Sensing her hesitation, Sammy went on. “It’s not a big deal, Lia. It’s not like you’re having sex with anyone. Just showing off. That’s what I tell myself. Look right over their heads if that’s easier. Pretend to get off on yourself. That will be better than looking at them and feeling awkward.”
Lia gave her a less-than-convincing, close-lipped grin. Sammy had no idea how inexperienced Lia really was. She watched her friend leave and shuffled through her purse.
Once more, she checked her cell phone, both hoping to see a call from Tyler and also praying she didn’t. Distancing herself from him over the past few days had been absolutely excruciating. But once she’d decided to give this a try, she’d seen no other option.
Tonight, she would know if it was something she was willing to continue. If not, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Right? And if she handled it well—maybe even had fun?—then she’d tell him, and it would be up to him to cut off contact with her. Which he would undoubtedly do.
* * *
The brunette on stage was beautiful, and her body was . . . wow. A man would be a liar to deny it. But Tyler was not enjoying the show. He glanced over to Jase and Mark who were currently shoving bills into the string of her panties, but honestly, neither of them seemed to be into it. Reeve was typing on his phone, probably texting with Emily, and Aiden was leaning back in his chair watching with a stoic face. He’d placed a fifty-dollar bill at the edge of the stage probably just because he thought it was the right thing to do. When the brunette had begun to crawl toward him, Tyler watched the guy just lift a hand as if to say, “I pass on a lap dance, but thanks.”
Tyler had yet to spend a dime, and honestly, he didn’t want to. He wanted to leave. And wow, it occurred to him that for a pack of bachelors, they really all deserved their Man Cards revoked for acting like a bunch of douchebags at the strip club. But honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to care too fucking much. He was still in a piss-poor mood, and not even the naked brunette could pull him out of it.
Movement behind them caught his attention. It was the big blond bouncer from the front door. He leaned over Reeve’s shoulder.
“No cell phones.”
“Ah, sorry, man. My bad,” Reeve said. The bouncer made him show him his photos anyway to make sure he hadn’t taken any of the girl on stage. Reeve then slid his phone into his pocket.
When they were alone again, Reeve glanced over at Tyler. “We suck at this. Last time I was in a club my cell phone didn’t even have a camera.”
“No shit. Me too,” Tyler said, taking a drink of his beer.
“We’re all pussy-whipped. That’s why,” Reeve replied.
Tyler glanced down the row at their friends. “Okay I know you are, and I get Mark being depressed. And yes, Jase is all kinds of messed up over Hannah. But . . .” Tyler tilted his head back, indicating Aiden who sat to his right.
Reeve raised an eyebrow and then spoke, obviously trying to do so as quietly as possible and still be heard over the music. “You already mentioned her.”
Tyler considered that, his brow furrowed. Hannah? He mouthed it to Reeve who nodded in response.
“No fucking way,” Tyler said. Reeve just raised his eyebrows in agreement.
So, Tyler’s quiet, broody but loyal buddy had a thing for Hannah, Jase’s life-long crush. As long as Tyler had known Jase, he’d been hearing about Hannah. They’d met as children, grew up as neighbors. Jase was practically part of her family. Oddly enough, the two of them still weren’t a real couple, but that didn’t mean Aiden would disrespect his friend. He’d take his feelings for her to his grave. Poor guy.
Tyler and Reeve refocused on the stage. Brunette had lost her top. Still . . . Tyler couldn’t summon much excitement. Sure, her tits were nice and perky, and definitely fake as hell. He knew some that were real and soft, with rosy nipples that puckered under his tongue.
Their server, a cute and very smiley young woman who had introduced herself as Sammy, came by and brought them another round. Tyler went ahead and slipped her a five-dollar bill.
Reeve leaned over. “My phone is buzzing. Be back.”
Tyler just lifted his chin. The guy was probably going to go finish his conversation in the bathroom, if Tyler knew him. Reeve was crazy in love with Emily, and his loyalty had no doubt been put to the test with this outing. He hadn’t missed any of Mark’s birthday celebrations for the past four or so years, as it had become a tradition. Tyler was impressed with Emily for being cool enough to let it happen, although Reeve was clearly feeling guilty.
The dancer on stage was now down to nothing at all, and Tyler’s thoughts went to Lia once more. Every time she crossed his mind, the first emotion to surface was frustration. He missed her like crazy, and he only hoped things weren’t doomed the way he felt they were. The next emotion to follow was anger. Anger at her for not opening up to him about whatever the hell was going on in her head. The last time they’d been together, it had been amazing. The feel of her naked body, and the taste of her still lingered at the forefront of his memory. He thought about her constantly, and the fact that she’d been “busy” every time he reached out was not cool. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
Okay, so they hadn’t put a label on it, but there was no fucking doubt that they were seeing each other. She basically admitted it herself that she didn’t go as far as she had unless the person meant something. So he couldn’t figure out what the problem might be. Had they gone too far? He’d purposely stopped them, just to prevent her from having that feeling. Had he hurt her feelings by stopping them?
The song ended, and the woman began to scoop up the remaining bills on the stage. Suddenly feeling guilty for taking up space, Tyler leaned over and dropped a five. She swiped it up and blew him a kiss.
Yeah, yeah. Whatever.
“Hey, man.”
Tyler looked over to find Reeve sitting back down beside him.
“Does Lia have a sister?”
Tyler narrowed his gaze. “No. Why?”
Reeve angled his head to the side. “I just passed this redhead in the hallway who looked a lot like her. Crazy.”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he glanced around the room. Lia was a brunette, and his eyes landed on every woman in the place, assessing. He didn’t see any redheads and hadn’t since they’d walked in. Huh. He looked back at Reeve. “I don’t know.”
“I’m sure it was nothing. Just a resemblance.”
“Yeah . . . probably.” But now that Reeve had mentioned her, Tyler’s heart began to pound against his ribs. Something niggling at the edge of his mind.
Second job. She worked at a bar, in Junction City—wasn’t that what she’d said? They were just west of Junction.
The next song came on, and a woman’s sultry voice started up as a dancer with the flimsiest, little floral dress walked up the stairs to the stage. The hem barely brushed the bottom of her ass. Her full red hair fell past her breasts, and Tyler settled back into his chair, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.
Reeve hit his arm. When Tyler looked over, his friend pointed at the stage and mouthed, “Her.”
Tyler refocused his eyes on the woman’s face. The main lights hadn’t come up yet, and she was currently just moving back and forth, her body swaying to the music. Then she reached out for the pole, letting her body angle back.
When she spun around, her thigh gripping the metal, Tyler noticed how beautiful her legs were. She made another spin and then stood up, her hands going to her skirt and sliding it up to reveal her almost pointless black panties. He could feel the pounding of the music along with his heart, although he didn’t know why.
A spotlight followed her hands as they continued up her body, and then he looked at her face once more. He squinted. Her overly made up eyes were staring up at the ceiling, her lips parted seductively. There was so much hair framing her face, but something urged him to stare at her.
Was it paranoia? Attraction? Suddenly she pulled the dress over
her head and let it flutter to the stage. Holy shit. She grabbed the pole once more and hooked her ankle on the bottom before leaning back. This time a lock of hair fell back, exposing her profile fully.
Fuck. No.
Tyler was frozen in the chair, his eyes darting over every inch of her body, taking inventory, comparing this . . . stripper to the woman he’d been in bed with just a week ago.
He gripped the arms of his chair, seeing red. His gaze darted around the stage, taking notice of every set of eyes on his woman.
“Shit, man,” he heard Reeve say beside him. “Be cool.”
Tyler pinched his eyes shut, suddenly humiliated and furious.
“What’s going on?” Aiden leaned forward, obviously sensing something.
Noise began to muffle in Tyler’s ears, the room practically spinning. He clinched his fists as he barely made out the conversation between his friends. His eyes couldn’t look away. He stared, willing her to look at him, to tell him this was a nightmare.
And then she did.
Her mouth, which had been lightly parted on a seductive smile, dropped open, her eyes bugged out. Then the look of pure fear and shame on her face had him pitying her for a second. From the corner of his eye, Tyler caught sight of the big-ass cowboy of a bouncer heading toward Lia, concern on his face. Oh hell, no.
The minute Tyler darted out of his chair, Lia turn and ran. She clunked down three steps, the bouncer right behind her. Tyler didn’t slow down, pushing chairs out of his way.
He heard the faint call of his name from someone, but ignored it. Making his way around the stage, he shoved a couple of idiots out of his way and scooted through two more tables. A beer spilled onto the floor. Other men yelled their annoyance at his disregard but he couldn’t care less.
Catching sight Lia and the bouncer entering a room at the end of the hallway, Tyler didn’t hesitate to barrel his way in. Lia stood in the center of the room, her eyes pleading, and the big brute of a bouncer had his beefy hands on her shoulders.
“You shouldn’t be in here!” she yelled at him. Her voice was the final piece of the puzzle. He’d known. The minute their eyes had met he’d known it was his Lia, but hearing her sweet voice was almost enough to kill him.
“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he bit out. He pointed a finger at the shocked bouncer. “And you . . . get your fucking hands off her.”
The guy released her and came charging toward Tyler. Yeah, bring it, good ol’ boy.
“Tyler, no, don’t hurt him.”
He ignored her cry for the piece of shit and held his ground, letting the guy think he was going to get the first swing in. But the second his paw neared Tyler’s face, he weaved and backed up several feet. Tyler grinned. “Close, asshole. Come again.”
The guy growled and charged once more. Instincts kicked in, and Tyler held him off again, but also managed to turn and place his knee firmly in the guy’s gut. The big guy let out a loud oof, doubling over, and suddenly Tyler wanted nothing more than to fight this man till he was black and blue. It had been many years, and he’d had a lot of fights, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so worked up.
Taking the opportunity, Tyler quickly grabbed his massive arm, yanked it behind his back which effectively pulled the guy upright. With a swift move, Tyler had his arm locked around the other man’s neck.
“Tyler, no!” Lia shrieked. “Let Elliott go.”
Elliott, huh? Looking over, Tyler saw Aiden and Reeve in the doorway. Suddenly he felt like he was going to be sick. A little shocked, he slowly released his hold on “Elliott’s” neck and pushed the guy away from him. He should have known the big guy wouldn’t go down without a fight, because in an instant his fist plunged into Tyler’s side.
He growled, absorbing the blow as best as he could, but he’d fought with much better than this.
“Oh shit,” he heard Reeve mutter. “Back up.”
Lia’s pleas for him to stop were the last sounds he heard as he pulled back his elbow, and then let his fist connect with Elliott’s jaw.
Doubling over again, this time holding his face, the guy began to stagger. Tyler bent over, grabbed a fist of his shirt and yanked him up. Flattening him against a wall, he used a hand on the guy’s chin and jaw to immobilize his head. Forcing him to look at him.
“You listen here, big boy. I didn’t come here looking for trouble. But if you touch me . . . or more importantly her, again, I will fucking destroy you.” Tyler pushed off and backed away.
“I’m calling the cops,” a woman’s voice said from the other end of the room.
“No! Please, don’t,” Lia cried. Tyler watched in utter revulsion as she walked over to Elliott and asked if he was okay.
“Fuck this,” Tyler said. Without looking back, he turned and headed for the door. He inhaled deep, blew it out. Repeating the process, he strode through the crowd, each long stride feeling like slogging through deep water. His anger felt like an animal clawing at his insides, and if he didn’t get out of the building he was going to unleash it.
Inhale, exhale. Repeat.
Pushing open the entrance, he stepped outside and inhaled one last time before leaning over and putting his hands on his knees.
He could sense his friends behind him, waiting. They all remained silent, thankfully. He stood up and let his shoulders droop, trying to release some of the tension in his neck. Ever since he’d heard her voice, his muscles had been in fight mode. Not because he wanted to hurt her. He would never hurt her. But he wanted to hurt someone. He hadn’t had the urge to beat the shit out of someone in years.
Then he thought of her, and recalled the fear in her eyes. Damn. Now his shame became a physical ache, almost as powerful as the pain in his heart after what he’d just discovered.
His Lia, the woman saving herself for the man she could trust. The first person who came along and made him feel something besides lust . . . took her clothes off for other men. For money. Maybe she even touched them.
Oh God. He couldn’t let his mind go there.
“I gotta get the hell out of here.” Remembering he’d just screwed up their evening, he turned to the guy they were supposed to be cheering up. “Mark, man. I’m so sorry I fucked up your birthday party.”
He held out a hand to his friend who took it, pulling Tyler in for a quick hug. “No worries, man. I’m sorry that just happened.”
Tyler stood and nodded. “Not as sorry as me.”
He glanced at Aiden, somber as always. His friend nodded. Tyler said a quick goodbye to the rest of the guys and then he and Aiden were loaded up in Aiden’s Jeep, heading back to Manhattan with only the sound of Willie Nelson filling the silence. Tyler was grateful his friend knew and respected that he’d need the time to just wind down. There was nothing to be said.
When they pulled into town, Tyler considered the fact that Lia drove almost an hour to work at that shithole. It occurred to him, she had no intention of ever telling him about the fact that she was a stripper, which also told him she’d never had any intention of staying with him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was one in the morning when Lia pulled into the parking lot of her complex. She’d been numb the entire drive home. Normally she would have cried, and she’d wanted to, but for some reason she’d just felt . . . resigned.
Now they both knew the truth. She was a stripper and he would turn violent when he was angry. At least she knew before it was too late. The thought that she’d almost trusted him enough made her frustrated with herself. She’d let him in because she thought she’d read him right. He’d made her feel safe. Once again, she’d been misled.
Grabbing her bag, Lia got out of the car. She’d changed into her yoga pants and a T-shirt as usual so her neighbors didn’t think she was a woman of the night. They probably suspected anyway, but oh well. Her hair was still in the messy little bun she put it up in to accommodate her wig.
It was cold out tonight, her breath coming out in puffs as she
walked to the sidewalk and then toward her front door. That was when she saw Tyler sitting on the ground, leaning against the same brick column he’d pushed her up against a month ago to kiss her senseless.
She froze and then swallowed hard. Even after what she’d seen tonight, she still had an innate desire to rush over and put her hands around him. She stayed still. “How long have you been here?”
He shrugged. “Give or take a few hours.”
“Why?”
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “I honestly don’t know.”
Lia looked away, those damn tears finally trying to make an appearance. Just at the right time.
“It’s cold,” she said.
“It is.”
She wasn’t prepared to ask him in, so she stood there a good six feet away, staring at him. He stared back. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, she wrapped her arms around herself. “What do you want, Tyler?”
Another ice-cold laugh. He shook his head. “Hell, with this bitchy attitude you’re giving me, somebody might think you caught me doing something wrong.”
She sucked in a breath, anger racing through her body. He might not like what she’d been doing, but it hadn’t been “wrong.” “Some women might consider that finding their boyfriend in a strip club definitely qualifies for something wrong.”
“Who the hell said I was your boyfriend?” He bit out.
Her mouth snapped shut. “Keep your voice down,” she whispered.
He stood up. “Tell me, Lia, am I your boyfriend? Because I feel like a boyfriend would have known his girl is a fucking stripper.”
She backed away, eyes wide as visions of him punching Elliott flashed through her mind.
Tyler stopped, his mouth dropped open, his expression one of pure confusion. “Lia . . . I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” she said quietly. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
He took a tentative step forward. “That’s what you thought, wasn’t it?”
She met his eyes. “I watched you beat Elliott up. For absolutely no reason.”
His head jerked back, eyes going wide. Then his eyes softened. “You’re right . . . I . . .” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was so furious, Lia. I’d just seen you with your legs wrapped around a pole. What the hell did you expect? And is there something going on with you and him? He was touching you.”
Along Came Us (Man Enough) Page 16
