Free Wound Up by Kelli Ireland

shrugged out of her jacket and draped it around Grace’s shoulders, ever the maternal figure of the four of them.
    Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath before lifting her face and offering her friend a small smile. “A little, thanks.” She wrapped the jacket tight, closing her eyes for a second.
    What hurt the most was the fact she’d believed, even momentarily, that she’d meant something to Justin, been someone more than a passing fascination. He’d disabused her of
that
notion, that was for sure.
    Lynn leaned close and rubbed one hand up and down Grace’s arm. “You have to share details so we know whether to exalt him or duct tape him to a tree and deface any bare skin with permanent marker.”
    Grace tried not to smile and lost the battle. “You scare me a little.”
    “He’s a stripper. Going up on stage with ‘I suck in bed’ and ‘I smell like ass’ written all over him in broad, black pen strokes won’t make him any money.” She sniffed. “And if that’s not enough, just give me a few minutes. I’ll come up with worse.”
    This time Grace did laugh. “No. Nothing worse.” Winding her hands together, she fought the urge to blurt everything out, to tell them how much she’d felt cherished when she was with him, that he’d made her feel sexy, powerful and desirable in a way she never had before, and how much that mean to her. Yet when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
    “Grace?”
    She looked up to find Gretchen’s brows drawn. “Yeah?”
    “I’m sure you don’t need me to say this, but humor me, anyway. You shouldn’t get involved with someone right now. Not seriously, anyway. You’ve got plans, sweetie. Dreams.
Big
dreams that don’t involve Seattle or your childhood house or your mother’s influence. You’ve fought so hard to be able to tell her to go to hell as you ride off into the sunset. Getting tied up with a stripper is going to mess that up”
    “I know.” Two words, so raw they scraped at her throat. She reached over and took Gretchen’s hand. “You’re right. Thank you for caring enough to say it out loud.”
    Lynn leaned her forearms on the table. “Okay, but he
is
a stripper. Surely you had some fun?”
    Glancing at Lynn, she managed to smile. “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you one detail and then you let me sort out the rest before you grill me. Agreed?” She glanced from face to face.
    “Agreed,” Meg answered for the group.
    Grace found it easier to smile than she would have thought. “He kisses like a mad god. Better than anything even you can imagine, Lynn.”
    “What do you—”
    “Nope.” Grace held up a hand, cutting the woman off. “Meg agreed on your behalf. No questions.”
    “Oh, damn. She did, didn’t she?” Lynn leaned over and jokingly tagged Meg. “You’re demoted from group spokesperson.”
    Meg rubbed her shoulder. “I resign, you brute.”
    Gretchen stood. “Let’s get out of here. We can talk on the way to Grace’s mom’s.”
    Grace opened her mouth to protest, as it was, technically, out of the way for Gretchen to drop her off first, but the other woman gave a minute shake of her head. She was giving Grace an emotional pardon. Once she was out of the car, the other two couldn’t needle her, albeit good-naturedly, about her evening with Justin.
    Nodding, she rewrapped the jacket around her shoulders. “Thanks, Gretch.”
    “No problem,” she answered in a low voice. They headed to the take-out parking slot for the restaurant and Gretchen beeped the little coupe open before flipping the seat forward. “Rocky, you and your punching bag in the back. Grace in front since she’s first out. Not to worry, though. There are still blows to be had. You two can spend the trip to her place fighting over who gets shotgun next.”
    Gretchen kept the dialogue moving all the way to Grace’s place, regaling her with tales of other dancers from the night before. Meg blushingly owned up to buying a lap dance from Nick.