51. tallulah
TALLULAH
STRIPTEASE LAP DANCE
Going back to Niagara Falls was a complete mood shift. My parents were making an effort, we were actually having a good time together. I didn’t hold any ill-will towards them. They loved me and wanted the best for me. I just wanted them to trust me to make my own decisions too.
“Do you want me to take a picture of you two?” my mom asked at the railing. Even with the ponchos, Nick and I were soaked from our ‘behind the falls’ tour. We smiled for the cameras, dripping wet, and I wrapped my arms around him, thinking how perfect this was.
Except for the little edge in Nick’s smile.
There was something he couldn’t shake from his phone call earlier. Something lingering behind his eyes.
“Hey?” I tugged on his poncho, nodding to one of the snack stands. “Do you want to get a pretzel?”
He nodded quickly, pulling out his wallet. We took our places in line, out of earshot from my parents.
Nick craned his neck, reading the menu. “What kind of pretzel do you want?”
“Are you okay?”
He almost asked what I meant when his eyes slid to my parents, mid-conversation. The clear space I’d put between us. “Ahhh.”
“Who called you?” I touched his arm. “Is this something I need to worry about?”
“Tallulah…” Nick hesitated. “I want to talk to you, and, you know, be open about stuff. I promise. I’m not trying to hide anything. It’s just…I don’t want to ruin your day.”
Anxiety fluttered inside. “Please tell me.”
“Okay, okay.” He took a moment, seeming to consider his words, face downcast. “Uh…so, Fridge…accepted the Cali Firebirds offer. He—he’s leaving Marrs.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
Nick averted his eyes. “Denali called me. Coach Sémajuste, him, and Fridge had a meeting, they’ll announce it tomorrow. Sémajuste wanted to keep it quiet, but Denali didn’t…he—uh—wanted to make sure I was okay.”
We shuffled forward in line, and I folded my arms over my chest, watching Nick. He was upset. It was obvious. I could read it on his face, how disappointed he was that Fridge decided to leave.
While I…well…it was the oddest thing. Nick was having a difficult time talking about it, hurt laced through in his words, his spirit was crumpled, and I didn’t feel those things.
Or, at least, they didn’t last. My hurt was like trying to use a lighter that’d run out of juice, just the flicker of sparks before it vanished. There one second, gone the next.
I’d loved Fridge. It’d been a slow burn where I realized he didn’t feel the same.
Now that I knew Fridge was leaving, it was more like I was sad for him.
Fridge loved playing on the Gladiators, he was close to his teammates.
It must’ve been a hard decision for him to make.
And while I was sad for him, I was also weirdly proud.
I knew how big of a step California was.
Maybe I would’ve been more upset, but didn’t Fridge want to sign on with the Firebirds anyway?
His departure was surprising, sure, but not inevitable.
I wasn’t sad, I was contemplative. And Nick was devastated.
My boyfriend’s disappointment pushed me into action. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my voice soft. “Come here, baby.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to ruin your day…”
I shook my head. “I’m glad you told me.”
“I—I thought I’d have more time with him,” he admitted. “To say I’m sorry, to show I mean it. He blocked me on everything, and—and I get it, I understand, I just…I didn’t mean to hurt him. I didn’t mean to.”
Nick hugged me back, squeezing me tight.
We came up to the cash register, and I ordered a cinnamon sugar pretzel and a classic pretzel, tugging him back to the railing with me. We ate in silence.
I watched him, thinking. Did Nick regret our summer? Did he regret losing his friend?
I winced at my own questions, trying to figure out what to say.
“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if you talked to me first?” I whispered.
Nick chewed his piece of the pretzel, thinking. After a moment, he shook his head. “No. I don’t.”
“Sometimes I do,” I admitted. “It would’ve been…easier.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tallulah, I slept with a teammate’s mom right before I met you.
If I actually talked to you for real last summer, brought you around the team, that would’ve been the first thing everybody told you.
” He lifted a shoulder, taking another bite of the pretzel.
“You would’ve heard about that and that would’ve been the last time you talked to me. ”
I lapsed into silence. Was he right? Part of me wanted to argue, to say I wouldn’t have judged him so quickly. Was that the truth or just what I wanted to believe? I wasn’t sure.
“Tallulah?” he said, catching my attention.
“Yes?”
“Don’t let your anxiety read too much into this, okay?” he said softly. “I don’t regret any part of this summer with you. I can’t. If I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t. Because if I did, maybe we wouldn’t have gotten together. I would never risk that.”
My cheeks warmed. “Oh.”
“I love you,” he promised. “That outweighs everything.”
Even shivering in my wet poncho, I melted. Our love story was very messy and I wouldn’t have changed anything either. I pulled him to me for another hug and he dipped down to kiss me, the taste of cinnamon sugar on his lips.
“I love you too,” I whispered.
“There’s a million possibilities,” he told me. “I wouldn’t trade any of them for this one.”
I went from trying to make my parents happy to doing everything I could to make Nick happy.
He deserved it, he was a superstar. He pushed the pain from Fridge’s departure away and threw himself into connecting with my parents.
We had dinner at another beautiful restaurant and played card games in the hotel lobby until the last of the stragglers were gone.
His effort shined. I loved him so much for it.
When we finally called it a night, I was abuzz with love for this man who did so much for me again and again.
He closed our hotel room’s door behind us, tugging me to the bed where we sprawled out on the blankets. “Thanks for bringing me, sweetheart.”
“Thank you for being so perfect,” I murmured.
“What time do you want to wake up tomorrow?” He yawned, pulling out his phone. “I’ll set the alarm—”
I touched his face. “You had a long day today.”
“We both had a long day today,” he chuckled. “Lot of walking.”
That wasn’t what I meant. Nick went above and beyond, even after he learned his best friend was moving across the country from him. I wanted to show him how much I appreciated him, how much I loved him. “I have a gift for you.”
He gave me a sleepy grin. “Gift?”
“You can have anything you want with sex tonight. Any request. Any way you want it.”
He snapped to attention. “Huh?”
“Anything you want, baby,” I whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
Nick’s eyes followed me. He was slow with his movements, reaching over to graze my hip, his hand settling at my waist, like he was waiting for amendment or rules.
“Anything,” I promised.
“Anything?”
I shifted closer. “I know this is a big offer. We can watch a movie, give you some time to think, so you can weigh your options—”
“I want a lap dance,” he said immediately.
I stilled, eyes wide. “Um…what?”
“Striptease lap dance. Lap dance with a striptease.”
A lap dance? From me? Did he know who he was requesting this from? I gaped like a fish. “I—I can’t even dance by myself—you don’t want that—”
“I absolutely want that.”
“No? No.” A nervous laugh bubbled up, waiting for the joke to end, but Nick wasn’t kidding. “You don’t understand, you can ask for anything. Sex on a rooftop, or if you have handcuffs, I’ll cuff you, or we could do crazy roleplay! Whatever you want, nothing’s off-limits—”
“I know.” He nodded. “I want a lap dance.”
“From me?”
“Yeah.” He nodded faster. “I want you in the dark blue bra, and your pink skirt—and your tights—the sheer ones. And your hair up in a clip, the dark brown clip—”
I blinked at him, stunned. “I—I—”
“And I want you to let your hair down when you’re doing the lap dance—”
“Have you…thought about this before?”
“Yeah. A couple—” He considered the question. “A number of times.”
Flustered, I glanced at my suitcase. “I don’t know if I brought the skirt—”
“You did,” he said, with zero doubt in his voice.
I flushed darker. “Oh.”
“That’s what I want.”
Nick was so serious and detailed about this, like we were discussing his life’s ambitions. How was I supposed to give a lap dance? I didn’t know how to make my body move like that. But I did promise him anything, and it was clear, Nick wanted this.
Or wanted it now. He’d definitely change his mind later.
Blushing, I collected my suitcase, wheeling it into the bathroom. Anxiety flared in my chest, telling me I couldn’t do this. And the anxiety was right!
I searched up lap dance videos. My hips definitely didn’t do that, probably never would. Was this what Nick wanted? The creaking of my joints, trying to be bent into submission?
I put down my phone, staring at the mirror.
“You’re a bad bitch,” I muttered to myself, jabbing a finger at the mirror. Zariah was right, I had to repeat it to myself to gather courage. “You’re the baddest bitch. You’re going to give a hundred percent out there. Two hundred percent!”
It didn’t matter if those were lies. I held on to them, pulling the tights over my legs.
When I was finished, with a white shirt over my bra for him to take off, I applied the blood red lipstick from Tomasini’s charity gala. I took deep breaths, both to calm my anxiety and to steady my hand while I used my new eyeliner.
The thought of Nick conjuring this dirty fantasy about me sent my heart hammering in my chest. I found a sexy RnB playlist and turned up the volume, mostly to hide my labored breathing.
I’d flown to Canada for an internship away from home, stood up to my parents, and confronted a Canadian hockey icon.
I could fucking do a lap dance.