Coach Love(54)

“Oh, so the loser single ones get to take off their clothes in front of a bunch of strange women,” Kieran said, his voice dull, the reality of what he was about to agree to making him sick to his stomach.

“In exchange for money,” Jackie reminded him, reapplying her lipstick then checking her profile in the long mirror attached to the office door. “You’re gonna be late for your debut, Red. Hit the shower. Use the lotion. Clint will be here any second to give you your first and only stripper lesson. I need to go check the bar inventory.” She waggled her fingers at them and sashayed out the door.

“Clint,” he muttered, shaking his head, still not quite comprehending what she meant. “Nice.”

“Yeah.” Dom flopped on the couch next to him and propped his feet on the desk. “Go get a shower like the boss lady told ya to.”

“You cannot be serious. We can’t…do this.” He held up the scrap of fabric. Dom pulled a matching one out of his leather jacket pocket.

“I don’t know about you, Ginger, but I need the dough. My freezer fund recently got depleted.”

Kieran ran his fingers through his hair. “How much?”

“Five benjies, each. Plus half of whatever tips they stuff down our drawers.”

He got to his feet and trudged out the door through the dressing room. Under the lukewarm trickle of water, he pondered how low he had actually sunk, going from superstar basketball player with the world at his feet and his choice of women in his bed to this. A guy who for a measly five-hundred bucks would strip down to some kind of thong in front of a bunch of horny women with dollar bills, spilling their watered-down, over-priced drinks.

After toweling off, he located the lotion. It smelled like rancid flowers and gave him an odd sparkly sheen. He studied his skin, hating it, hating everything about his shitty life, but mostly hating Jackie for making him do this.

“Let’s go, bro. Clint’s here to show us how to shake our wangs and make some bank.”

By the time he’d done the rip out of the fake, Velcro-stitched jeans without pulling off the black thong a few times to loud, chest-pounding music, Kieran had consumed enough bourbon to feel, if not at ease, at least not like the largest fool in six counties. When he reached for the bottle again, Jackie snatched it out of his reach.

“You can’t drink all my profits, Red, just ‘cause you’ve found a new career shakin’ your baby maker.”

Kieran put his head down on the table, thinking that maybe right then would be an opportune time to return to a healthy prayer life. As in Dear Lord, please let me wake up and find out these last three years have been one long, shitty nightmare.

Dom sauntered down from the stage to the floor. “So the rules about touching, they’re out the window tonight, I assume?” He ran a palm down his firm, tanned, and inked chest, admiring himself a little too much for Kieran’s taste.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Jackie said, lighting a cigarette in direct opposition to the state rules about smoking indoors. Dom held out his fingers and she gave it to him, squinting through the smoke circling her face. “Private party. Touch all ya want, you perv.”

Kieran had gone a bit numb thanks to the amber liquor he’d imbibed. But he didn’t care. The only way he could go on that stage and take his clothes off in front of strangers would be stink-ass drunk. Jackie glanced at her phone. “All right, my stable of studs. The ladies are paying a pretty penny for your grand entrance, and their limo is about to arrive. Go on. Scoot.” She smacked their butts.

A white-hot bolt of terror shot through Kieran’s skull. He snagged another bottle on his way past the bar and followed Dom and Clint, drinking from the neck of it, letting the cheap rotgut burn its way down his throat and settle in his chest.

“One last bit of advice, y’all.” Clint smeared more of the sparkly lotion on his bulging chest. “Let the lights blind you to whoever is out there. It’s best to imagine that you’re puttin’ on a show for total strangers.”

“They are strangers.” Kieran pondered the remains of the booze. “That’s the whole point.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised who shows up for this kind of thing. Since it’s not done that much, you know. This way.” He made a little flourish, emphasizing his glistening naked, torso.

“Whatever.” Kieran took another slug from the bottle then gave it to Dom. “I want it over with.” He put his head down on his arms and tried to take deep, calming breaths. But his heart pounded louder, blood whooshing in his ears, and his knees shook under the table.