Free Fat by Sara Wylde Page A

suggested and Austin sat down at our table almost immediately. He was, of course, ripped like Adonis. He was wearing a pair of low-slung jeans with a giant belt buckle and nothing else.
    He was the one I’d babysat his daughter.
    “Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you guys back tonight,” he said.
    “This is as good a place to drink as any,” April replied. “Speaking of, I’m going to get some drinks. Rum for you, Claire?”
    “Yeah, thanks.”
    When she was gone, Austin leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Couldn’t get enough of Finn McCool, could she?”
    I shrugged. “You know how it is.”
    “I should probably mind my own business, but she knows girls come back here all the time with the same idea she’s got.”
    “She does. But we should both mind our own business.” I grinned.
    “I meant to ask, this photo shoot we’re doing. Can I have copies of all my pics for my portfolio?”
    “Oh, of course. And after Chubbalicious is making some money, I’ll be able to pay you.”
    “No need. Happy to help.” He winked at me. “Although, if you wanted to give me a dollar, I wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lip turned up in a smirk as he stood and angled that shiny belt buckle close to my face.
    This wasn’t usual fare for me. On the nights we came to the club, I didn’t usually get dances or put dollars in anyone’s jock. I was always Kieran’s guest and I hung out in the back sipping my drink and chatting with the girls.
    But fuck it, right? That’s what they were here for. Maybe all that time I’d spent trying to be different and set apart, I’d been an asshole? I’d been enjoying the scenery without tipping. That was kind of a douche move.
    “I guess I owe you one.” I pulled a dollar out of my purse and tucked it in the waist of those deliciously worn jeans, my fingers grazing over his oblique.
    “Best buck of the night.” He winked again.
    “Flirt.”
    “Tease,” he tossed back.
    “I can’t help myself.” My tone implied even if I could, I wouldn’t.
    “Nor should you.” He squeezed my shoulder before migrating to another table.
    April shoved two shots of rum under my nose. “Did I see what I think I saw? Did you… tip ?”
    I shrugged. “I figured it was time.” It grossed me out to realize that I hadn’t been tipping not because I thought I was different, but because I didn’t want to be that sad, fat girl who had to come to a strip club to put her hands on a man.
    Who had to pay for it.
    But it wasn’t even like that. I knew the guys didn’t think of me or any of the women who came to the club that way. The least I could do was cough up a dollar.
    Why couldn’t epiphanies ever be something that I wanted to deal with? Instead, it was always some stark light of truth on the ugliest, darkest, and saddest parts of myself that I wanted to hide from everyone—including me.
    I downed both shots.
    “So it’s going to be that kind of night?” April asked.
    “I work hard. I deserve to have a good time.”
    “We both do.” She waved her arm and one the servers came over. “I don’t want to run back to the bar all night. Start me a tab? Bring us six more rum shots and a Manhattan.”
    She took the Manhattan and gave me the shots.
    Another hash mark on the douche scorecard. I’d been so shitty to her and now she was buying my drinks.
    “Thanks,” I said, sincere.
    “Tonight’s about having fun, right?”
    Except she didn’t look like she was having fun. She looked miserable and Kieran wasn’t even on the floor yet.
    I downed my shots—one right after another.
    Sometimes, I was glad for my alcohol tolerance and then other times, I wished I was a lightweight so five dollars would put me in that warm, fuzzy place where everything seemed like a good idea.
    The lights went down and a bachelorette party started shrieking when the routines started. Yeah, I definitely needed those shots.
    I was surprised to see Gavin on stage again as the opening act.
    April choked on her