Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
CARTER
My eyes stay on Ashley out on the dance floor, dancing and jumping around, looking as though she’s having the time of her life to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”
If I didn’t know better, I might think she’s drunk, or tipsy at the least. To be honest, I feel the same, which makes no sense since we’re drinking non-alcoholic eggnog.
I guess we’re drunk on Christmas cheer. It’s probably the only thing that’s kept me at this table for so long with Mrs. Mitrovski—the fact that I’ve been able to zone out so much.
Ashley was brilliant to leave with the excuse of dancing—to escape the prison that is a conversation with this woman.
I wish I’d jumped out of my seat when Ashley tried to warn me.
Not only does Mrs. Mitrovski keep the conversation going for far too long, but she barely lets me get a word in edgewise.
I think she might be more interested in a captive audience than she is in scintillating conversation.
“And that’s when I told him, I said, ‘Alexi, if you insist on cutting down that tree in the front lawn, don’t be surprised if your clothes are waiting for you on the front porch when you get home.
’ I mean, can you imagine? Cutting down a fifty-year-old tree because it’s blocking your view of the neighbor you want to spy on?
It’s ridiculous. You’d think that after thirty years of marriage, he’d know that—”
Thankfully, she’s cut off by the earsplitting sound of feedback from a microphone. It’s worth the hearing damage to put an end to this conversation.
Everyone turns their attention to the stage, where a woman in her fifties with graying hair cringes. “Sorry, everyone. I wanted to let you know that we’re going to start the Santa Strip Tease in about five minutes. Anyone who’s planning to take part, please meet me beside the stage now.”
She sets the mic back in its holder, and the music comes back on.
Before Mrs. Mitrovski can say anything, I push my chair back. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”
She looks me up and down. “You’re doing the Santa Strip Tease?”
Fuck, am I? I just wanted to get out of this conversation.
“I mean, thirty years, but we planned this cruise for next year—” she starts in again, and I see another half hour at this table.
“Yeah, I am. Sorry, you can tell me all about the cruise later.” I hope my smile masks the fact that I will never corner myself into a conversation with her again.
“Well then, I’m going to get my pocketbook out. Go now.” She shoos me away with her hand.
I didn’t really plan on participating, but it’s given me the perfect excuse to get out of this conversation. Plus, it’s for a good cause, right?
At the side of the stage, all the men are standing around. I introduce myself, and the woman from the stage, Monica, explains how it will work, echoing Ester’s explanation from earlier.
“If there’s a specific song you want to dance to, I can see if we have it.” She eyes me up and down.
I’m a little embarrassed to admit one of my favorite holiday songs, but what the hell. “If you have Justin Bieber’s ‘Mistletoe,’ that’d be great.”
She chuckles quietly. “All right, I’ll see if we can get that for you. There’s a bin full of Santa suits over there. Find one that fits well enough and put it on. You can use the restroom to remove your other clothes. We’re going to start in a few minutes.”
I nod and go over to the bin. It doesn’t take long to find one that will fit, and I rush off to the bathroom to change.
When I return, I chat at the side of the stage with the other three guys who are participating.
One man looks as though he’s probably in his seventies, the other might pass for twenty-one, and the third guy appears to be in his late thirties or early forties and has a beer belly on him that would rival the actual Santa Claus’s.
I’m pretty sure he’s not using a fake belly like the rest of us.
I thought for sure I’d be nervous, but for whatever reason, I’m not at all. I can be extroverted when I want to be, but I would have thought I’d have some nerves about stripping in front of strangers. More importantly, Ashley.
Monica returns to the stage, and she looks nervous for some reason.
She taps on the microphone and clears her throat.
“Hi, everyone. Before we get started with the Santa Strip Tease, I have an announcement to make. It’s come to my attention that someone mislabeled the eggnog.
The punch bowl labeled non-alcoholic is actually the eggnog with alcohol, and vice versa.
” She bites her lower lip. “Apologies to everyone. If anyone needs a ride home, both Rick Springer and Ester Layton have volunteered to drive you home safely.”
I laugh. Well, that explains the buzzed feeling I have. I search out Ashley, and her eyes go wide in horror, but then she shrugs it off, making me laugh even harder.
“Now, to get on with the fun stuff. Let the Santa Strip Tease begin! First up, we have Nathan.” She gestures to the side of the stage, and the guy in his early twenties steps up, chest puffing, full of bravado.
If I had to guess, he’s probably been dipping into the alcohol-laden eggnog too. His cheeks are flushed, and his smile wide and proud.
“This one is for all you MILFs out there!” he shouts before the music starts.
“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” plays, and the echo of laughter rings throughout the room.
He first removes his Santa hat, then slowly unbuttons his belt.
Monica calls for a donation as the song approaches the twenty-second mark, and a woman in her fifties steps up and passes her some cash.
It goes on like this until the song ends and Nathan wears only his Santa pants.
He didn’t work fast enough to get the entire costume off.
Monica thanks him for his participation, then calls Bob with the big beer belly up onto the stage. Bob doesn’t seem to have any qualms about stripping.
“Santa Baby” plays. He pivots his hips around in a circle, and a very enthusiastic woman steps up in front of the stage, hooting and hollering. I have no idea whether it’s his wife or girlfriend, but she’s clearly going to be the one who donates the most for him.
Bob grins at her and unbuttons his Santa coat. The woman hands Monica money every time the song reaches the twenty-second mark, and the performance threatens to end if there isn’t a donation.
When the song is over, Bob hops off the stage with an agility and grace I didn’t see him having and kisses his biggest fan. The people in the room cheer, but Bob and his woman walk out the doors, the rest of the Santa suit and his clothes forgotten.
Monica turns her attention to me and the old man beside the stage and calls Arthur up. I have to help him up the stairs, but once he’s on the stage, his entire countenance changes as if the crowd’s cheers buoy him.
I’m not familiar with the song, but I think it might be called “Backdoor Santa” based on the lyrics alone, which makes it even funnier watching Arthur slowly remove his clothes to the jazzy tune.
The crowd is more into it than any of the other participants thus far.
My competitive juices flow, but then I glance into the crowd and see Ashley with her hands over her mouth, laughing hysterically, and I realize that the only person I want to impress is her.
In fact, the more I look at her, the more the realization dawns. I want… her. Ashley. I was an idiot six months ago. She’s nothing like her sister. Now, if they were standing side by side, I wouldn’t look at either of them as being an extension of the other.
The audience’s cheers crescendo, and I blink a few times, dragging my gaze from Ashley to the stage. Arthur has finished his dance and managed to take his entire costume off in the time he had. I never realized how short most Christmas carols are until now.
I help him back down the stairs, my heart thumping since I’m next.
Monica calls me up on stage, introducing me. Finally, the nerves hit me through my boozy brain, and I swallow hard. But when the music starts, I keep my gaze locked on Ashley’s broad smile, and somehow the nerves drift away.
I gyrate my hips as I unbutton the red jacket lined with white fur.
Hoots and hollers ring out from the crowd, and I grin.
Still, I don’t look around, holding Ashley’s gaze the entire time I undo each button.
When my fake belly slips, I pull it out entirely, twirling it over my head and tossing it in her direction.
She catches it and laughs. Her smile and happiness make me feel like a superhero.
Twenty seconds is way too fast. Monica calls for a donation to be made to continue, and to my surprise, it’s Ester handing Monica some cash to keep me going.
I wiggle the jacket off my shoulders, revealing my bare chest and abs, loving the way Ashley’s gaze zeros in on my six-pack.
The night of our date, we didn’t get far enough for her to see me fully.
I was still working on undressing her when I acted like an asshole and called it off.
Right now, I’ve never despised myself quite so much because if I hadn’t been an idiot and been able to see Ashley for who she was that night, we’d both know what the other looks like naked.
The jacket freefalls to the floor, and the audience roars. My fingers go to my belt, and I work my pants as donations come in every time Monica requests. My pants pool on the floor, and I step out of them, leaving me in my tight, black boxer briefs and a Santa hat.
I motion with my finger for Ashley to step toward the stage, and surprisingly, she comes, never removing her gaze from mine. When she’s close enough, I take the hat off my head and place it on hers.