“We’ve been on a few dates whenever he’s in town. It’s hard to track him down sometimes, what with his busy schedule.”
Before I have a chance to correct her that we’ve only been out once, Mason speaks up. “That’s right. You’re a stripper. How’d you even get into that?”
Emma spits water onto the table, covering her face as a coughing fit takes over. I want to reach over and console her, but Mason does it for me, patting her on the back like a loving boyfriend. His hand lingers there even after she stops and says she’s okay.
I want to chop his hand right off like my mom chops vegetables—smooth and quick.
Instead, I give him a forced smile. “I needed the cash back in college, and Naked Heat was the perfect solution. Even so, I’m glad I joined. The group has been my family for eight years now. And all the attention from the ladies, night after night, well, that doesn’t hurt, either.” I wink at Emma’s reddening face, but it’s not a blush.
Her glare is murderous.
Worse than when I hijacked her date.
“I need to freshen up a little. There’s still a tickle in the back of my throat.” Before Emma stands, she kicks my shin underneath the table, then scoots her chair back. “Oops. Did I get you?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, and before I can offer one anyway, Tarryn also announces she’s going to the ladies’ room. But I barely hear her. My focus remains on Emma’s swaying hips disappearing down the hall, avoiding the waiters scurrying around with large trays of tacos, chips, and salsa.
And I’m left alone with Mason, the one guy who has what I want.
But not for long.
CHAPTER 14
Emma
I push the door open and rush to the sink to dab water on my face, my whole body heated from anger, annoyance, and a third feeling I don’t care to admit.
All because of Ty.
It’s because of Ty I’m flustered and blubbering like an idiot.
All I wanted was a casual night of fun with a guy and no strings attached. No pressure. And no potential to break me.
But it’s turned into a sick game, one for which I don’t know the rules. What’s Ty’s angle? Why did he insist on coming?
And why does his crooked grin make my insides flutter?
“So, you and Ty,” Tarryn interrupts my thoughts, leaning up to the mirror to blend in her lipstick. It’s mauve, a bold choice for a low-key dinner. “How long were you two fucking?”
I step back like she slapped me. “Excuse me?”
“You two were obviously together.”
“No, not obviously. We’ve never been, nor will we ever be, together.” I cross my arms, still waiting for her to look at me and not the mirror. No matter how long she tries to blend her lipstick, it still won’t complement her orange complexion from all the fake tanning lotions.
“Well, at least part of that statement is true.” She finally twists the cap back on her lipstick and turns to me with her gaze narrowed. “You won’t be together, not on my watch. He’s too yummy to pass up, and I plan on taking a lot more bites out of that fine piece of ass.”
She snickers and walks away, leaving me alone with my reflection in the mirror and echoes of her statement.
More.
As in, she’s already had a taste and is taking more.
I’ve known Ty was a player since we met, but picturing him now, with Tarryn, it feels wrong. Like I’ve been betrayed.
Again.
Even though Ty’s not mine.
Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I stare at myself in the mirror, muttering, “Pull yourself together. You’re better than this. You don’t cry for anyone anymore, especially not a motherfu—”
A gentle knock on the door sounds, then a soft, “Em?”
Ty.
I take one last deep breath and whip the door open with my chin held high. Rushing out, I don’t stop to acknowledge Ty until he grips my arm and pulls me back.
“Don’t manhandle me.”
“What did she say to you?”
My disloyal lips quiver, and his gaze darts right to them like they shook the ground beneath us. “Nothing. She said nothing of importance, not to me, anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you have the right to do whatever and whomever you please. Don’t worry about me being in your way.” I speak the words firmly. They’re true, after all. He has every right to sleep with Tarryn, her sister, and anyone else if he so chooses.
He’s not mine, I repeat to myself.
His eyes soften, pain flashing across them as he watches my shoulders slump, that rare darkness appearing there. I’ve come to notice how he usually covers it up with all his jokes.
But he doesn’t hold back now.
No smirk or winks or jokes.
He smooths my hair back, running his hand down my ponytail, my breathing slowing as he leans in. “I want you to be. In my way.” My eyes flutter as his voice drops, his warm body so close to me, sending heat to my very core like we’re in a sauna. “Don’t go home with him.”
“What?” I shake my head slowly, trying to think through this fog surrounding me every time Ty gets close. “I already told you I’m not sleeping with you. You have Tarryn, anyway.”
He squints at me, like he’s trying to communicate through his gaze something I should know but don’t. When he speaks up again, he doesn’t mention her. “I don’t want to sleep with you—”
“Good.”
“—until you’re ready. You’re not ready.” He fists my hair, pulling it down a fraction from my high ponytail. Then, he leans in so close that his lips brush against my neck before he audibly inhales.
“Umm…” My words are lost, swirling in the air around us as the tip of his nose grazes my jawline.
He pulls back enough to meet my gaze with an intensity I’ve never seen on anyone before. He watches me like he sees me underneath all this mascara, and his expression softens, his eyes pleading. “Let me take you home. I won’t even get out of the car, but please don’t go with him.”
“Is there a problem here?” Mason appears from around the corner, and I jump out of Ty’s grip.
I clear my throat and take another large step back. Pulling my ponytail tight again, I scramble to form words. “Not at all. Just that I’m starving, so I hope the food’s out.” I walk to our table without looking back, and I avoid Ty’s eyes the rest of the evening, especially when he tries to play footsie with me under the table like we’re in high school.
I ignore him. His winks, his laugh, his eyes—those ice-blue eyes.
I ignore all of it, especially when he gets sour cream on the corner of his mouth from his taco and Tarryn uses her thumb to wipe it off, then holds his bicep like it’s her newborn and can’t hold its own head up.
And he lets her. He lets her touch him when she talks, when anyone talks.
I’m so caught up in their touches I almost don’t notice when Mason rests his hand on my knee. It’s not possessive or firm. If anything, it’s gentle. Nice, even.
But it doesn’t do anything for me.
No butterflies or shivers like the ones Ty gives me.
I gaze at Ty as he takes a sloppy bite of taco, the contents falling out of the other end. I should be disgusted like I was every time Brant ate burgers.
But I’m not.
Quite the opposite. I want to be the one licking sour cream from his mouth.
I’m not disgusted by Ty because I’m lusting after him. Raw, animalistic lust for the man sitting across from me.
The one I want to punch in the face but also throw myself at.
But I tell him otherwise in order to protect myself.
Ty was right before. I’m not ready for these feelings or this attraction or what it would do to me if and when it went south.
With a deep breath, I know what I have to do.
CHAPTER 15
Ty
I stall getting the check paid,
sensing Emma needs more time. She’s been silent since we came back from the bathroom. No reaction from her when I tried touching her under the table. No reaction even when the staff sang happy birthday to the guy next to us. They put a sombrero on him and shoved whipped cream in his face, and Emma didn’t even flinch.
Mason turns to her once the server returns our cards. “Ready?”
“Yeah, but rain check on the movie, maybe?”
My stomach flips in excitement that she doesn’t want to spend time with him anymore, but also in apprehension that it’s me she wants to get away from.
She hasn’t looked at me once.
“Of course. I know you’ve had a long week.”
I narrow my gaze at him and his thoughtful consideration. Jackass.
I open my mouth to say something when Tarryn’s hand falls from my bicep to my lap. She whispers loudly enough for the table to hear, “I’m ready to have you all to myself, anyway.”
I turn my gag into a cough and smile, gently pulling her hand off my dick and into mine. She’s not doing anything others haven’t done in the past. In my profession, I see it all. Women literally throw themselves at me. One chipped a tooth trying to get to me after a show. She was hot too, before all the blood running down her chin turned her into a vampire.
“Actually, I have an early flight out in the morning. Have to be in Kansas City by tomorrow afternoon for a show.” I turn to Emma, eyes pleading, not caring if Mason or Tarryn or this whole restaurant sees how desperate I am. I can’t go to bed thinking about the two of them laughing, touching, creating more inside jokes. “And I have to drop off a couple things for Sebastian at your place, so why don’t you just ride back with me?”
She eyes me curiously, ready to call my bluff I’m sure, but Mason intervenes. “It’s no problem. I can take her home.”
She gives him a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’d like that.”
My heart crumbles with those three words. Because I know she doesn’t really want to. And when she turns her angry gaze toward me, I know it’s only to get back at me.
I toss my hands up. “See you two there, then!”
If ever I saw fumes coming out of a person like a cartoon character, now would be it. Emma’s ears are about to release smoke.
Once we reach her apartment, I pat my belly in Emma’s living room while Mason lingers in the doorway. “I had a great time. We should try the sushi place down the street next time.”
Emma rolls her eyes at me and nudges Mason outside, away from view, but I’m not above observing from the peephole. Which is what I do.
“Dude…” Sebastian says, shutting the refrigerator door behind me. The girls’ apartment is small, and the living room, kitchen, and entryway are all the same room. “What’re you doing? Why are you even here?”
“I need to give you your hat back.”
“Okay, where is it?”
“Yeah, the red one.”
“I don’t see a hat, red or otherwise.” He claps me on the back, surprising me. “You’re on the verge of crossing a very firm line, brother. Back up.”
I turn to him, shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t see anything, anyway. They moved—” The door opens and slams into me, rocking me backward.
“What the hell are you doing?” Emma asks, then turns to Sebastian. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I was standing back.”
“I, on the other hand, in case you’re wondering, am not okay.” I rub the side of my head. “You like hurting me, don’t you?” I ask right before she stomps on my foot as she walks by. “Ow!”
She mumbles something to herself, then pulls a bottle of wine from the cupboard and a wineglass.
Kendall emerges from her bedroom with a towel around her head and droplets of water on her T-shirt. “What did I miss?”
“Just Emma here, not getting any good night action.” I nudge her with my shoulder, but she quietly sips her wine. I whisper to her, “Maybe next time you’ll go with the real man of the two.”
She spits her wine back into her glass, choking on my words like they’re glass shards. “I’m going to bed. Enough excitement, or lack thereof apparently, for one night.” She directs the last part to me, but she doesn’t seem mad or angry anymore. She looks flustered and… sad.
Her usually strong posture falls slack as she shuffles to her bedroom with the wine bottle, foregoing the glass altogether.
My chest aches more and more with every sad step she takes.
“What did you do?” Sebastian accuses me.
I hold my hands up and continue staring at her closed door. “What? I said I had a nice time and would like to do it again.”
“Wait. What’re you talking about?” Kendall asks, crossing her arms, studying me like she just recognized me. “Why are you even here?”
“The four of us had dinner.”
“You went on their date?” Her large T-shirt falls off one shoulder as her arms dramatically fall.
“It was a double date. I went with Tarryn.”
“Tarryn the Terror?”
“Is she part of a show I’m not aware of?”
“God, Ty, what were you thinking? Tarryn hates Emma, and she isn’t shy about showing it. Don’t you know anything?” Amidst her scolding me like I’m ten, something crosses her features. A slump that reaches her whole body as she focuses on Emma’s door.
“It’s not that bad. I thought they could hang out, get to know each other, and maybe—God forbid—they could work it out. I’m the hero in this story.”
Sebastian scratches his head, and Kendall whips back toward me, her frown irritating me. “You have no idea what tonight meant to her.” With that, she kisses Sebastian on the cheek and slowly opens Emma’s door.
I can’t hear anything but Kendall’s words echoing in my head.
I smack Sebastian’s arm. “Mason? Emma was excited to go out with that douchebag? What is he, like eleven years old? Jesus.”
“Man, I’m staying out of this. But I will say, there’s more to Emma than you think. Go easy on her.” He shrugs, passing me on his way to the kitchen. “Beer?”
“No, I think I’ll go back to your place and watch National Geographic until I pass out.”
“Seriously?” He shuts the refrigerator, holding up an unopened beer. “No club tonight? No passing out underneath a pile of strippers? Not even one beer?”
“Okay, you’re making me sound like a Neanderthal.”
His brows pinch together as he takes a sip.
The fact he thinks I’m an animal irritates me further, as though all I am is a drinking, sex machine.
But on my way to his empty apartment, as I get closer and closer, my stomach sinks, thinking Sebastian’s right. I cut the engine to my car, running my hands over the steering wheel, and lean my head back with my eyes closed.
If I stay still, I can sometimes hear her laughter. I can feel her presence in this car.
But my heart breaks when I open my eyes and realize it’s over.
For years, I’ve drowned myself in tequila and women, begging God to let me forget. To allow me the elusive luxury of the peace I’ve been searching for since I was fifteen.
Since the worst day of my life.
Since I last saw my sister.
CHAPTER 16
Emma
“I just wanted a simple evening with a nice, quiet date,” I tell Kendall before I drink straight from the wine bottle. “My first date in two years. How pathetic am I?”
“Hey, watch how you speak about my best friend.”
I smile into the bottle.
“I can’t believe Ty brought fucking Tarryn.”
“You should’ve seen the way she hung all over him, like we were at a porno convention or something. I wanted to scream, ‘Keep your hands to yourself, you nympho.’” I roll my eyes and settle back against my headboard, my feet dangling off the side of the bed.
I haven’t changed yet, and my wedges are giving me grief. As I roll over,
careful not to touch my bed with my shoes, Ty’s words from earlier replay in my head.
He said I wasn’t ready, and I know why. There are many reasons, although one has been particularly difficult for me to admit.
The one thing that has me stuck in the past.
“Brant texted me,” I whisper, halfway hoping she doesn’t hear me. Petrified that Kendall will track him down and kick him in the balls—although he’d deserve it. “Several weeks ago, after we saw him at the club.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right…”
I exhale, leaning up to get comfortable. We may have an all-nighter, and there’s not enough wine. I take another sip, then pass the bottle to Kendall. “I didn’t answer back.”
She takes a sip of wine, then chugs before handing it back to me. “What did the motherfucker have to say?” Her voice trembles in anger, in my honor.
“Look, it’s fine—”
She cuts me off by placing her hand on mine. Her large eyes are apologetic and angry for me. Angry that Brant had the nerve to resurface after what he did to me. “Talk to me, Emma. You’re not fine. You’ve been moodier than usual, and I wish we’d had this conversation weeks ago.”
I pull a decorative pillow onto my lap, turning the side with “Good Vibes Only” to face her. Then I wrap my arms around it, not in the mood for this talk or night.
Or Ty’s stupid name popping up on my phone screen.
My fingers itch to check his message, to see what the jackass could possibly have to say after ruining this night for me, the end of my no-dating streak. “I haven’t had a first date, period, in almost four years.” Tears well in my eyes, and I refuse to let them fall.
I am strong.
Confident.
And worthy.
“The last first date I went on was with Brant, remember? He took me to a bar to watch the Cowboys game.”
“Yes, how could I forget how romantic he was.” She cringes.
“I would’ve been pissed,” I say, peering out the window, reminiscing on one of the best nights of my life. “He didn’t ask me before we went, and I hate football. But I didn’t say anything, just enjoyed my buffalo chicken salad and his knee gently touching mine as he moved around.”
Let Loose for Me Page 7
