Gavin leaned back in his chair, drink in hand, swirling the amber liquid slowly as his eyes followed Evie across the room. The second she passed by, he lifted his glass slightly in her direction. “You know,” he said smoothly, “Whoever taught you to move like that deserves a thank-you card, because sweetheart, that ass should have its own warning label.” This was him flirting at a strip club, and him being friendly. He gave a small shrug, completely unbothered by his own boldness. “Just being honest. I respect art when I see it.”
He smirked, taking a slow sip. "How much for a lap dance?" He leaned forward slightly, resting his glass against his knee. Gavin was not in the slightest tipsy. "Although I do enjoy the way you swing on that pole."