Harper's Rules 1 & 2

Chapter 29: Jake

"Right, so..." Hightower cleared his throat, shifted his eyes to me, and flicked his fingers at the topless bartender. "Thanks for coming, Jake."

A chuckle escaped me when the woman with brown hair piled up in a messy bun behind the bar came closer and his eyes studied the ceiling. From the moment we'd stepped inside his friend's gentleman's club, Hightower was the most uncomfortable guy here. I hadn't seen him sit still for more than ten seconds at a time.

Guess I should appreciate that from my future brother-in-law.

Fuck, that's weird to think about.

Nearly nine months after he'd asked my permission, Hightower finally proposed to Ellie. She'd nearly broken my right ear drum with how loudly she'd squealed the news into my ear but I was happy for her. Just like the one condition I'd given Hightower for my permission, not that he'd asked for it when we were in Canada, I promised Ellie that I walked her down the aisle.

Didn't realize that meant I also promised I attended his awkward-as-fuck bachelor's party though.

"Another club soda?" The bartender purred out and plopped her bare, unnaturally large and symmetrical breasts onto the counter near his elbows. She glanced at me and chuckled at Logan as he shook his skyward directed head. "You know the whole point here is looking, right?"

"I'm getting married," he blurted up to the ceiling. "I don't need to look at anyone else."

Fuck, again I should appreciate this but... Why did I come here? This is so awkward.

I could've gone to spring break in Cabo with... All the house couples. That's why I'm here.

"So? Loosen up! Have some fun before then." She winked, slid herself in front of me, and similarly presented herself. "Another beer for you, handsome?"

"Whatever you want to get rid of," I spat out flatly, then roamed my eyes over her like she wanted.

With brown hair and eyes, she was pretty enough. A black pair of tiny leather shorts molded to her ass and her pink nipples, like the rest of her breasts, were unusually large. While I might've been tempted in the past, I just roamed my eyes over each cataloged imperfection, like the way her skin stretched unnaturally tight over her implants. The longer I stared, the more her cheeks flushed pink and her nipples looked like they wanted to pop off her breasts.

My lips curled up when she shoved a beer at me and squeezed her thighs together.

Still got it.

I shot her a wink, slapped some money on the bar and turned away with a cold Heineken in my hand. Never in my life had I been surrounded by beautiful, nearly naked women and been so absolutely bored. Our small assembled group of us also dodged particular topics tonight, as Hightower briefed me on beforehand.

Between my complete disinterest, Hightower's neck strain from how he refused to look at any dancer below her face level, his younger brother's beet-red face buried into something on his phone's screen since I'd greeted him in Hightower's truck, another pussy-whipped fiancé, and whatever the fuck bullshit justification Hightower's best man repeatedly gave over the phone to his girlfriend... One fact was painfully obvious.

We were the worst patrons in the whole damn club.

"So!" A tall, meaty, thick-neck guy with dirty blonde curls and a crooked nose slapped his arms around us. "Having a good time, bro?"

Hightower's high school friend and former teammate Bryce worked as a security manager here at Night Shift, a gentleman's club outside of San Jose. From the clean areas, to c-shaped black leather benches, ambient purple lighting, and oval-shaped stage with two dancers at a time, the club vibe was high end.