Second Chance Boyfriend (Drew + Fable 2)

I scowl. Hearing Ty’s name irritates me. We’ve sat on opposite ends of the group the entire time, no interaction between us whatsoever. Probably best, considering if he comes near me again, I might hit him.

And keep on hitting him until he’s bloody and broken. Only then would I feel an ounce of satisfaction. Though why I keep wanting to defend her when she’s out f**king around with another guy while I mourn the loss of her, I don’t know.

Fuck.

“I’m sure he could arrange a lap dance for you too,” Logan continues.

“Hell, no. I don’t want one.” I shake my head and down the rest of my beer in one swallow. I feel hot. My head is spinning. I’m definitely losing control and for once, I don’t really care.

“That you say you don’t want one only makes me want to get you one even more.”

I turn to see Ty standing there, beer in hand, smirk in place. I want to slap that shitty look off his face but I remain calm. Nonchalant. “Why would you want to waste your money on a lap dance for me? Get one for yourself.”

Ty laughs. “I want to see you squirm, Callahan. I know this isn’t your scene. Hell, I’m surprised you’re here with us. I’m even more surprised at how you tried to kick my ass over a stupid girl.”

I say nothing. I’m surprised too but I’m not going to let on that I am.

“You know Fable? Been with her or something?” Ty shakes his head. “I took her out once, a long time ago. It was mostly forgettable.”

If he so much as goes into detail about their supposedly forgettable date, I’ll bash his face in.

“I don’t know her that well,” I bite out, every word sharp because I’m a complete liar. “But you don’t disrespect women, Ty. It’s an ass**le thing to do.”

“I’ve never said I was anything but an ass**le.” The smirk on Ty’s face disappears. “That’s why I already got you that lap dance, buddy. With a pretty little blonde who reminded me of our mutual friend.” He flicks his head and I turn around.

“Hi.” She smiles at me, all bright and fake, and I’m momentarily taken aback. She does eerily resemble Fable at first glance, much like my fake classmate Fable, but then I realize she’s nothing like the girl I’m in love with.

This fake Fable is taller, skinnier, with shorter hair and bad skin. Her nails are long and painted neon pink. She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and thrusts her chest out, her hard ni**les poking against the thin fabric of her neon pink bikini top.

Ty plants his hand in the middle of my back and shoves me toward her. “Aren’t you going to greet your present? You need to respect women and all that other shit you talk about, right?”

Asshole. “You don’t have to do this,” I tell her, ignoring Ty’s snicker. I glance around, looking for Logan, but he’s long gone. Probably off getting his own dance.

The girl frowns. “He paid me to do it. It’s my job.”

“Just keep the money,” I tell her, reaching out to grab her arm so I can take her somewhere else. Somewhere we can pretend this is happening instead of putting on a show for everyone.

She shakes her head, touches my chest with her free hand. “Don’t you like me?”

I study her, my vision blurry. If I squint, she could almost pass for Fable. She strokes my forearm, her light touch sending a shiver through me. “Come on,” she murmurs, her voice low.

Seductive.

No way should I do this, but I let her lead me over to a chair and she pushes my chest so I have no choice but to sit. I fall into the chair heavily, my head spinning, and the music starts, the woman on the stage begins to move.

Just like the woman in front of me.

For a moment, I let my imagination run away from me. Instead of a stranger, it’s Fable in front of me. Dancing for me, so beautiful as she moves, her lips curved in a seductive smile, her eyes glowing as she watches me. I stare back, my mouth going dry, my skin tight and hot…

I hear Ty’s unmistakable laugh, snapping me back to reality.

The girl smiles at me, her hands on my shoulders, her barely covered br**sts in my face as she twists and turns to the beat of the music. Her hips roll and thrust toward me as she reaches behind her back, deftly undoing both straps on her bikini top so it falls from her chest and lands on the floor.

She has small br**sts and big ni**les, nothing like Fable. Of course she’s nothing like her. I need to stop comparing all women to her. It’s a mistake. Hell, it’s a sickness. One I need to cure myself of and quickly, since she already has someone else.

The realization makes me almost sick to my stomach.

“Put your tits in his face!” Ty yells and she tosses her hair and laughs, thrusting her chest directly in my face as Ty commanded, her skin brushing against mine. I smell sweat, cheap perfume and alcohol emanating from her pores and I wrinkle my nose.

This girl is nothing like mine. She’s nothing like any sort of girl I’d ever be interested in.

“You’re hot,” the dancer whispers and I tilt my head back, our gazes locking. “Want to hook up after I get off work? My shift ends in an hour.”

I slowly shake my head. “I don’t think so.” That she solicits me so easily makes me think this isn’t her first time doing this sort of thing.

She pouts. “I bet you have a girlfriend, right? All the quiet, good-looking ones do.”

“Yeah, I have a girlfriend.” A fake one, one I lost claim to months ago. But it’s easier to agree than to explain myself.