South Row Read Online Free PDF Page A

saw the main event poster. On it was a pair of blue eyes with “ A ray of Sunshine” scrawled beneath it. No, scratch that. A pair of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. So blue that I wondered if they were real. Why did that seem familiar? That’s because you wondered if hers were real too, remember? That annoying voice came back and I had to tamp it down. I didn’t want my night ruined by rehashing memories I had no business remembering.
    “What can I get for you, sugar?” the waitress asks me, bringing me away from my thoughts. She has the cutest Southern accent and looks like a Southern Belle with her golden blonde hair in a mess of cu rls all around her pretty face, those sugary brown eyes assessing me deeply and alluringly, and plump pink lips plastered with lip gloss that she is parting in a big smile.
    The pulling together of the stage curtains snaps my attention back to the stage. The waitress notices my shift in focus and smiles.
    “They’re gettin’ the stage ready for the main event,” she tells me in a Southern drawl.
    “I guess it’s a big deal?” I ask.
    “Oh yeah. She don’t perform around here every night like the regulars do, but when she does perform, it is a sight to behold…somethin’ to witness, I gotta tell ya,” she says, somewhat in awe.
    Now I’m anxious to see if this dancer lives up to the hype. My heart is pounding and I don’t know why.
    “Ok, so I guess everyone’s having it, so I’ll have one too,” I say to her as I look around at the guys nursing their tumblers of blue liquid.
    Belle – because that name would fit her and that damn sexy accent of hers – smiles and winks at me before saying, “One Adios Motherfucker comin’ right up, sugar.”
    The guys whoop and cheer around me, slapping me on the back. You would think it was my bachelor party or something. Wait a minute…
    “Guys,” I call over the music. “Is this some kind of bachelor party?”
    Luke laughs and responds, “This is your pre-bachelor shindig, bud. Enjoy it!”
    I feel a smile tug at my lips and I say, “I fucking love you guys.”
    “Save the emotion for the lap dance we’re gonna get you when you’re shit-faced drunk,” Johann advises on a laugh.
    Belle returns with my drink and I take it, slipping her a twenty in her bosom. She blushes but recovers with a wink and saunters off, swishing her hips a little more than usual.
    “Raise your glasses, assholes,” Wyatt tells us.
    As we do, Connor yells out, “Adios Mother fuckers!” and we down the fire bomb of a drink and slam the tumbler down on the table in front of us.
    “Oww!” Luke howls and claps his hand together. “Another!”
    “This time, y’all need to try the Salty Dog,” Connor suggests.
    “Fuck yeah!” Wyatt exclaims.
    We order and down our drinks as they come. As I am about to slam back another Motherfucker, the stage curtains part and the melodious voice of The Weeknd comes on. As he sings the intro to Wicked Games , my heart starts beating an erratic rhythm. I think I may have alcohol poisoning. Thinking, “ what the hell, I’m dying already” , I put the drink back to my lips, only to be stopped dead in my tracks.
    As the beat comes on and the words start singing, I see the sexiest woman on stage in a swing and I have to agree with the first line of the song; thanking God I left my girl at home.
    The dancer’s body is glowing almost orange and I know it’s because of her too long and too thick red hair. The curly mane is reaches all the way down her back, caressing her soft skin. She is wearing white lace boy shorts and matching lace bra, thigh high stockings attached to her white garter and white fuck-me-hard heels. Yeah, those don’t just say fuck me …they tell you the intensity with which to fuck.
    Even from where I sit, I can see her eyes, though her face is covered with a white mask with fancy filigree at the edges. They are a striking blue and they entrance me. My mouth goes dry and I swallow past the