by Baylin Crow
Damon was well aware of the fucked-up situation I'd created by having a benefits-only situation with a coworker. Couldn't even call it friends with benefits at the time. Maybe that's why it had sounded like a convenient arrangement, but that giant mistake had been over for several months. Aiden somehow continued to miss the memo I'd given him several times.
"I assumed he wouldn't, or you wouldn't have invited me," I deadpanned.
Damon chuckled. "He'll get over you and your magic dick eventually." He arched a brow. "So… you coming or what?"
Archer's face filled my thoughts, and I scrubbed my hand over my jaw. Was it too soon to be completely wrapped up in him? Probably. "Yeah," I decided. "I'll at least swing by."
"Don't sound so excited," he drawled with thick sarcasm. "I'm out of here, so just head over when you get off."
He ambled off just as Desi, our manager, marched straight toward me at a quick clip. With long black hair flowing behind her, sharp features and wearing a black pantsuit, her bright green eyes found mine. "Change of plans, Nix. We need you in VIP."
My lips firmed into a tight smile as my jaw clenched. "You got it. Headed there in a minute."
With the exception of one unexpected auburn-haired birthday boy, I hated working VIP. The men upstairs could be a little handsy, despite the rules. Unlike being on stage where I was untouchable, except to allow them to slip cash under my armband, the small rooms didn't provide enough distance between me and my audience.
Desi shot me a grateful smile before she rushed by and approached another dancer.
Irritated, I grabbed the bottle of oil from my locker and rubbed it over my skin, lifting my necklace to cover my entire chest, before reapplying the glow-in-the-dark body paint. Then I made my way to the second floor where I found a group of businessmen dressed in suits and ties.
For the next half hour, I danced to the provocative music that filtered into the room. Hungry gazes ate up every move, and as one of the men booked a private room, I reminded myself it was just a job. One that I hadn't minded so much a few weeks ago. But now, as I gestured for him to take a seat on the couch, I longed to sit beneath the stars with nothing more than a pencil, paper and words that leaked from my heart. Preferably, with Archer at my side.
I was so fucked.
Avenged Sevenfold blared from my speakers as I pulled up to the curb in front of the small stucco home Damon shared with his roommate. I turned the volume down and quickly scanned the area.
His place sat in the center of a quiet street on the outskirts of the city. The familiar neighborhood was full of run-down homes that had seen their better days in the seventies, much like mine. That's where the similarities ended.
Lit by a full moon, the yard next door was littered with children’s toys, and a rusted truck sat abandoned in the exposed backyard with tall grass growing up along its frame.
Damon's yard, while free from toys, was neglected too with tangled weeds more prominent than grass. His freshly waxed red sports car was oddly out of place parked in the driveway.
Grabbing my phone from the cup holder, I checked for missed calls or texts. Not surprised but still disappointed Archer hadn't reached out, I switched off the car and climbed out, stuffing my phone in my pocket.
As I walked up the cracked pathway to Damon's house, I kicked an empty soda can aside and climbed the steps. Tools, a cooler, several pairs of sneakers and other items cluttered the creaky porch.
When I knocked, the door squeaked open and I let myself in. The sound of laughter and a loud curse, nearly drowned out by heavy rap music, came from the back of the house. Having been there before, I crossed the worn carpet to the garage converted into a game room and found several guys I recognized from the club, girls who regularly hung out with Damon and Jonah, and a few unfamiliar faces. I puffed out a relieved breath when I spotted Emma already sucking face with one of my coworkers. The game table covered in cards and beer cans was surrounded with people clearly well on their way to drunken stupidity.
As I searched the garage, my eyes stung from the haze of cigarette smoke clouding the room.
The loud clack of pool balls grabbed my attention, and I found Damon lining up to take a shot. Just as he went to strike, I stepped inside the dim lit room.
"Hey, dicks!" I yelled over the music and then grinned when Damon missed his shot and narrowed his eyes at me.
"You made it." He moved aside to let the other guy play.
I waved at some of the people I knew and made my way over to Damon. "Said I'd be here, didn't I?"
He handed me his cue, or rather shoved it at my chest, and I grabbed it before it fell.
"Wasn't sure you'd show anyway." He tilted his head to the blond at the other end of the table. "You remember…" His brow furrowed, and I glanced at the guy as he smoothly sank a striped ball before flicking his gaze between me and Damon.
He tucked a curl of his hair behind one ear. "Kellan, but I don't think we've met."
"Yeah, Kellan." Damon smirked. "You take my place. I'm done playing anyway. Relax and I'll grab you a beer."
Asshole. I glared at the back of Damon's head, knowing he was trying to set me up with a little entertainment for the night. He didn't know about Archer, so I couldn't completely fault him. It wasn't that I was keeping him a secret, but I honestly didn't know what to tell anyone.
Did I have a friend who I couldn't keep my hands off of and out of my thoughts? Or was it more? My ego wasn't big enough to assume Archer wanted more from me than to fuck him, but I wasn’t satisfied with the thought of only casual sex between us either, I realized. I liked Archer. A lot.
Under Kellan's interested gaze, I rubbed the back of my neck. I was definitely going to need that beer. Luckily, Damon returned quickly, and I downed the beer before crushing the can.
Damon raised a brow. "You can get the next one on your own. I need to go show these boys how to play poker."
He walked away, leaving me with Kellan again.
"Bad day?" He chuckled and gave the crumpled can a pointed look.
"Just thirsty," I lied as he lined up his cue. I took the opportunity to scan his features.
Medium height, lanky, sky blue eyes, pale skin and wheat-colored hair that curled up under his black, backward hat—he wasn't hard on the eyes. His light coloring clashed with his all black clothing—loose shorts paired with a Three Days Grace t-shirt.
Two weeks ago, I might have been interested, but I found myself comparing him to Archer. Okay, I had it bad for my complicated little muse. I just hated that I couldn't tap into his quirky, creative mind to get a solid read on how he saw our...relationship?
Kellan sunk another striped ball, leaving me to assume I was solids. He straightened, and his lids grew heavy as he studied me. "You're staring hard enough to give a guy the wrong impression…unless you'd like to take this in the other room."
"No, it's not that. I was just thinking about…" I trailed off, unwilling to share anything personal with a guy I didn't know who was clearly down for some fun in the sheets. "Be right back. I'm gonna grab another beer. Want one?"
He frowned, but after a beat, bopped his head. "Sure."
Tempted to bail on the party, I instead turned to find the trash and tossed the can away before popping open the busted-up refrigerator. I snagged two cans, and on my way back, I caught Damon still smirking at me again over his hand of cards. I flipped him off and made my way back to Kellan at the pool table.
I popped the tab on my beer as I examined the table to see Kellan had sunk yet another ball. Counting, I saw I still had five and he was down to three. After I took a healthy swallow, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and watched as he scratched on the next try.
"Damn," he muttered and took the beer I held out for him. "Thanks."
Though I wasn’t an expert, I wasn't completely terrible at pool and knew exactly which one I wanted to go for. Setting my beer on a chair, I leaned down and aimed my cue, hindered slightly by my rings.
"Wai
t," he said and a whiff of his spicy cologne hit my nose as he sidled up next to me. Pausing, I glanced up. "Let's make this more interesting."
"Yeah?" I raised a brow. "What did you have in mind?"
He tipped his head toward the table where it appeared a game of strip poker had been started, as one of the guys made a show of tugging his shirt over his head to the tune of whistles and catcalls.
"Each scratch or miss," Kellan continued, "an article comes off. Yeah?"
I gave him a blank look. "You know you can just visit the club for the same show, but better, right?"
"Don't be a buzzkill. We playing or what?" He gave me his best seductive smile and my cock took zero notice. Fucking zero. Archer didn't even try and…
"Listen, I don't want to lead you on. I told Damon I'd swing by, but..." I set my cue on the green velvet top and took a step aside to create some distance between us. It was officially time to cut out. "I'm sorry. I think I better just go."
Kellan backed up further, leveling me with a contemplative look. "You don't need to apologize. Did I come on too strong?"
I scrubbed my hand over my face and shook my head. "No, it's not that…" I just have a thing for my cute-as-shit neighbor, and he may or may not be into more than just my cock. But anyway, I'm hopelessly addicted to him, and he gave me back my music. Yeah, some things were best unshared.
His lips tugged into a grin. "It's about a guy, huh?"
My silence was all I offered and he laughed. "Sounds like you have some shit to work out."
Accurate. "Yeah, maybe."
"Well, I wish I could offer some advice, but I've been hung up on a man I can't have pretty much my whole life." Kellan let out a self-deprecating chuckle as he took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair before slipping it back on. "It's not like I'm waiting." He gave me an obviously look. "But you can't help who you want." He shrugged. "Not that I'm comparing our situations, since I have no idea what's going on with you…"
"Different situation, but I can understand why that would be rough." I leaned my hip against the pool table and folded my arms over my chest. "So why can't you have him? He's not into you?"
"I think I've told you enough, considering you aren't sharing anything with me."
My lips kicked up. "Fair enough."
"We can just finish our game if you want. I promise not to hit on you." His blue eyes lit with amusement and I chuckled.
"I think I'm just going to head out." If anything came out of showing up at Damon's, it was that Kellan was right. I did have shit to work out and questions for Arch. I needed to know where he stood on this rapidly changing thing between us.
Kellan grabbed the cues and loaded them on the rack. "You're going to go hunt the poor guy down now, aren't you?"
I straightened and nodded. "The poor guy is driving me crazy, so yeah, I'm going to at least try to get some answers."
"Well, good luck." He winked. "You sound like you may need it."
Wasn't that the fucking truth. "We'll see."
As I turned to leave, Kellan called out my name, and I paused.
"I can't swear I won't still come to the club." His lips twitched. "I recently heard there's a good show there."
Shaking my head, I gave him a half-salute. "Later, blondie."
I spotted Damon on my way out. Half-naked, he slammed a card down on the table and tossed a smug look at the man who sat across from him as he blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke. As I passed, his gaze flicked up to mine. "You're leaving already?"
"Yeah. Got something I need to do."
"See ya tomorrow then." He glanced back down at his cards as he tapped his cigarette on the lip of the overflowing ashtray.
Outside, I met a wall of hot air and climbed in my car. Cranking up the engine, I turned the AC up while I searched through my playlist, landing on “Little One” by Highly Suspect.
The clock read two in the morning as I pulled out onto the street and headed home. Archer was probably already asleep, so I'd likely have to wait until the next night.
The smooth acceleration of my car as it purred down the road accompanied the words in my head, louder than the ones through my speakers. Not only did I have questions, I knew if I asked for more from him, I had to be willing to give. I needed to tell Archer about Nashville and the notebook. About my mom.
'Word blind and hollow,
I became a void filled with dust.
Rooted in place,
My dreams turned to rust.’
8
Archer
The breeze brushed through my hair that was still damp from the shower as I sat in the cheap plastic chair I'd found in the garage and carried up to the balcony earlier that day. Leaves rustled in the large oak trees, and the scent of lush greenery filled the air.
With the light above my door turned on, I skimmed over the page I'd just finished illustrating.
An enormous ship rocked in the waves of the deep sea. The pirates banded together, weapons drawn, as the sirens came in droves, climbing up the weathered wood planks. Deep gouged lines were left behind where their claws dug into the splintering wood. When news reached the siren queen's ears that many of her kin had been captured and were detained in chained tanks aboard the ship, she'd gathered her army and set off to not only rescue them, but leave a trail of carnage in her wake. The revenge plot was heavy on both sides, and the expressions on both the sirens’ and pirates’ faces were etched with pure hate.
The story was quickly approaching the climax, and I huffed in frustration. It wasn't often I got worked up, but there was something off with the storyline, or maybe it was that I still hadn't decided what came next. Months of work stared back at me, and I refused to turn the page to a blank sheet when I had no idea where the story was going.
A flashback to another story that sat unfinished in a box somewhere, or maybe the trash for all I knew, interrupted my thoughts.
My mother once saw a book I had started, years ago. She'd showed it to my stepdad. He'd already made it abundantly clear that he disapproved of me, simply because I wasn’t his biological child. The twisted circus theme had only fueled his decision to send me to a college out of state. A request I'd happily agreed to. I never saw them anymore. Rarely talked to them. Didn't want to.
I sighed and tapped my colored pencil against the page, weighing the possible outcomes. My gaze drifted to Phoenix's house, unlit, and wondered if he'd be off work and home soon. Things had been off between us too, and that was probably my fault. But I'd taken what CJ and Caleb had said to heart. I wanted to be sure I had no issue with Phoenix stripping. The truth was that, no, I wouldn't like it if we became more serious. But then I realized if things were to progress and we dated, it would be because I already trusted him. So, liking it was a moot point.
There was another thing that had been niggling at my brain. He hadn't tried anything else with me other than kissing—a lot. And when I'd try to tempt him to go further, he'd pull back.
Before I could obsess over it as I’d done many times, the smooth sound of an engine approached, and though I couldn't see his driveway from where I sat, I saw the swing of headlights over the mowed grass as Phoenix pulled in and the engine cut off.
Only a few minutes passed before I heard the swish of his patio door sliding open and found myself staring down at him, half blended with the shadows. With an unlit cigarette between his lips, the moonlight glinted off his rings as he raised the lighter, pausing halfway in the air when his eyes caught mine. He tossed both onto the glass table and stepped out onto the lawn.
"Hey." I gave him a tentative smile.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and tilted his head. "I thought you'd be asleep. What are you doing up so late?"
"I don't even know what time it is." I shrugged. "This book." I frowned down at the page before looking back to Phoenix. "I don't know what happens next."
He chewed on his lip and then started forward. "I'm coming up," he warned just before he scaled the f
ence and then pulled himself over the railing, landing on light feet.
My jaw dropped at how easy it had been for him.
He grinned down at me. "Want me to take a look?"
Over the last week he had been my sounding board to my frustrations, and we had bounced ideas off each other. But I was just over it for the night.
"I've been working on it for hours." I sighed and closed the book. "I think I need a break from it. Be right back."
I stood and quickly carried it inside to put on my desk and then went back outside where I found Phoenix sitting on the concrete with his back against the wall and legs drawn up with his elbows lazily braced on his knees.
Ignoring the chair, I slid down next to him and sat cross-legged. He tilted his head back against the wall and stared up at the sky.
My brow furrowed and my stomach fluttered with anxiety, wondering if this was it. Where we parted ways. "What's wrong?"
He blew out a deep breath before rolling his head to the side and paused, just staring at me. "Things between us have been weird, right? Or am I just making that up?"
He was only echoing my earlier musings, but still, the flutter worsened. "Yeah, they have."
"Why?" His hazel eyes glittered in the dark. "Did I do something?"
Thrown off slightly, I quickly shook my head. "No…it was me. My…friends, CJ and Caleb." I sighed, and my shoulders hunched as I curled forward. "I told them about you, and they asked if I was okay with you being a stripper—because of the guys, you know."
Phoenix closed his eyes, and his forehead bunched. "I didn't even think about that being an issue. I don't really…date."
I waved the comment away. "No, it's just that I thought they had a point when they said I needed to be sure. I told them it was a little premature, but I couldn't get it out of my head," I admitted.
He picked at invisible lint on his jeans, avoiding looking at me. "And? What's the verdict?"
