Page 66 of Her Three Rangers

“Go on in, ladies,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, we plan on it,” Liza replied, tossing him a wink as we walked inside.

I could only marvel at her nerve. I was secretly praying we’d get sent to the back of the line, but I should have known that Liza wouldn’t let things like lines or rules or dirty looks from other people slow her down.

Once we were actually inside, I wasn’t sure if I felt better or worse about the whole situation.

In some ways, it was like being in any other club—pulsing music and flashing neon lights that didn’t do much to illuminate the dark corners of the room. But even though it wasn’t as intimidating—or as sexy—as what I had imagined, there was still a certain vibe that made it unlike any other place I’d been before.

The music was a little too loud.

The corners a little too dark.

The large dance floor—complete with a shimmering disco ball—was mostly empty. Instead, there were shadowy forms draped across the black leather couches that lined the room.

I tilted my head upward to find a balcony and could vaguely see images of half-naked people making out against the walls and lounging on more dark couches, their bodies entangled in one another.

“So, what do you think?” Eliza had to practically shout to be heard.

“I think it’s time for me to go home to my computer,” I yelled back.

“Hell, no! Come on, let’s go see what’s going on upstairs!” She grabbed my arm and began to drag me forward again.

My heart pounded at the thought of going up there, where people might actually be having sex right in front of me. My anxiety kept me from moving, and just as I expected the first time Liza tried to drag me somewhere tonight, I stumbled a bit in my heels. But I didn’t fall completely, thank God.

“Maybe we could start with something a little more, um… t-tame?” I fumbled over the words as I tried to keep my balance. “Can we just… go sit at the bar area or something?”

Liza rolled her eyes. “Harlow, you’re here for research, remember? How are you going to do research if you don’t go check out what this club is actually like? We can go to any club in town and just sit at a bar.”

That didn’t sound like such a bad thing to me.

She sighed as I still resisted going upstairs. “Okay, fine. Maybe a drink will loosen you up,” she huffed, changing course to head toward the bar area.

I didn’t plan on drinking, though. I had every intention of walking up to that bar and ordering myself a nice cold glass of water.

I wasn’t trying to rain on Liza’s parade. The only reason I was out here at all was to support her and have some fun. But this was just not my scene at all.

And now that we were actually inside, it was a lot more difficult to fool myself into thinking I’d be able to do any real research. I mean, seriously… the last thing I was thinking of at the moment was my writing.

We walked over to the bar area, and it was impossible not to notice that every single person we passed seemed to stop what they were doing to watch us walk by. My dress and my shoes felt tighter than ever as those feelings of insecurity I’d had outside in the line returned with full force.

I collapsed onto one of the couches once we finally reached the bar area. At least sitting down, I could blend in a little easier. Or I liked to imagine I could.

The black leather felt cold against my bare thighs, and it made a shiver go up my spine when I considered the fact that people might have… y’know…right on this very couch.

I did my best to focus on other things—anything else, really—as a cheery cocktail waitress walked over to us. She was wearing a button-down white blouse and a black miniskirt that barely covered her ass. I looked down at her black heels and tried to imagine how the hell she could actually work while walking in those things.

“What can I get for you girls?” she asked, perfectly balancing the tray in her hands.

“I’ll just have a water with lemon, please,” I told her with a timid smile. I’d pretend it was actually hot tea with lemon, and that instead of sitting on these leather couches, I was curled up in my bed at home.

Liza scoffed, of course. I knew she would. But I was hoping she’d let it go.

“No, no, no. We didn’t come to the bar for water,” she said emphatically.

“Liza, come on…” I mumbled, but she ignored me.

She smiled up sweetly at the waitress. “Yeah, can we actually get two mojitos instead? Forget the water entirely.”