by K. A. Tucker
“Yes,” I finally whisper breathlessly.
“Yes?”
I’m vaguely aware that my head is bobbing. So intense is this high that nothing else matters. I let him gently pull me in. The door clicks closed behind me and he smoothly guides me into his dark apartment with a hand pressed against the small of my back. Down the hall, and into his bed, his sheets cool and crisp and smelling of fabric softener. I sense, rather than see, Trent’s body slide in behind me, pressing up against me from toes to shoulder, never once letting go of my hand. Not once. I snuggle against him, reveling in his warmth.
And in that heavenly peace, I fall asleep.
***
A hissing sound …
Bright lights …
Blood …
I’m gasping.
Slow rhythmic breathing next to me helps regulate my own heart rate as I wake up from my nightmare. At first, I assume it’s Livie, but then I feel my hand wound into someone’s large, hot hand—not Livie’s hand.
I roll my head to see Trent’s perfect form, the peaks and ripples of his chest, his face relaxed and boyish. I could lay here and stare at him forever. I don’t want to let go. Ever.
That’s why I have to.
I slip my hand out carefully and slide from the comfort of Trent’s bed, closing the door softly behind me as I exit his apartment.
***
Livie’s waiting for me in the kitchen, getting breakfast before heading off to school, her eyes wide with worry. “You stayed at Trent’s?” Her tone is half-accusatory, half astonished.
“Nothing happened, Livie.”
“Nothing?” She glares at me. There’s one thing Livie can do well. Glare until you squirm when you’ve lied.
“I held his hand,” I whisper finally. To anyone outside listening in, we’d sound like a bunch of nine year olds. But to Livie, who understands the impact of this, this is huge.
She’s speechless for a moment, sputtering gurgles and half-words. “Is this … do you think this could be something more?” she finally asks.
I shrug indifferently but the heat creep to my cheeks, giving away my excitement.
“You’re blushing!”
I pick up a Cheerio and toss it at her head.
She dodges it deftly, smiling. “I think this could be it. I think Trent could finally bring Kacey back to me.”
I wonder if she’s right. But I just snuck out of his apartment without a note or anything. He might not appreciate that. A twinge of worry jabs me but I supress it. I had no choice. If I had stayed, I know exactly what we’d be doing right now and it isn’t thinking. I need time to think and adjust to this new reality.
I feel Livie’s excitement right down to my bones. For three years, my baby sister has begged me to let go of Billy and move on. The thing is, my issue hasn’t been about moving on from my feelings for Billy. Of course, I cared about him. Did I think he was “the one?” I’ll never know. At sixteen, everyone is “the one.”
No, my issue has been that, because of those last moments with Billy, the very idea of my hands wrapped in someone else’s has plagued me, making my heart stop, my stomach drop, my vision blurry, my muscles spasm, and sweat pour down my back all at once.
Until now.
This is different. This feels … right again.
Chapter Eight
“You look fabulous!” Mia drawls, impersonating her mother and making us all laugh. Storm’s making veal parmesan and I’m modeling my new outfits. I’d exhausted Storm’s closet and needed a few things of my own, so we spent the afternoon at the mall buying clothes. I let Storm coordinate the outfits. I don’t have the first clue how to dress appropriately for a job at a strip club, even after weeks working there. In any case, the ordeal gave me good distraction from Trent.
“I think I’ll wear this tonight,” I announce, coming out in a short emerald green tunic dress that falls off one shoulder and nude heels.
“Good choice! Can you set the table, Kace?” Storm asks as she bends down to check the oven.
“You know you’re going to have to let me cook one day, right?” We’ve spent every night at Storm’s for dinner for weeks.
“I like to cook.”
“Maybe I do too,” I throw back, placing the plates on the table, earning a derisive snort from Livie.
“You’re short one setting,” Storm says with a peek at the table.
I frown. “Uh, no? Four people, four places.”
“We need five,” she says without making eye contact.
“Storm?”
Someone knocks on the door.
“Storm?”
Mia hops to her feet and runs to it, throwing it open with a dramatic bow.
I suck air into my lungs as Trent steps in and I can’t help but gawk. He’s in dark blue jeans again, but he’s wearing a button down white shirt, untucked. I manage to peel my eyes from him long enough to flash a look of “you’re going to pay for this” surprise Storm’s way before turning back to focus on him, all kinds of nervousness and excitement and guilt churning inside me. I don’t know why. Trent and I held hands while watching my friend dance naked. Trent rescued me in the apartment building’s now-infamous snake-attack, and then I jumped him. I spent a night in his bed with him. Eating dinner with him—and my sister and neighbors—hardly qualifies as an intimate encounter that justifies thrashing butterflies. And yet, here I am, ready to pass out.
Mia bows dramatically. “Welcome, kind Sir. Princess Mia has been awaiting your presence.”
Even Mia knew! That little devil.
From behind his back, Trent produces a bunch of five pink roses. He kneels on one knee to present it to her. I hear the collective sigh from all the grown women in the group, including myself.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he says. She clutches the flowers in both her tiny hands, and then gazes at Trent with wide, starry eyes that don’t blink for far too long. Her cheeks flush and I can tell this is the moment where Mia falls in love with him. This tall stranger has just become her life-long prince.
The moment passes rapidly, and then she turns around and runs toward Storm. “Mommy! Mommy! Look what that man gave me!”
Trent winks as he shuts the door behind him, closing the distance to where I’m standing. “You disappeared this morning,” he whispers.
This is so awkward. Thanks, Storm. “I … I know … I’m …” I’m about to say I’m sorry, but he winks.
“It’s okay. I figured it was all a bit too much, too fast.” One finger hooks into mine, buckling my knees with waves of excitement.
I think I’m going to fall in love with this man.
Trent’s gaze drifts over my outfit and I catch the heat in it. Probably the exact same heat as in mine when I look at him. “You look … nice.”
We’re still staring awkwardly at each other, when Livie clears her throat. “Dinner’s ready.”
Storm’s tiny apartment pulses with a warm current as the five of us devour Storm’s cooking. Somehow the snake fiasco comes up and I become the butt of everyone’s jokes. Even Mia joins in, nibbling on my shoulder like a mock- monster. Except she has no front teeth so it’s more like gumming. And through it all, I can’t help but constantly touch Trent’s face with my eyes to find his on mine just as frequently.
By the time dinner is done, and we’re saying our good-byes so Storm and I can head off to work, every fiber of my being craves Trent and I have no interest in pretending otherwise.
***
“Who’s Penny? Clearly someone important.” I gesture to the sign as we pull up in front of the club.
Storm’s fingers tap her steering wheel and her perma-smile falters. “Penny was a really nice girl who met a really bad guy.” She turns to look at me. “Five years ago, Cain ran a club downtown. It was a dive compared to this place. Penny was his star attraction. I hear she brought guys in from all over the state and into Alabama. She started dating this guy, and things got serious. He proposed. Everyone was happy for her. H
e’d come watch her dance sometimes. He’d give her little kisses and hugs throughout the night. Watch over her a bit. You know, really sweet stuff. Of course, he said once they were married, she’d have to quit. She was fine with that.” Storm’s voice turns somber.
“One night, something happened. No one knows what exactly. One second this guy has his arm around Penny, the next, he’s dragging her to the backroom by her throat. Nate couldn’t get there in time. He found her on the ground with a cracked skull.”
I clutch my throat.
“I know. Terrible, right? Cain shut down that place. There was a whole murder investigation. He bought this location and opened under the new name, in honor of her.” We exit the car and head toward the back door. “That’s why the bouncers are so strict about patrons touching the staff. It doesn’t matter if the guy’s your husband. If he touches you, he’s out. More than once, and he’s barred for life.”
“Huh …” My thoughts drift back to last night, when Nate kicked Trent out for holding my hand. I thought he was being an asshole. Now, I want to hug him. Or a part of him, given I’d need a ladder and extendable arms to get around his mammoth size.
I follow Storm’s black-clad form to the door. Just before she knocks, she turns and smiles, like she can read my mind. “They’re genuinely good guys, Kacey. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Cain’s been nothing but amazing with me. He lets me bartend, he set the stage and equipment up for me to do my act once in a while, and that’s all. No rounds, no lap dances, no private stuff. The bouncers collect my tips from my show so I don’t have to crawl around on the ground, collecting it myself. They’ll take care of you. You’ll see.”
***
When Trent shows up at half past eleven and takes a seat at the bar, my brain instantly scatters. The fact that I slept in his bed last night, and had dinner with him earlier doesn’t help me relax around him. I think it’s actually made me more nervous. One … two … three …Ugh! As usual, my mother’s advice doesn’t help.
I stroll over, trying to regulate my heart rate as I take in his beautiful features. They really are beautiful. He could grace the cover of any magazine. And that mouth … I bite my lip, trying not to get all flustered. “Triple scotch on the rocks?” I quirk my brow.
He flashes those disarming dimples at me. “Hold the scotch and add some soda to the rocks, and you’ve got a deal.”
I smile as I throw together his drink, and slide it toward him, our fingertips brushing for a millisecond. With a nervous glance over at Nate, I see his focus elsewhere, and I sigh in relief.
“Don’t worry, I know the rules at these places.”
“Frequent much?” I ask dryly.
He shakes his head with a wry grin. “Standard protocol. Some places are more strict than others, but they’re all the same. I have no interest in getting kicked out again. Once was enough.”
I feel a twinge of guilt over that, knowing it was my fault. Trent’s wink dissolves it instantly. I want to stay and talk to him but there’s a gaggle of customers waiting. I’m forced to leave him with a disappointed shrug. I spend the next hour pouring drinks for customers while my nerves prickle under Trent’s undivided attention.
“Too bad it’s so busy here,” he says when I get back to where he’s sitting.
“Yeah well, some of us have to work to survive,” I quip and I realize I have no clue what he does. I know nothing about him.
“And when are you off next?” he asks casually, sliding a coaster around under his index finger.
“Monday.”
Trent gets to his feet and throws a twenty on the counter. “So you’re free Monday night, say around five?”
“Maybe.”
His grin widens. “Great.” With a wink, he turns around. I watch him leave the bar, frustration that he’s gone weighing me down.
Storm leans in. “What was that about?”
I shrug, the lingering feel of his eyes still on my body. “I’m not sure. I think he just asked me on a date.” A rush of adrenaline bursts through me. That sure as hell better be what he just did or I’m going to lose my shit tomorrow.
Storm gives my shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and I don’t flinch. I smile at her. I smile at the guy across the bar, waiting for his drink. Heck, I even give Nate a goofy wide grin. I’m not sure, but I think I catch the corner of his mouth twitch upward for a second.
***
I feel like a lightning bolt struck me the second I wake up Monday morning. Not because I had another nightmare.
Because I didn’t.
That never happens. In the last four years, that has never happened. I don’t know what to make of it, but I feel … free.
And then I remember that I have a date tonight with Trent. All else is forgotten.
***
“Nice nails,” Livie notices two seconds after stepping through the door. She drops her backpack on the couch, her eyes widening with surprise for just a second. I spread my fingers out in front of me, admiring the black polish. “Where’d you get that done?” Her voice is slightly higher than normal and she’s trying not to make a big deal, I can tell.
But it is a big deal.
Today, I let a complete stranger touch my hands. And I didn’t flinch.
It’s like Trent has broken my curse.
“A spa down the street. They have a two-for-one manicure special on Thursdays. We should go together next time.”
“Uh huh, and what’s the occasion?” Livie strolls toward the cupboard to grab a glass, pacing her steps as if she’s a bridesmaid walking down a church aisle. I want to laugh. She’s trying so hard not to freak out.
“Oh, nothing.” I wait until she tips the Brita to her glass “I’m going out with Trent tonight.”
Her head shoots up to meet me and she misses the cup, spilling water all over the floor. “Like … on a date?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Maybe. I guess you could …”
Livie’s irises flash with delight. “Where are you guys going?”
I shrug. “Probably the beach. Isn’t that what people do on first dates?” I have no idea. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything remotely date-like.
There’s a long pause as Livie’s thoughts wander somewhere, likely trying to process this new Kacey, the one who goes on dates and gets manicures. And cares. “You know, we don’t know much about Trent, do we?” Her head tilts to the side curiously. “What does he do for a living?”
I shrug. “No idea.”
A darkness passes over Livie’s pretty face. I wait patiently for her to bite her lip for all of two seconds before she blurts out, “what if he’s a psychopath who tries to stuff kittens in ATMs?”
“A hot psychopath,” I correct her and she scowls at me. “Come on, Livie. I didn’t get you away from Darla soon enough.”
“Maybe you should find out more about Trent before agreeing to go out with him.”
“I didn’t agree to go out with him.”
“What?” She pauses. “Well then …”
I cut her off. “We know nothing about each other. More importantly, he knows nothing about me. Just the way I like it.”
Her lips press together tightly.
“Oh, Livie, stop acting like the mature one here.”
“Someone needs to.” She stoops to wipe the water with a dish towel. “I’ll be at Storm’s for dinner. Can you at least phone her later to let us know he didn’t stuff you into an ATM? And we need to get cell phones if you’re going to start going out with strange men.”
I chuckle and nod.
She stops and appraises me again with a small smile. “It’s nice to see you like this … again. What time do you think you’ll be home?”
I wink.
“Oh, Kacey.” she mutters, tossing the dish towel into the sink.
***
By the time five rolls around, I’m pacing in my living room like a caged bear, counting to ten under my breath, over and over. Waves of excitement, nervou
sness, and fear chuck my insides back and forth, until I’m sure I’ll toss the contents of my lunch onto the hideous carpet.
Right on cue, a soft knock sounds on the door. I open it to find Trent standing outside in jeans and a blue and white checkered shirt and aviator sunglasses, leaning against the door frame with one arm above his head. My entire body breaks out in a light sweat.
“Nice door,” he says, sliding off his sunglasses. I catch myself staring into those gorgeous blue irises a tad too long before I make a sound.
He’s being playful. I like playful. “Thanks. It’s new. We had to replace it after a crazed maniac busted through.” I smirk, proud of myself for managing that, even in Trent’s intensely hot presence.
He laughs as he reaches in to hook his index finger around mine. Electricity streams through my limbs with that small amount of contact. He pulls me out into the open, into his chest, so that he towers over me, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his face. “I heard about that. Terrible situation. Did they finally catch that madman?” he murmurs, smirking.
I pause to inhale. He smells likes the ocean and the woods. And raw desire. “The last I heard he was lurking around a gentleman’s establishment. Clearly he has deep-seeded issues. I think they’re closing in.” I add breathlessly, “I think they’ll catch him tonight.”
Trent’s head tips back and he laughs. “Maybe they will.” He drapes his arm around my shoulder as he leads me out toward the parking lot. “That color looks incredible on you,” he says, gazing down at my emerald green shirt, . “Compliments your hair nicely.”
“Thanks.” I smile, silently praising myself for buying it today, for the very reason that I know it looks nice against my dark red hair and ivory skin. People think I dye my hair to make it so dark and rich, but I don’t. That’s one way in which I’m lucky, I guess.
Trent leads me to a red and orange Harley in the parking lot. “Have you ever ridden on one of these?” He holds out a helmet. So Trent’s a bike guy. Inspecting the thing, I’m not sure how I feel about that. I think he may have just climbed a few notches in the hot bad boy department.
