I don’t know what casino I’m at. Wherever it is, it’s loud, filled with people and exotic dancers in tiny cages and glass boxes. I love the atmosphere and the way excitement and anticipation hangs heavily in the air.

“Do you want another?” Seth shouts into my ear and I look at him over my shoulder.

He’s had as many shots as I have, but he seems hardly affected by the alcohol, unlike me. My eyesight sways and I see two of him before they merge back into one. If only there were two of him…the things I would do…He smiles down at me, amused, and I realize I haven’t responded to his question. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off.

“Maybe not.” His warm hand engulfs my elbow. “Come on.”

I hold onto him as he pulls me over to Darryl, who sits on a purple looking couch—or maybe it’s pink. Hell, it could be red for all I know. My eyes aren’t exactly my most reliable source right now and the dark lighting makes it that little bit harder. My head rolls and my heavy eyes threaten to close so I sit down on a small compact arm chair while Seth joins Darryl on the couch.

Darryl slides a shot glass over to me. “For you.”

The thought of having another shot while the last one lingers so freshly at the back of my throat makes me nauseous, but I can’t stop now. Seth sits back on the couch, his arms stretching over the back. He watches me for a few seconds before giving me a nod of the head. Maybe I don’t look as drunk over here as I did at the bar. Without hesitation, I down the shot and surprisingly, it doesn’t burn my throat. I return the glass to the table and let my head roll to the side to rest against the velvet fabric. I’m feeling sleepy, my eyes heavy with the effects of the alcohol. Sleep would be great right now, but as far as everyone else is concerned, the Vegas experience has only just begun. We still have yard glasses to drink from, casinos to throw money at, and cabs to take to nowhere. They feel combining all of their experiences into one huge experience is necessary, but I’m ready to go home—not that I’ll ever admit that. I wanted this. Everyone is drinking because of me—even Seth and Selena. I have to go through with it. I’m a twenty-three year old woman drinking alcohol because she feels bad that her friends are doing it, how pathetic do I sound? I guess the main thing is that I’m feeling a lot better now I’m very well under the influence.

Out of nowhere Jackson and Selena stroll up to our table with more drinks—all shot glasses—some with wedges of lime and a shaker of salt. Selena sits a shot down on the wooden table in front of me and the thought of drinking it makes me sick. She watches me eagerly, enjoying every second of my drunkenness. Unwilling to fail, I force myself forward and reach out for the little cup of mind-numbing, head-spinning, nausea-inducing poison. Before my finger makes it within an inch of the glass, Seth leans forward, taking the shot for himself and buying me a few more conscious seconds. I offer him a small smile and he returns it.

“Last stop on the Vegas experience, The Spearmint Rhino. We’ll spend the rest of the night there and then walk back to MGM.”

“The Spearmint Rhino?” I ask, unsure if my voice is coming out in a slurry fumble or if I’m imagining it.

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“It’s only the greatest strip club in Las Vegas—quite possibly the world!”

I’ve never felt so out of the loop. I rake my fingers through my hair in an attempt to wake myself up. “That’s hardly a sexy name for a strip club…”

“No.” Seth cuts in, leaning back in his seat again. “No strip clubs.”

Selena struts toward me and slowly drops herself into my lap. I rest my head against hers and watch while Jackson folds his arms across his chest. “Olivia wants the Vegas experience. What’s Vegas without a trip to the Spearmint Rhino?”

I swear if I hear the words ‘Vegas experience’ one more time I’m going to puke.

Seth laughs once. “You’re in no position to tell me what she wants, Jackson.”

There’s a small smile on Seth’s lips, but his eyes are dead serious. Both Selena and I groan at the same time, rolling our eyes. Here we go.

“We can go,” I cut in, drawing everyone’s shocked eyes—even Seth’s. “It’s not worth the argument. I said I’d do everything and if going to a strip club is included, then I’ll do it, but I swear to God, if a stripper touches me, I’m out of there.”

I don’t know why strip clubs and strippers freak me out. It’s nothing against them or their profession—I think it’s quite brave to get up and dance for seedy men, although I’d never do it.

Ever. I don’t like that the last stripper invaded my personal space for money. I was never asked by the stripper in Boston if it was okay for her to touch me or kiss me. She took the money and she did what she was told without approval from me. I’m not a homophobe, either. I don’t flinch away from lesbians in the street or treat them differently because of their preference, but if one were to kiss me, I’d freak out, because that isn’t my thing. I don’t kiss girls to impress boys. I don’t see women (no matter how hot they are) and think ‘man, I’d kiss her.’ It’s just not me.

All three of them—Jackson, Selena and Darryl—are excited about my willingness to go to the Mintyfresh Rhino (or whatever the hell he called it). Seth, however, watches me from underneath his brows, his eyes dark and questioning.

“We’ll meet you outside!” Selena squeals and they leave—the lot of them—they leave me alone with Seth and his less than happy state.

I don’t want to be caught alone waiting for him to speak. I know he hates that, so, in one swift and surprisingly sober move, I join him on the couch.

We watch each other for a few seconds, gauging each other’s state. He moves first, leaning forward to bring his mouth toward my ear. My stare follows his full, parted lips right up to the side of my face. “We don’t have to go. If you want to call it quits, I’ll take you home right now.” His voice close to my ear causes pleasant chills to rush through me.

I shake my head. “But the others—”

“Forget them. They’ll go with or without you. Tell me now if you you’re up for it. If you are, I’ll shut my mouth and continue to make sure you’re having a good time. If you’re not, we’ll go home.”

I ponder for a little while. He’s giving me a way out of this whole scenario, but I don’t know if I want to take it. “But if I go home…I’ll have to walk in these heels and my feet are killing me.”

He smiles. “I’ll carry you.”

“You’ll carry me? Do you know how far we are from—wait, where are we?”

Seth’s features straighten and he looks around the club for a sign or something that tells us where the hell we are. I glance down at the table, there are some coasters, but they’re all ripped up or so wet the writing is unreadable. I don’t think he knows where we are, either.

“Let’s go,” I tell him, rising to my feet.

I sway unsteadily for a moment and Seth reaches out, wrapping an arm around my waist. He stabilizes me by pulling me down and onto his lap, flush against his chest. Even in the club I can smell his cologne—it’s fucking sexy—whatever the hell it is. I’ve never smelled it before now and it’s intoxicating. It envelops me and I think it makes the hairs on my body stand on their ends. Then again, it could be the alcohol or the air-conditioning blowing straight down the back of my neck. Being the romantic I am, I’m going to narrow it down to his smell.

“New cologne?” I wonder aloud.

He nods and an excited smile pulls at his lips. “I bought it yesterday. Do you like it?”

“Sur—it’s nic—yeah,” I stutter my answer. I exhale and nod my head instead…how charismatic of me. Seth’s eyes flare at my response and I make a mental note to fill the bath with his perfume when we get back and drown in it.

I clear my throat. “To the Pepper Albino?”

Seth laughs loudly, dropping his head to my shoulder and my body shakes as he laughs into me. Did I say something funny? “What?”

“The Pepper Albino?” He chuckles, pulling back from me.

In the dim light, I see the glimmer of happiness in his eyes and I want to know what made him so happy so I can do it again. And again. And again and—well, you get the picture.

“What the fuck, O? Where’d you pull that name from?”

“What?” I shrug. “That’s what he said.”

“The Spearmint Rhino, is what he said.”

I stare at him for a little while. The Spearmint Rhino? Is that right? It doesn’t sound right. “Oh,” is all I manage to say. Now I feel like an idiot.

My chest hiccups as I randomly spit out a laugh and I quickly slap my hand up to cover my mouth.

“I will forever call that place The Pepper Albino.”

I swat at him, but he pulls back and manages to avoid it. He grabs my hands, pulling me back into him. “and I think I’ll keep you drunk,” he says, kissing my nose.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re funny and you don’t think.”

I arch my eyebrow at him. “Wow. Only you can tell someone they’re dumb and make it sound like a compliment.”

He rolls his brown eyes at me. “That’s not what I meant. When you’re drunk, there are no cog wheels in your eyes as you try to decipher your next move. You do and say things right from the top of your head and I love that. You should do it more often.”

I smile. “See, that’s not going to work. We can’t have two people in this relationship throwing caution to the wind. Someone has to be the responsible one.”

He bites his bottom lip and then rakes his teeth over it. “That’s true, but for tonight, let’s both be reckless and stupid.”

“Reckless and stupid? I like it. Should we add ‘crazy’ and ‘exciting’ to the list while we’re at it?” I suggest, inching my face closer to his and setting my body alight with arousal.

He nods. “And dramatic and passionate.”

“Easy, now. Don’t make promises you can’t keep…”

“I’ve never broken a promise in my life and I’m not going start tonight.”

He grabs the shots and hands one to me before he tips his down his throat. Following his lead, I slam mine back and grit my teeth against the taste as I throw my glass onto the couch. Seth grabs me by the face and crushes his mouth to mine. Tequila floods my taste buds and I gasp into his mouth as his tongue forces more of the flavor into my mouth. He produces a lime from nowhere and my heavy stare drops to his mouth as his wet tongue slips out from between his lips. He licks the lime slowly and brings it to my mouth. I watch him, dazed, as he rubs it along my bottom lip. I part my lips and suck it into my mouth, now he’s the one watching me with a heavy, lust-filled stare. I bite down and sour juice floods my mouth, mixing with my saliva.

I keep watching him as he grabs the salt shaker and opens the lid, dipping his lime moistened finger in. He draws his finger to my mouth, while retrieving the lime with his other hand. He rubs the very tip of his salty finger along my bottom lip and I take his whole finger in my mouth, sucking the salt off. I make sure I swirl my tongue to get every grain. It’s not a coincidence that he’s wants me to suck the salt from his finger. I know he’s fishing to see if I know what I’m doing when it comes to ‘other’ sexual acts. I haven’t taken Seth in my mouth yet, and I know he’s curious to experience it with me. He probably thinks I’m avoiding it because I haven’t done it before. I’ve done it before and I’d say I’m pretty good at it. Every time I’ve done it, I’ve received the appropriate response, but I haven’t done it with Seth because, well, compared to Blade, his penis is a lot bigger. Like, a lot bigger. I’m nervous—or at least I was until I downed a copious amount of shots and he put his finger in my mouth with that sexy look in his eyes. Under the influence, I’m not nervous. I can do it tonight—I will do it tonight.

Selena’s hand convulses around mine, she can barely contain her excitement as we enter the Spearmint Rhino. She loves clubs, but she loves strip clubs even more. According to her, men leave you alone in strip clubs and focus more on the already provided bare breasts instead of trying to free yours from your dress.

Inside, the club is decorated with lots of blacks and golds—everything seeming to follow that strict color code. Unlike the Polaris in Boston, the Spearmint Rhino strangely offers a homier vibe—which is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever thought in my life. In this club, I don’t feel dirty. The red-haired girl doing her thing on the narrow stage isn’t fully naked and that makes me feel better…even if I can still see her hard, fake breasts and dark erect nipples.

I feel Seth plant his hand low on my back. “One word and we’ll go, okay?” he tells me, his breath caressing my earlobe. I nod my head. One word and I can go home, that’s all it takes. Relaxing, I inhale deeply, drawing in the scent of whiskey and Coke.

We follow Jackson over to a little group of black chairs in the far corner of the room.

“Here we are, nice and secluded for Olivia’s bashful eyes, but not too far away for the rest of us to enjoy the show.”

I smile, knowing very well that Jackson is taking a shot at me and my timidness about being at a strip club. I don’t care, I’m just glad he was thoughtful enough to not get us seats right underneath the stage. Without sitting down, Darryl leaves and brings us back a round of drinks. I’m already having a hard time keeping my eyes open and preventing sharp lines from blurring into one another. And I’m trying hard to ignore the pressure I feel at the front of my forehead, behind my brow. I bring the wine glass that he sits in front of me to my nose—it’s red wine of some kind. I sip at it and it goes down smoothly, not burning like the shots I’ve been taking all night, and the feeling of having something so fruity and smooth slip down my throat is refreshing. After the drinks are received, we talk about the upcoming fight. Seth doesn’t seem so keen to add to the conversation and I know it’s because he’s nervous. I don’t know what it is with him but he’s usually so confident that it borderlines self-obsessed, but when it comes to fighting he can be so reserved—like he thinks he’s not good enough. I push myself off my chair and straight onto his lap. He hands me his drink and his lips curve into a delightful smile as he wraps his arms around me. “What do you know, a beautiful girl is sitting on my lap and I didn’t even have to pay for it.”




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