I hadn’t thought this would be a big deal, though Hailey’s reactions lately to some of the things we’ve done are probably proof that she hasn’t been taken care of in a while. She’s not a high-maintenance type of girl—it’s easy enough to pay attention to what she likes and put some effort in to make those things happen. It wasn’t exactly rocket science to google ‘hookah bars in Philly’ and then make a reservation. Two hours of my time and $100 for a hookah and some drinks, and my girl will be brimming with happiness.
“What flavor hookah do you want to get?” I ask when she’s settled beside me again. Despite there being plenty of space on the couch, she’s nestled against my side with her hand resting on my thigh, as if she can’t stand the thought of there being any space between us.
“Something fruity,” she chirps. “I never liked the harsh flavors. Orange? Or maybe a berry flavor?”
“Order whatever you want, baby girl.”
After I place our order with the waiter, I see her eyes widening as she spots something behind me. I hear the music change and notice the lights dimming, so I don’t even have to turn around to know what caught her eye. A slow grin slides across my face.
Sure enough, the upbeat music picks up and the conversations around the restaurant dull to a quiet murmur. Everyone’s attention is fixed on the tent flap opening at the back of the restaurant.
Everyone’s except mine, because I can’t stop staring at Hailey’s expression.
She’s awestruck, but also surprised, and a little bit flushed. That flush spreads when the target of everyone’s attention begins moving through the restaurant, closer and closer to where we’re sitting. When she reaches our table, I finally tear my gaze from Hailey and turn to the stunning belly dancer gyrating her hips beside us.
She’s Moroccan and absolutely stunning—the tan color of her skin, the bright green of her eyes, the shiny, dark hair that falls to her waist. She’d be captivating even if she wasn’t dancing in a way that could only be described as hypnotic. But combine her looks and her movement, and everyone in this restaurant is entranced by her.
And the dancer, it seems, is entranced by Hailey.
Where she passed by everyone else’s table, she seems to linger beside ours. Her hips continue to move in a way that only a belly dancer’s can, in a way that captivates anyone watching. Hailey herself seems like she’s under a spell. But so is the dancer, because she can’t take her eyes off the girl currently tucked under my arm.
I squeeze Hailey closer and press my lips against her ear. “I think she likes you.”
She blushes, but she still doesn’t take her eyes off the Moroccan woman.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she,” I murmur. Hailey glances at me, startled, but I just grin and assure her, “Don’t worry, you’re the only one I have eyes for, baby girl.”
She turns back to the dancer, pulled under her spell once again by twirling hands and the circular motion of her hips. "Do you like her?” I continue whispering in her ear. “Do you like watching her move? Because I think she’s dancing for you.”
Hailey doesn’t answer, she just swallows nervously and continues staring. I can’t stop grinning at the sight of a flustered Hailey—and by a woman, no less.
It reminds me of something, and I let my hand start to drift along Hailey’s skin in a pattern that makes her shiver. “Wasn’t kissing a girl one of the things on your list?” I ask with a smile.
Her head snaps to me in surprise. “What?”
My grin only grows. “You heard me.” It distantly registers that the dancer has moved on to another table.
Her expression morphs from shocked to thoughtful. “You would let me do that?”
My smile falters at the reasoning behind her question. But I answer honestly and tell her, “It’s not up to me toletyou do anything, Hailes. You heard what Tristan said about Remy; same goes for me, and for any other self-respecting man. Your decisions are your own. It’s not my place to tell you how to live your life.”
For a moment, she just stares at me. I can’t tell what she’s thinking right now, so I let her process that however she needs to, my touch on her arm and neck never stopping.
“What about sharing me?” she finally asks. “You’d let me kiss a girl even though we’re… together?”
I force myself not to focus on her hesitation with that word. Instead, I run my nose along Hailey’s neck and answer honestly, “Baby girl, I’d let you bring another man into the bedroom if I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Are you serious?” she squeaks. “You would do that for me?”
My brow furrows as I pull away to look down at her. “Of course. Your happiness matters to me. And it’s definitely more important than whatever jealousy issues I may or may not have.”
She stares at me for another moment before shaking her head with a quiet, “You can’t be real.” But then she quirks her head and asks, “Is that something you’d want? Someone to join us in the bedroom? A girl, I assume?”
I shrug. “You’re more than enough for me. I’d do it for you, but I don’t have any interest in bringing anyone else into the bedroom with us.”
Hailey nods and settles back against my side, her gaze moving around the restaurant and eventually settling back on the dancer. I can’t tell if she’s thinking about the girl or about my words, but her posture is relaxed, so I don’t push any further.
It isn’t until the dancer starts making her way back to our table that I break the silence. “She liked you,” I observe, taking another puff of the hookah.