"I got nothing wet, jerk. We kissed, and that's it."

Mac takes a step back and raises his hands. "Who are you? I don't know you!"

"Shut up." I groan. "I had fun and laughed more than I have in forever. And she's cool to chat with. I've never had anything to talk about with a chick, but with Leah, it's different. So different that I haven't texted her in days when I said I would."

"You're ghosting her like Casper," Mac says and hums the tune from Ghostbusters.

"Fuck you. I'm serious, dude. She's just—"

"What?"

"Good. She's good, and I'm a recovering whore who almost—" I say, throwing a series of punches.

"Stop that shit." Mac stills the swaying bag.

I take off the gloves and remove the tape. "I'm right. She's thinking about college and shit, and wait till she knows how many chicks I fucked just because I felt like it. I'm not good for her."

"Everyone has a past, Bri. It doesn't define you. You could be screwing one of many Bellas now, but you're here, talking to me. That should tell you something. And if you like her and she likes you, let her decide if she wants to date you."

Another groan leaves my mouth as I grab a towel and wipe the sweat off my forehead and temples.

Mac chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm gonna mark this day in the fucking calendar as the end of the Whore Era."

This time, I laugh, too. "Thanks, honey."

Mac flips me off, and we turn our heads at the sound of Lenny's footsteps.

"Hey, dudes."

We shake hands and exchange our usual insults. Lenny grins at the two of us. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

Mac says nothing, awaiting my reply. He always has plans with Annie, but he tries to accompany me if I want to go out.

"I guess not. Why?"

"I wanna hit the strip club."

Mac huffs, "The Sixty-Nine"?

"Yeah. They have new dancers. Are you in? Pretty please. Everyone else bailed. I only have you."

I get why Mac's hesitant to agree. It's not easy to explain to your girl you're gonna see other chicks shake their stuff in your face. He'd never cheat, wouldn't even pay attention, but the place is what it is.

Lenny looks at me and folds his hands under his chin. "Please? Bri, you'd never say no to that."

"Okay," I say.

Mac sighs. "Same."

Lenny grins like a virgin dude who finally got lucky. "Awesome. Drinks on me."

We high-five the fucker, and he rushes to add, "One round."

***

It's Friday the following day. I'm sitting in Mac's car while we're waiting for Lenny, who's taking forever to get ready.

"What did you tell Annie?" I ask.

Mac shrugs. "The truth. She knows I'm not into that shit. I'll watch you drink, sip my soda, and then go home to my girl."

"Fucking saint."

Mac punches my bicep. "You'll get it one day when you pull your head out of your ass and ask Leah out for real. She's at our place again, by the way. They're painting nails and doing girls' shit, watching ripped dudes profess eternal love to their women. How the fuck are we supposed to act when the expectations are set so high?"

I laugh at Mac, and Lenny chooses that moment to open the car door. The dude must've poured the entire bottle of cologne on his clothes. We cough, and the fucker's face turns crimson.

"It spilled, dickheads."

"Whatever, darling." Mac smirks, starting the engine.

The drive's almost forty minutes long because the club's out of town. Judging by the absence of free spots in the parking lot, the place is crammed. I'm familiar with it. Once, I went there with Jimmy while visiting Pops. The owner's a good customer, and I can buy booze. That might be the reason Lenny asked me to come.

"Okay, let's go," I say.

Mac parks and we saunter toward the club with neon pink letters on its facade.

I greet the bouncer, Mike, and he lets us in, no questions asked. Inside, we occupy a table at the side of the stage. Mac's our DD. He orders soda; Lenny and I go for some Jack.

Lenny can't tear his gaze away from the pretty girl gyrating in front of us. She has all the right things in all the right places, but I'm unimpressed. I take out my phone and scroll through the contact list.

Mac wiggles his eyebrows and nudges my arm. I roll my eyes, shrugging.

The stripper sheds her bra, showing a decent pair of tits. The garment flies into the crowd of horny fuckers. Lenny gapes at the show, and Mac and I chuckle into our fists.

I order another shot, bored to death.

A different girl takes the center of the stage. Her brown hair reminds me of Kitten. I miss the chick more than I want to and more than I should. She's at the forefront of my mind all the time. Maybe that's why I almost miss it when Mac jabs me in the ribs.

"Fuck! What's wrong with you?"

"Trying to make you pay attention, dick. To your left."

I turn my head and almost choke on my drink. Fer is there with his nerd squad, drooling at the dark-haired dancer. The asshole's dressed in a polo and khaki pants. The only thing he's missing is a bookbag.

"Ain't that the little prince?" Mac chuckles. "Look at him being in such an indecent place. Fuck my life. I thought I needed my eyesight tested."

I shake with laughter, and so does Lenny when he looks in Fer's direction and sees why we almost lost our shit.

"We have to drink to that," he says.

"You do you, boys," Mac says, boredom on his face.

There aren't any servers in sight. "I'll get you another soda," I tell Mac, getting up. "On the rocks, Leonard?"

He nods, and I make my way to the bar.

"Soda and two whiskeys on the rocks," I say, leaning my elbows on the wood countertop.

The bartender nods and goes to fix the drinks. I'm distracted as I pull some bills out of my wallet. I'd rather pay now in case we have to leave fast. Sometimes in these places, shit gets ugly, and I don't wanna take risks. I want to stay here even less after I've seen Ferdinand and his buddies.

My eyes scan the bar area and land on one of the waitresses. "I can't fucking believe it," I mutter to myself as the guy places my order in front of me.

He takes the money, but I can't look away from Grace. Kitten's prudish mother, who refused to accept a well-paid job with Pops, is waitressing in a club full of horny men, lying to her daughter.

She's wearing a tight dress, and makeup covers her face. The sight makes me irate but also sad. I carry the drinks to our table, and as I sit, scowling, I realize the biggest problem isn't even Grace's shitty choices. Ferdinand might have seen her, and I don't trust that prick enough to think he won't use the sensitive information to hurt Kitten or her mother.

"What's wrong?" Mac asks.

I down my shot and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "I'm out. If you wanna stay, do it."

"No lap dances for me tonight." Lenny sighs.

"Another time, fucker," I say, jumping to my feet and shoving my arms in the sleeves of my jacket.

Fucking Ferdinand spots me and raises his glass in greeting, making me wanna throw up.

Quiet, I look out of the window on the journey in Mac's Honda. Mac doesn't push. I'll tell him everything later.

"Stop here," I say when we're on my street.

"Your house is down the road, dude," Mackenzie says.

I squeeze his shoulder and shake Lenny's hand. "I've got somewhere to be," I say, getting out of the vehicle. "Thanks for the ride."