“I’m not walking down the catwalk naked. Are you serious?” Tyler looked at me like I had two heads.
“Why not?” I shrugged. “We get it on in here all the time. What’s the difference?”
“It’s just so on display on stage…” She glanced around. “What if someone comes in? Or looks in the windows?”
“The shades are drawn, and we’re the only people in the building because it’s four o’clock in the morning,” I countered, since we’d only just finished cleaning up after closing the bar. “Who’s going to see us?”
Tyler laughed and surreptitiously looked around us. “Check all the shades again. And that all the doors are locked—back and front. Just to make sure.”
“Wait, you’re going to do it?” I grinned and then saluted her like an army captain. “Yes, ma’am. I’m on it!”
I’d never made my way around the bar faster than I did then, but every shade was confirmed closed and every door locked. We actually had a break-in through the back door last month and the cash taken out of the register, so I’d since upgraded all the locks and was confident that no one was getting in again.
Only one incident after being open a full year was a success in my book, because KiKi: Cuts and Cocktails had absolutely exploded. If there had ever been a doubt in my mind before, this last year had proved me completely wrong. We were always at capacity Thursdays through Sundays and had steady traffic the rest of the week. We hosted events regularly—everything from political rallies to book signings to friend networking events to celebrations. Even Isa’s boyfriend performed here twice a month, and I couldn’t be prouder of how much she’d stretched herself in this new relationship. She was like an all-new person, and yet, all the best parts of her old self were still untouched. We were still close, and I’d already told Nia she was going to be my maid-of-honor one day because I didn’t want to pick between Mila, Isa, and Rachel.
I’m not a masochist.
My proudest moment so far as a business owner was that we’d hosted our first ever wedding reception last month for two regulars who’d met each other on the evening of our live podcast recording and opening—I know, I couldn’t believe they were already married either.
Tyler and I weren’t at that step yet, but we were living together. It kind of just felt like we were married already, honestly. Eventually we’d make it official, but with how much had been on both of our plates, wedding planning wasn’t at the top of my to-do list. Plus, Tyler had already told me she had a guest list of over three hundred people and a binder of ideas she’d been collecting since she was a little girl. So, I already knew I was going to have to psych myself up for something that extravagant.
Not to mention prep my wallet.
“We’re officially locked down,” I announced to her loudly as I returned to the end of the catwalk that separated the bar area from the hair salon even though Tyler was no longer standing there. “No one is attending this show except me.”
Her face peeked through the curtains at the end of the walk, and she grinned at me. “You ready?”
I pulled up a chair from a nearby table right to the end of the catwalk and sat down, my knees apart with my elbows leaning on them. “Girl, I have never been more ready for anything in my life.”
Music turned on as she disappeared and the lights went dim. Colored spotlights hit the catwalk, and I laughed as her song choice hit me—"Nice and Slow” by Usher. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this earlier, because I was literally on the edge of my seat.
The catwalk had been a huge success at KiKi, both for shows and performances, but also for people wanting to show off new cuts, colors, or makeovers from the salon next door. It had taken about three months after opening to get the salon fully functional and ready to go, but now we regularly served people four hours a day for free, and it was entirely funded by the bar and donations. Not only was I getting a crazy good tax write-off, but we were providing a safe, affirming place for anyone struggling with identity, mental health, or anything else to feel good about themselves and enjoy a little bit of pampering.
But taxes were the farthest thing from my mind when Tyler stepped out onto the catwalk when the beat dropped.
She wasn’t completely naked. Instead, she was still wearing her button-up shirt—now completely unbuttoned and giving me just enough of a glimpse of the sides of her breasts to get me excited—and her small skirt was lower on her hips.
“Whoo hoo!” I catcalled her, pumping my fist in the air as she kept walking toward me to the beat of the music.
She paused halfway down and did a little shimmy where she let her shirt slide down her shoulders but still held closed in front of her breasts. A few more steps and she let it drop onto the stage entirely, proudly on display now. Some more hip swinging, and her skirt was sliding down next, and she wasn’t wearing any undergarments beneath.
I was literally now on the edge of my seat and leaning forward. “Damn, girl!”
Tyler crouched down when she got to the end of the catwalk and beckoned me over with the crook of one finger.
I was up on my feet and at hers in seconds.
She leaned down and let her lips tease mine before she sat on the edge of the stage and wrapped her arms around my neck.
I stepped into her and we kissed like we were starving. My hands slid down her sides, and I pushed her knees apart wider before I began kissing down her neck to her collarbone.
Tyler groaned as she let her head fall back, and she leaned on her elbows as I worked my way down the rest of her body. The song was crescendoing as I gave her breasts some much-needed attention before I kneeled down in front of her. She gasped when my tongue hit her center, and I didn’t stop lapping at her until she was shouting out right along with Usher.
By the time I came up for air, we were several songs into her playlist, and I was pulling her onto her feet. Her eyes were slightly glazed over with a lazy smile on her lips as she fell into my arms. I held her in a tight embrace, and we just stayed like that for a moment.
“Let’s go home,” she finally whispered in my ear, “so we can continue this in bed.”
I grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek before she gathered up her clothes and pulled them back on. “Thank you for my strip show.”
“Anything for you.” She grinned, interlacing her fingers with mine once she was clothed.
I turned off the music and lights, and we headed home together—tonight and every night after.
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