3
“Do you have any disinfectant?” I asked with a hiccup. Damn hiccups!
Remy glanced over from the driver’s side. “No. Why?”
“Never mind,” I muttered, distinctly remembering something squishy being pressed against my cheek. If it was what I thought it was . . . Oh, I’m queasy.
“Why am I picking your sorry ass up from a strip club?” he asked.
“It’s guy’s night. Do you know they only drink hard liquor when they go out?” I asked, still feeling the effects of the booze. “They say beer is for at home, not for carousing.” My knotted stomach protested.
“I hate to break it to you, Jet. You’re not a guy.”
“I know, but I’m starting to wish I was. I don’t have any female friends. All my friends are men. At least if I was a man, I wouldn’t mind going to the strip club.”
“What about Mya?”
I smi
