Hmm.

I had a feeling the guys weren’t much happier than Mag would be, watching me strip.

Then again, whenever I caught them out in the crowd, they weren’t looking at me but scanning the area.

And I was learning, such was the brotherhood, they’d do anything for Mag.

And possibly, for me.

“But like I said, I’m happy to listen if you want to talk,” I told him.

“It’s not that I wanna, it’s that I gotta. Shit festers. I learned, you get it out.”

“Well, I’m here to lay it on, Boone.”

Another grunt, this time forming the word “Thanks.”

Light dawned and I said, “The lap dance.”

He gave a jerky nod. “I’m into her. Made that clear. She’s putting me off. And that’s okay. Her prerogative. Not how my mind works, though.”

Oh boy.

“So you kinda already in your head think Ryn’s yours, and she’s giving lap dances.”

Another grunt with his “Yeah.”

This was a problem because, like all of us, Ryn worked at Smithie’s because she had to.

“It’s not the stripping,” Boone declared, like he could read my thoughts. “I’m down with look, don’t touch. And she’s gotta make a living. I’m not that kind of Dom where I inject myself into shit like that. It’s the lap dances. That’s not in her control, or mine. And that’s not good. It fucks with me.”

“Well, Boone—”

“You don’t give lap dances,” he noted.

“Only the girls who are okay to do that, do that,” I shared.

“Yeah, so she could not do that.”

I couldn’t argue that, though I had to admit, even if I sucked at it and it was major euw, in times when I was hurting financially, I’d considered it. It mega upped your tips.

Which was why Ryn did it.

She needed the money.

“I hate to remind you of this, honey, but you two haven’t even been on a date,” I said.

“I know that logically, Evie. But my mind sometimes doesn’t work logically. The shit happening with you, I know Lottie wants her for me, and she wanted you for Mag and you two are workin’ out great. But more, I’m into her and I know Ryn is attracted to me. And her not wearin’ barely anything, straddling some stranger’s lap, it’s messing with my head.”

Another glance my way while I processed a happy quiver at his saying “you two are workin’ out great,” before he turned back to the road and kept speaking.

“The thing is, I’m not that kind of Dom where play gets into life. But I’m that kinda guy.”

“Protective,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” I offered.

“I’m not sure that would help.” I watched him smile a smile that I wished Ryn could see because I was going home to all that was Mag, and still, it made me shiver. “She’s definitely a brat.”

“A brat?”

He glanced at me again before he said to the windshield, “You don’t know the life, do you?”

“No.”

“Then, if you’re interested, I’ll let Ryn tell you.”

“Okeydoke,” I mumbled.

“I’m gonna let other guys take your duty at Smithie’s, babe,” he shared. “Unless Ryn’s not on. Better for her and for me.”

“Okay, Boone.”

We fell into silence and I didn’t know what Boone was thinking, but what I was thinking was that I’d never really had good girlfriends.

I still knew the drill.

If it wasn’t yours to share, you didn’t share it.

Especially with a guy.

Most especially with a guy your girlfriend was attracted to.

But arguably, Boone was more my friend than Ryn was. It was true; I hadn’t known him longer.

That said, he’d tackled a guy through a billowing smoke bomb for me.

Quandary.

Boone seemed to know I was turning this over in my head because he said, “I don’t really find it hard to find a partner, Evie. Do I want more? Yeah. But by process of elimination, that’s bound to happen. If Ryn doesn’t want to go there, I need to get into that headspace and find someone who does. And I will.”

Oh no.

He was going to give up on Ryn.

“She needs the money,” I blurted.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“The lap dances. None of the girls really want to do them. But Smithie makes his money on the door and at the bar. He doesn’t take a cut of tips. A lap dance lasts maybe ten, fifteen minutes and it’s fifty bucks, plus a lot of guys tip on top of that. So, she does it for the money.”

The vibe in the car was no longer heavy with his mood.

It was stifling with his mood.

“Is she in trouble?”

Sadly, I had to say, “I don’t really know. I could find out, but I don’t think it’s girlfriend code for me to pump her for information to give to you.”

“You don’t have to pump her for information. I’ll find out.”

Hmm!

We drove the rest of the way home, the silence broken occasionally with idle chitchat.

Boone escorted me up to Mag’s place and let me in.

Mag was on the couch, watching TV, waiting up for me, even though it was after three in the morning. This, what he’d been doing the first time I came home from Smithie’s, as well as Friday, the first night I was back to dancing.

I so totally was falling for this guy.

After cursory greetings, Boone gave me a hug and said to Mag, “I’m out.”

“Thanks, brother,” he called.

I heard Boone lock the door behind him as I dropped my bag on the island and wandered to Mag.

He didn’t have his sling on, and I made it clear with my eyes how I felt about that.

Mag just grinned at me and reached when I got close enough for him to do it.

I was on my back on the couch, with him on top of me, his bad arm resting with his hand flat against my chest, and I noted from close up his lashes were just as amazing lit only by a television set.

“Why aren’t you wearing your sling?” I asked.

“It’s annoying,” he answered.

“It’s my understanding you have another week with it on.”

“Yeah, but for now it’s off.”

All right.

I’d said my piece.

So I let that go.

“Good night?” Mag asked.

“It’s over and I have a wad of cash in my bag, so it is now.”

He smiled down at me.

“Ryn and Boone had a thing tonight,” I shared.

“A thing?”

“A thing after she gave a lap dance.”

His chin lifted slightly with understanding, and his expression turned thoughtful before he muttered, “Yeah. Not surprised. He’s into her and he’s a certain kind of guy. One who wouldn’t be down with some of that even if she’s not yet his. I don’t think he should be on you at Smithie’s anymore. I should have known it was bound to fuck with his head.”

I wondered what he meant by “a certain kind of guy.”

Did he know Boone was a Dom?