Gotta Have Fate (Winslow Brothers)

My mouth is like a sandy pit of dehydration, and my head is only a few minutes away from starting to pound.

All four of us climb out of the car and start walking at the same time, but it looks very different on some of us. Jude and Ty are so full of endless energy, they practically circle Flynn and me every half a block. Flynn and I are twin pillars of a casual stroll. But instead of getting annoyed, I try my best to let their good time soak into me through my skin.

The truth is, before I met Charlotte, I probably would have been running laps on the sidewalk with them. Jude shuffles to my side, his big, permanent white-toothed smile growing while he waggles blond-hair-veiled blue eyes at me, and I give him a quick shove in the shoulder that makes him run into the brick wall of the building we’re passing. He laughs, and I feel a smile start to creep onto my face.

My brothers really are fun to be around, and after next weekend, it won’t have the same feel ever again. I’ll have a new family of my own to look after.

Resolute, I loosen my shoulders and shake my head. Just enjoy tonight.

I can see across the crosswalk that the line to get into the club is backed up twenty people deep, and my dry mouth calls out to me like a wounded wanderer in the desert.

Thankfully, Taco Bell beckons across the street.

I stutter-step and turn left, ready to cross the street, but Jude catches me by the back of my shirt and stops my momentum.

“Where the hell are you going?” he asks, outraged that I’m changing the plan again, so close to the finish line.

“I’m thirsty. It’s going to be at least half an hour before we get in there. I’m going to get something to fucking drink. You can get in line.”

“No way,” Jude says resolutely. I roll my eyes.

“Jude—”

“No,” he snaps again, turning me around and shoving me out in front of him to bypass the line.

Everyone we walk past pays us little mind—all the way up until the point that we don’t keep walking, but instead stop and watch as Jude strides right up to the bouncer and whispers something in his ear.

He nods, unbelievably, and waves the group of us forward, much to the waiting line’s chagrin.

“Yo, what the fuck?” one guy in front yells, outraged.

I don’t bother to meet his eyes as the bouncer moves the rope and we slide inside.

The music is loud, and the lights are low everywhere but up on the stages. Spotlights sweep and neon lasers strobe as three different women swing around the poles at the ends of their stages, their feet extended out toward the crowd.

They’re all well into the routine, obviously, as their tits are out and bare, their abandoned clothing scattered all over the floor.

Jude and Ty each grab me by one arm, dragging me toward the stage in the center and sitting me down on a chair front and center before occupying the ones right next to me themselves.

Jude’s baby-blue eyes are wide and round like an excited little puppy, and I can’t help but laugh.

“What in the hell did you say to get us in here in front of everyone?” I ask.

“Yeah, that was some shit,” Ty agrees from the other side.

Jude shakes his head and waves me off, never taking his eyes off the stage as the blond woman spins around the pole upside down until her hands hit the floor. She transitions into a handstand, and I have to admit, I’m finding it hard not to watch.

Half naked or not, she’s really fucking athletic.

“Jude, come on. What did you say?” I push.

“Nothing, dude,” he denies again, and while I might have let it go after the first denial, I’m now officially on edge. He’s up to something.

Something cold and hard hits me in the shoulder, and I turn around to find Flynn holding a beer there. Thank God.

“Thanks, man.”

Flynn nods and takes the seat behind me, leaning into the back of it and resting his foot on the back of Ty’s chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

He’s easygoing—I know that about him—but sometimes his ability to compartmentalize his surroundings truly astounds me.

“Pour Some Sugar on Me” hits its final notes as the women onstage crawl around to gather the dollar bills men have placed there in offering. Jude holds a five-dollar bill between his teeth and leans all the way into the edge of the stage as the blonde in front of us crawls toward him.

I have to put my hands on either side of my head to keep it from exploding as she rolls onto her back, leans her head over the edge, and encourages him to place the bill between her bare breasts with his mouth.