"I'm in love with a stripper
She really think I'm playing, I'm playing
She take me for a joke when I say it
I'm in love with a stripper
Gotta get her, gotta get with her
I can't stay out this club (I'm in love with a stripper)"

___

"Look at this," Harry slaps his phone against Zayn's chest, "S'next week. We're going."

It's a party flyer on Instagram.

"TACOS+TITTIES+TEQUILA," Zayn reads. He blinks, "It's Tuesday."

"Taco Tuesday," Harry clarifies. "Which means free tequila and titties, too. Tacos are proven to taste better with both tequila and titties, Zayn!"

"You sound like a pervert," Zayn laughs.

"If perverts like tacos and titties," he shrugs, "then maybe I am. Maybe I am."

Harry likes Phoenix.

"Fucking obsessed, Haz..."

"With Phoenix?" He grins, grabbing a plum out of Zayn's bowl of fruit. "Maybe I am, maybe I am..."

Zayn snorts.

"But, what? My mate's dating one of the babes. Should I not want to tag along?"

Zayn fights a grin. It was funny, honestly. He'd received a text from Asmaa literally the night before: ALL THE GIRLS THINK YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND!!!

And Zayn hasn't even responded for real to this--all he could do was send that laugh/crying emoji--because that was a huge step.

Was he really ready to take it?

But, when Asmaa explained more thoroughly why the girls all thought that, and how she lied to get her manager off her back, other questions crossed his mind...

He needed to see her.

"Go on, then," Harry smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, "You might as well say it."

Zayn deadpans, "Say what?"

"You like her," Harry laughs, throwing up his hands, "That before you know it, you're gonna be cuddled up just like Lou--"

"Don't," Zayn interjects, "say it."

And Zayn scoffs. "Saw 'im at the club, you know that? I was leavin' my dance and saw him. He was there with--"

"Her," Harry laughs, eyes flickering to the ceiling. "I know. Saw 'im, too."

Zayn sighs, his gaze resting on the street below, his eyes trained out the window.

"Heard he texted Luke for his birthday," mutters Harry. "I think he talks to Ni sometimes, too."

Zayn plays absentmindedly in the hair on his chin. "S'too hard to be mad at Ni."

Harry nods.

And he stares at his boots. "S'weird," he begins, slowly and deeply, "So fucking weird."

Zayn looks up. "What?"

"Just..." Harry chuckles softly. "Just how everything's changed."

And before Zayn can react or respond, Harry's changed the subject, his cheeky grin back, his playful air returning.

"Where's Cal anyway? Where're the boys?"

"Dunno," shrugs Zayn. "Think he said he's going out with Luke."

__

"--I really really have a taste for rum."

"You say that every time we go to the bar," Desirée laughs, "And you never get it."

"'Cause they never have Rum Chata," she groans, as the girls stand at the bar of their favorite Irish pub and peruse the menu, "which is really a cultural travesty."

Desi chokes on a laugh. Going out with Kezie was always a ride. With her, you were bound to have an adventure.

Which is why Desirée typically didn't mind meeting her for drinks.

But, Desi had just gone to the gym and they'd spent the whole morning together so far...and she loved the company; it sure beat going home to be by herself.

And she was kind of tired of always being by herself.

Not to mention, her weekend had been fairly lucrative and pretty fun...she was running on a friendship high. Blaire even surprised them at Phoenix on Saturday night. Desi, despite her tough exterior, was in love with these girls she called her friends.

So, naturally, when Kezie called asking to meet up for dinner, she took it.

She was starving.

"Kezie?"

And that's when they run into--

"Calum."

Desirée smirks at her side.

This evening sure got a lot more interesting.

Typical outing with Chikezie.

"Hey..." And Desi notes how Kezie's shrank back against her. "What're...uh, what're you doing here?"

He holds up a bag of groceries. "Kind of owe my mate some food," he chuckles, "since we eat it up."

"Vultures, are you?" She jokes.

"Yeah," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, "Guess we are..."

And Kezie frowns. "Wait...we?"

"Oh yeah," Calum nods. "We kind of took a break from Tesco so, m'here with--"

"Kezie!"

And they both turn, as the tall, leggy blonde gets their attention, weaving through the people in the pub and makes his way towards the bar.

It's Desirée's turn to shrink backwards.

And with her arm linked through Kezie's, she can't go anywhere.

"Hi, babe," he exclaims, sticking bags in his own hands as his blue eyes light up and he holds out his long arms and throws them around Kezie. "S'been ages since I've actually seen you."

"Not ages," Kezie grins, shoving him playfully.

"Just long enough for it to be a problem," is his reply. "Calum never tells us when you two hang out," and he pouts adorably, "S'really unfair if you think about it."

Calum's gaze lingers on Kezie. "S'been a really long time since we hung out, anyway."

"Anyway," Kezie continues, moving on quickly as bubbly and unphased as ever.

And pushes Desirée forward, towards the two men.

She fights against her friend. "Kezie..."

"Luke, Calum, this is Desirée. Desi, I went to school with these two."

"Hey."

"Desirée..."

And Calum squints at her, the pieces suddenly seeming to fall together in his mind. "Have I...Haven't I seen you before?"

Desirée and Luke seem to gulp at the same time.

"Of course," Kezie rolls her eyes. "You got thrown out on the night of her party."

"Oh..."

And Calum's eyes flicker knowingly between Kezie and Luke and linger on Luke.

"Right..."

Desirée looks around awkwardly. All of a sudden, she's feeling uncomfortable, standing in front of these men, fully clothed.

For some reason.

"I'm gonna..." she jerks a thumb behind her, "order drinks," she says, "and leave you three to it..."

"I'll come," Luke adds quickly, before Desirée can slink away, "since I'm left out of you guys' plans, anyway."

"Wait, guys," Kezie groans, "don't leave."

"Ah, c'mon, Kez," Desi slinks from Kezie's grip. "I'll let the childhood friends talk."

"But--"

And she power-walks away from the three friends, despite the pleading looks Kezie is giving both her and Luke.

Desirée's known about Calum.

She, like Rory, used to see him around when he used to be Kezie's ride to and from school, or to and from the club.

Lately, Desi hasn't seen him around as much.

But, she figured that has a lot to do to with whatever happened between the two of them when Calum came over that morning before brunch; that morning before she met her and the rest of the girls with Blaire.

Either way, Desi knew Kezie still liked Calum.

Despite the hickies and the sex, Desirée knew that Kez was at least harboring feelings, still. Desirée knew that sex on top of a friendship was never a good mix--it was never easy to bounce back from.

Desi knew that from experience.

But, it was up to Kezie to confront those feelings, and that's why she left her; that's why she let her have her own conversation with Calum, because lately, it had seemed, she'd been avoiding him.

Desirée walks to the bar. She's starving, having just worked out with Chikezie beforehand. And, she's never going to a bar to not drink.

She orders chips and a Tequila Sunrise.

The bartender nods, "Patrón okay?"

She hums, "Mhm," when all of a sudden, there's a, "And one glass of the house punch," behind her.

The bartender nods again, looking between the two. "One tab?"

"No, thanks--"

"Yeah," and Desirée intakes a quick breath, startled slightly as Luke reaches around her, sticking his credit card in the bartender's open hand.

"Great. thanks mate."

Luke nods. "Keep the tab open, yeah?"

"Sure, mate. Be right back with those drinks."

And he leaves them alone at the end of the bar.

Desirée turns abruptly, punching him in his chest. "What. Was. That. Luke?"

"Hey, hey!" He exclaims, laughing as he recoils beneath her fists. "I was just trying to help, okay?"

"I can buy my own drinks."

"Shit--Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" He laughs, rubbing his chest. And Desirée stops punching him only to fold her arms across her chest.

"What?" She demands.

"You remembered my name," he sings.

And she turns away. "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"Of course. I know that," and he grins as she fights the way his sincerity is just--ugh.

He's much more confident and self-assured now as opposed to their first encounter , where he'd been a young, sweaty mess.

"Shit...Your fists are like babies hands, y'know that, right?"

"I..." Now, she uncrosses her arms, opening her hands and staring at them. "They're not!"

"But," he grins, staring down at her--she was only 5'4", so his six-foot frame was skying over hers, "they kind of are."

"I..." She falters. And she punches him again, "Whatever."

He snickers.

The bartender returns with two full glasses.

"Enjoy," he nods, as they grab for their drinks. "Holler if you need anything."

Desirée looks down, eyes on the alcohol. She almost wants to laugh, but she doesn't. Here she was trying to avoid this man and never speak to, or see him, again.

She had literally prayed that he'd never step foot in Phoenix again.

And here he is.

What were the odds that she'd run into him here? With Kezie? And her man?

What were the odds that Luke was also one of her best friend's best friends?

Desirée had really hoped that she never saw Luke after that one dance in the club.

Mostly.

And he was really not letting her forget him so easily.

Desirée is highly aware of their proximity. They're both leaned against the bar, and Luke's kind of leaning against her, and she can feel his cotton black jumper against her arm as he sips whatever alcoholic mixture's in the pub's house punch.

"Didn't you also order chips, Tia?"

His question snaps her from her thoughts.

"What?"

"You ordered chips, yeah?"

"You..." She blinks, "You just call me Tia?"

"That is your name," he grins, "Isn't it Tia?"

"I don't mix business with personal shit," she snaps. "And the answer's yes since you're paying."

Luke shrugs, seemingly un-phased by her attitude. "Don't mix, eh?" He grins, "Well, seems like me buying chips for Desirée is different than me doing the same for Tia Sangria," his smile grows as she groans, a tongue against her cheek, "since one wouldn't give me her number, and m'hoping another would."

And he sips his drink, a smile gracing his attractive face, "Right?"

"What part of, I don't mix business with personal life, don't you understand?"

"Don't think I'm mixing anything if Desirée goes out with me," he grins, and she notes the slight dimples in his cheeks, "Am I?"

She looks around, searching for Kezie in the pub. She hated this; attention being on her like this. And she catches sight of Kezie in a two-seat booth with Calum, way too far away to save her from these questions.

"Jesus Christ, Luke," she throws up her hands. "The fuck're you so persistent?"

He grins cheekily. "Thank you."

And Desi fights that laugh threatening to bubble over. "Goodbye, Luke."

He giggles to himself, and at the sound of his laughter, a part of Desi is pleased.

But, only a small part.

"Stop harassing me, Luke."

"Harass--?" He stops himself, noting the light in her eye. He lifts his straw from his drink, flicking the moisture at her.

"Hey!" She gasps.

"Stop trying to get rid of me."

She pauses wiping her face roughly. "Who says I'm trying to get rid of you?"

Luke grins broadly, "Y'know, if you like me--"

"Who says I like you?"

"--then, you might as well tell me when're we going out," he pauses, "Desirée."

She gulps. It was going to be too hard to ignore him now that he knew she was so close to Kezie.

"Sorry," she bats her lashes, "I don't date boys."

"You're in luck," he grins, as she takes a long sip of her drink--she's too hungry for this alcohol, honestly...Where were her chips, again? "I'm a man."

"I didn't know you knew Calum," she states at once, changing the subject, "or Kezie."

"Went to school together," Luke nods, drinking, too, "Primary and secondary school," and he narrows his eyes, "Way to change the subject."

She grins, reaching for her drink again. "I'd love to see Kezie in school."

He taps his rings against the glass. "She wasn't that different," he grins. "She just looked like, super skinny. No curves. The way she acts is exactly the same."

"So, cute and friendly?" Desirée laughs as he nods. "Sounds about right."

"She was always keeping us out of trouble," he grins, "until we actually did something to make her want to tag along."

"So..." Desirée begins, "She and Calum back then...They weren't like--?"

Luke raises his brows. "Fucking?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

He laughs again. "Nah, they weren't," he looks away, laughing at the memories. "They were just friends."

Desi snorts. "Kind of like they are now."

"Mhm--'best friends,'" he replies with the air quotes. And he laughs to himself, "You do know Kezie."

And Desirée finds herself kind of grinning, giggling. She's blaming it on the alcohol. Her drink's practically gone. So is his.

The bartender returns with a plate of chips, now.

"Sorry about the wait, love," he says, and Desi grins with a 'Thanks,' as he takes note of their empty glasses. "Another round?"

Desirée and Luke both turn to each other.

"Uh..."

And Desi looks around for Kezie.

Luke leans towards her, "What're they looking like?"

She snorts, "Still talking."

"'Course," Luke laughs, "Like best friends do."

And Desirée laughs aloud.

And Luke smiles.

"Yeah," he nods, "I'll take another."

"Me too," she finds herself grinning. Another round wouldn't hurt--besides, she was waiting for Kezie. She couldn't leave until she wanted to. "I'll take another one, too."

The bartender nods, shooting them a thumbs-up. "Same drinks's before, yeah?"

Luke nods and Desi pauses.

"Uh..." She shakes her head, "I think I'll try the punch this time--"

Luke leans against her, "Copycat."

She jabs an elbow against his chest, his laugh sounding over the noise in the pub.

The bartender nods. "Right--"

"--if you could tell me what's in it?"

"Oh," he nods, "S'like a Long Island but, y'know," he grins, "our special mix of tequila, vodka, triple sec, lemonade, and sherbet."

Desi swats Luke's hand as he reaches for her chips.

He steals one anyway.

"S'delicious," he whispers. "Should've asked for some of mine."

"Yeah, then," she says as he chuckles, mouth full beside her, "I'll have a glass of the punch."

Famous last words.

An hour and a half later, Kezie and Calum are nowhere to be found in the small Irish pub.

Luke's said, "Fuck 'em."

Desirée is drunk.

Like, tunnel vision drunk. Like, wobbly drunk. Like, pre-Phoenix-drunk. Drunk as fuck. Drunk like Long Island's and house punches make everyone who only eats about half their chips beforehand because an attractive young man's eaten all the rest.

And talked to her the times they weren't eating.

It wasn't great.

Not to Desi.

She wasn't trying to find this man attractive or funny or interesting or smart. She wasn't supposed to learn that he was good at science and maths and was teased about it in school until he met Kezie. Desirée wasn't supposed to learn that he and Kez bonded in study groups.

And he wasn't supposed to tell her about the adventures he'd gone on with Calum and their two other friends from Australia, and he wasn't supposed to tell her that he was an engineer at Google and he loved his job but he really wanted to play guitar.

"My mate's studying music now at King's and," he shrugged, "I dunno. I feel like if he goes off and pursues it, I can, too."

And more than anything, he wasn't supposed to take an interest in Desirée's life.

"What do you want to do, though?" He asks. "Enough about me."

She snorts. "Strip forever, of course."

"Hey," he grins, both of them giggling drunkenly, "I'm serious."

She sighs, slipping on her stool. "You'll laugh if I tell you."

"I guarantee I won't."

And something about those bright blue eyes clouded by her punch goggles makes her say, "I wanted to be a teacher."

Luke pulls back. "Seriously?"

"Primary school," she nods. "Like, age five."'

"Seriously?"

She purses her lips. "Strippers can't be teachers, can they?"

"No no," he says at once. "I just--Why don't you do it, then? You still want to be one, don't you?"

"I..." And she blinks. "Yeah. I kind of do."

"So?" Luke grins, and he's got his arms folded on the bar, his weight resting towards her. They're sitting quite close. "Do it."

"I--" She stops, her own laugh pausing her statement. "I don't believe you."

And he reels back. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." she blinks again, "What the fuck were you doing in Phoenix?"

He laughs. "What's that got to do with you being a teacher if you wanna be one?"

"'Cause the men who come into Phoenix aren't sweet and well meaning," she reaches for her straw, "Not the ones I encounter, anyway."

"Everything ends," he shrugs. "Jobs, friendships, life..." He stares ahead, "I've learned that the hard way..."

Desi watches as he turns to her.

"So, I figure you might as well make a list of a lot of things you want, 'cause when you're not stripping anymore, or doing whatever the fuck you're doing now, you're gonna want to move on to the next thing, right?"

"I..." Desirée had never been around anyone outside of her coworkers, the other girls, who discussed stripping so casually...like it was just a regular job.

She nods. "You're right..."

He leans against her, his breath tickling her cheek. "I think the worst thing in life is when you don't go after something you want."

Desi turns, staring deep into those eyes.

"'Cause," he licks his lips, "if you try and don't get it, at least you still gave it all you fucking had."

He drums his knuckles against the wooden bar. "And you can't be mad at yourself when you know, deep down, that there was nothing else you could do."

"How..." She squints, "Why're you so wise?"

And he laughs aloud, running one hand through his hair. "'Cause I'm drunk," he replies, giggling softly, "And I'm trying really hard to impress this woman I like."

Desirée finds herself smiling.

"Also," he rises from his stool, "I'm literally about to pee myself."

"Oh my god," she sighs, "same," and she hops from the bar. "You know where the toilets are?"

He bows, extending an arm to their right, "This way, my lady."

Desirée snorts, rolling her eyes. "You're so fucking weird, Luke."

"I know, it's a problem," he laughs. And he follows behind her towards the toilets. "But at this point I can't help it."

And Desirée finds herself giggling as they find the hallway where men and women's restrooms are marked, the doors facing each other in the back of the pub.

Desi wonders to herself as she pees what the fuck her life has come too.

She's wobbling, and she's wearing Nikes. Like, she has no excuse for her stumbling as she makes her way from the stall to the sink as to why she has to steady herself with a hand on the wall. She fucking grimaces as she washes her hands, staring at herself in the mirror wondering why of all days she had to run into Luke when she was in a workout top and leggings, her dark baseball cap thankfully covering her barely combed hair and makeup-less face.

She was hating herself seriously as she dried her hands, because she was actually trying to go quickly to get back to Luke.

She was trying to get back to talk to Luke.

No.

Stop, Desirée.

She knew better. She knew better than to one, mess around with a younger man and two, mess around with any man that stepped foot in Phoenix.

She was not Blaire.

But, she's tripping and stumbling, grabbing the door and exiting the bathroom and running right back into the tall blonde, who's leaning casually against the wall, waiting for her.

He lifts his head and smiles broadly.

"Guess what?" He asks, walking towards her.

She pauses in the empty hall, hands on her hips. "You're gonna tell me anyway."

He laughs at this, nodding. "I'm so fucking drunk."

He's backing her up against the wall as his head ducks towards hers and his hands find their way around her waist and her hands run up the sleeves atop his muscular forearms.

She laughs aloud. "Fuckin' same."

And Desirée hates that his hands have left her waist as her back hits the wall. She hates that he's got both hands on either side of her head. She hates that his face is so close because she hates that his face is also too far.

"I know we're not at the club," he whispers, "but I gotta ask..."

"Ask what?"

He grins, "Can I touch you?"

She opens her mouth to reply, and it's this answer she gives that leads her to wake up the following morning, naked, in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar room, beside Luke Hemmings.

___

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