“I can’t have girls fighting and quitting because you’re too busy playing musical beds,” Alyssa said. “Someone is going to lose every time, and it’s creating a f**king mess that I don’t have time to clean up. I hired Jessi to replace Krystal, who left because she didn’t like being last on your booty-call list. Tyler, Jessi has been with me for three days. Three! I found out this afternoon that you’ve already tapped that, more than once.”
He fidgeted in his seat. “After her first shift, she asked for an escort to her car. The parking lot was dark and empty. I helped her out.”
“By nailing her in the backseat?”
“There’s more room in a Civic than you’d think.”
“Tyler, I know you like to keep things light, but please be serious for a minute.” Alyssa’s voice rang with frustration. “Jessi came crying to me when she found you and Skylar in the dressing room last night after closing. Do I need to enact a strict no-anal-sex policy at the club?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt Jessi’s feelings. I thought she knew the score. I’ll talk to her.” He frowned. “I’m confused about one thing. I’ve bounced there for almost two years. What I do with the girls has never bothered you before. What is this really about?”
There was a long pause, and Delaney watched a few of the women lift glasses of wine and sip nervously.
The other redhead, the one with the baby bump, clutched a water bottle and shifted in the seat. “We think it’s time you settled down.”
“Morgan . . .” he warned. “Don’t try spreading your matrimonial joy on me. Just because you’re all blissful with your monogamy doesn’t mean I’m in any hurry to get there.”
So the redhead’s baby bump wasn’t his doing? Never mind. It’s irrelevant. Focus.
“You’re going to have to grow up,” Morgan pointed out.
Alyssa wagged a finger in his face. “Skylar just turned twenty-two. You’re, what, a decade older?”
Actually, Tyler was thirty-four. Delaney remembered his thirtieth birthday party, during happier times, back when she and Eric—
She shut down that thought and listened to the conversation.
“I didn’t know she was that young. Sorry.” Tyler shrugged. “We weren’t exactly exchanging vital statistics.”
“No,” Alyssa jumped in. “Just bodily fluids.”
“Hey, I always wear a condom.”
Tara grimaced as several others groaned. “Eww. I don’t want details.”
“I’m just saying . . . Let’s not get technical,” he defended. “So I’m older than she is. I’m not the first guy to date a younger woman.”
“Fucking in the back of the club isn’t dating.” Kimber sighed.
“Clean up your man-whore act.” Alyssa looked dead serious. “Or in ten years, you’re going to be a walking stereotype, a middle-aged Lothario hitting on young chicks with your snazzy sports car.”
“I don’t have a sports car, and even if I did, with a name like Cockzilla, everyone would know that I’m not overcompensating for anything I might be lacking.”
Alyssa smacked her hand on the table. “Damn it, are you listening to us at all?”
Tyler sighed. “Yes. Joking aside, I will curb some of my . . . activity at the club. I appreciate your concern. But seriously, I’m not looking for any kind of happily ever after.”
“Too bad,” Kata cut in. “We’re going to find you one.”
He stiffened. “Oh, I get it. You have someone in mind.”
“Well, I thought it would be nice if you’d talk to my cousin, London,” Alyssa suggested as if walking on eggshells. “She just moved here. She’s very sweet and could use a friend.”
“Hell no.”
Kata stood, putting her hands on her very curvaceous hips. “Are you refusing because she’s not a size two?”
Tyler shook his head. “I’ve got nothing against girls with a little extra cushion. But that one has purity written all over her. No f**king way. Alyssa, you don’t like the way I treat your dancers, but you want to unleash me on your little virgin relative?”