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Scout simply presses her lips together and nods, thankfully sparing us the descriptive details.

My dad pulls a phone from his pocket and begins typing something.

“Hey!” Luka says. “How’d you get past the phone police? They confiscated mine at the door.”

“Perk of sleeping with the director.” Dad winks over the top of his reading glasses, then goes back to his typing. “And I’m the emergency contact in case your mother needs anything.”

Still looking at the phone he’s holding with two hands, he asks, “Now, where would one order gray sweatpants?”

“You can pretty much find them anywhere.” Luka takes a sip of his wine. “The most important thing is going commando.” He wets his lips and looks at Scout. “Then if you can get her to sit on your lap⁠—”

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Scout interrupts, her cheeks flushed bright red.

Luka just shakes his head and laughs, like she’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen. It’s disgustingly sweet.

“Add to cart,” my dad says before pocketing his phone.

The mental image of my dad walking around in gray sweatpants, dick swinging, flashes in my mind. I quickly shake it away, replacing it with Kira in that red lingerie, staring up at me on her knees. Great, and now I’m lightheaded.

Luka snaps his fingers, like he’s remembering something. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I remember Guy telling me something about Darcy having to straddle him during a lap dance. I want to say one of them was blindfolded too, but I can’t be sure…”

Scout takes a bite and nods. “I think you’re right,” she says once she’s done chewing. “Seems like she dry-humped him during dress rehearsal.”

Perfect. I’m so happy for that visual. Now I have Kira in that red lingerie stuck in my head, only it’s not me standing over her. It’s my doofus little brother.

I clench my jaw so hard, I’m afraid I may crack a molar.

Once again, the lights go dark, and the conversation fizzles out. Spotlight finds a single chair.

Luka nudges me with his elbow and not so quietly whispers, “I think this is the scene.”

I slap his hand away.

When Kira steps into the scene, I nearly fall out of my seat. Her hair’s pulled up into an updo, dark strands hanging loose, framing her face. She’s wearing a scarlet lace corset dress, the high slit parting to reveal a long, toned leg.

My mouth goes dry, and I sit there frozen, my glass halfway to my lips.

“…I don’t know, Mike… It wouldn’t be proper…” She drags a finger along the chair, looking hot as sin as she bats her eyelashes.

Guy lifts her chin, staring down into her eyes. “Who said I wanted you to be?”

“What if I’m bad at it?” She looks down at her hands clenching the chair. “It’s just that…I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Jesus Christ.

My jaw tightens, and I clench my fist in my lap, staring straight ahead. I may be partial, but anyone who’s ever criticized this woman’s acting talent needs to have their eyes checked.

As painful as it may be, I find myself unable to look away.

Guy lifts her chin, staring down into her eyes, then pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket as soft music begins to play. “Stop thinking about it and just feel. Here, let me show you.” He guides her down to the chair and looks at the audience as he says, “Now if you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” He walks off stage, and now, thanks to Luka’s play-by-play, I know exactly what’s about to happen.

Oh, hell no.

I can’t take it anymore.

I may be the nice guy in every aspect of my life, but I draw the line at watching my little brother get a lap dance from my dream girl.

Even if it is scripted.