It's the alcohol talking

Clad.

Harley couldn't tear her gaze away. She looked so pitiful I almost felt sorry for her—those were not the eyes of a woman who had moved on.

I smirked. I guess Tracy had her use this once in her lifetime. Maybe I'd reward her later. But for now, I couldn't miss this moment—not with Harley looking like someone had ripped her heart out and left the wound gaping.

"I'm sorry, ladies, but it seems my partner for the evening has been a little... overexcited," I said, my gaze sweeping across the three girls at the bar, with Harley in the middle. The other two seemed unbothered, one even chuckling as she said, "Nothing new. Weirder things have happened in this club."

I smiled. "Thanks for understanding." My gaze locked onto Harley's, and though she held it for a second, she quickly averted her eyes. My smirk widened. "But it seems Harley over there needs a lesson in strange things happening in a club. Or what? Haven't you ever kissed your boyfriend before?" I deliberately emphasized "boyfriend" even though the word sliced through me sharper than I'd expected.

Harley froze, her fingers trembling slightly before she quickly steadied them, accepting the drink from the bartender. "Thank you," she murmured, flashing him a small smile.

The bartender blushed.

I narrowed my eyes. Was he serious? Taking Harley's attention away from me? The nerve. When he met my gaze, he hurried off like his life depended on it. Good.

Tracy, who had been circling me like a stripper scenting a payday, tensed at my sudden shift in mood but forced herself to continue her sultry display.

Harley took a slow sip of her drink, her face scrunching slightly before smoothing out. "It's strong," she mumbled, her cheeks darkening. She looked up, tilting her head. "I'm sorry, where were we?"

I chuckled. Cute. If she thought playing coy would work, she had another thing coming.

"We were at the part where you've never kissed a man, including your so-called boyfriend." This time, I rephrased it just right. Instead of Harley choking, her friends nearly spit out their drinks, poorly masked laughter bubbling behind their glasses.

Harley shot them a glare. "Really?" she hissed.

One of them cleared her throat. "Sorry."

"Please, continue," the other added, thoroughly entertained.

I turned my expectant gaze back to Harley.

She cleared her throat, lifting her chin. "Oh, please, Clad, I'm not about to discuss my love life with my ex. Wouldn't that just make you the petty type?"

I stiffened, the word "ex" digging into me like claws. My nails pressed into my palms, but I kept my expression schooled, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Ex?" I echoed, voice laced with bitterness. "Did I even qualify to be that?"

Harley stiffened in turn, her eyes widening slightly as if realizing the landmine she'd stepped on. Her lips parted as if she might apologize, but I wasn't interested in that.

"Or," I drawled, leaning in just enough to make her squirm, "you could just admit you've had zero luck since me. Though, I won't blame the guys who looked the other way."

Her face turned scarlet, but not from embarrassment—anger flared in her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. That adorable puff of her cheeks, once round with baby fat in high school, had long disappeared, leaving only a fierce, fiery woman.

"What do you mean by that? Of course, I've had better luck!" she snapped, pushing to her feet. She took a step closer but still maintained some distance—probably because Tracy was still draped over me like a second skin.

I smirked. "Then prove it. Show us what you've learned."

She froze, her lips parting slightly, eyes darting between mine and my mouth. She had no clue what to do. It was all over her face, in the way her gaze involuntarily dropped to my lips, in the way her breath hitched.

She was still the same little kitten—caged in by rules, by expectations from her parents. By fear. And mostly, utterly naive.

I leaned in just enough to unsettle her. "Or would you like me to teach you? I don't mind."

Tracy stiffened, but I wasn't thinking about her anymore. My focus was solely on Harley.

Harley blinked, her throat bobbing. "T-teach me?" she stammered, her voice small, uncertain. She muttered something under her breath, eyes darting around like a trapped animal.

I chuckled darkly. "What? Just the idea of my lips gets you all heated up?" My tongue flicked out, slowly running over my lower lip.

Her eyes followed the motion.

Before I could fully enjoy the sight of Harley practically thirsting over me, her friends abruptly stood up.

One hooked her arm around Harley. "Alright, Clad, Rebecca, Rebecca, Clad, and I'm Mandy. We went to school together." Mandy tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Now that she mentioned it, I did recognize her. I smirked. "Nice to finally catch up."

Mandy smiled back before turning her attention to Harley. "She's had enough for tonight. It's the alcohol talking, and she'll hate herself tomorrow. So, we're calling it a night."

Harley whined. "No, the party just started! I don't wanna go."

Rebecca, the other girl, moved in, blocking my view. "You are going with us, and you are taking the single strand of dignity you have left with you." She hissed it in a low tone, but I still heard it.

I almost laughed. Almost.

Rebecca turned to me. "It was nice seeing you again, but we're leaving with our friend."

She hooked Harley's other arm, practically dragging her away. Harley pouted, looking like a kid caught sneaking sweets before dinner.

I caught myself smiling at the comical sight, even raising a hand to wave. Strangely, she waved back—her lips pursed in an adorable pout.

And just like that, she disappeared from view.

Only then did I remember the nuisance still attached to me. My expression darkened. "Get off me. If you want a stripper pole, go find one. Otherwise, don't touch me again, or you'll lose your fingers."

Tracy stiffened. 

I smirked. Much better.