Page 48 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
She nodded and cut me a glance. “Okay. Because I can’t keep up this pace.”
I nodded, feeling bad. “I know.” The last several years had all been on Chelsey. Ever since she started here when she turned eighteen.
“I promise, Chels. It’ll work out. I’ll finish college and get a good job. It will be all right.”
It had to. Because I couldn’t do this again.
Hunter
I MOVED AWAY from the front of the building and the crush of people all waiting to get inside. Too much testosterone, and I’d definitely gotten a big enough dose of that tonight.
My face ached like a motherfucker where I took the hit. I walked alongside the building, waiting for Cody and Barrett, wondering how long it would take Cody to find Barrett in whatever back room he’d disappeared into for a lap dance.
I turned the edge of the building and leaned against the wall, letting my head drop back against the brick a little too hard. Like I needed more pain. My cheek throbbed. I touched it lightly, testing the tender flesh. I’d probably have a nice bruise there tomorrow if I didn’t already.
A car approached from the back parking lot. I vaguely registered the crunch of tires and the purr of the engine.
It was the voice that grabbed me. Low and smoky, it crashed through me and had my head popping up. I hadn’t heard her voice before but I knew it belonged to her.
“You okay?”
It was her. Only with less make-up. And with her hair falling loose over her shoulders. And not in the cat suit.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Fine.”
She nodded, looking at me through the passenger’s open window. She turned and stared straight ahead for a moment. Her slim fingers stretched and flexed over the steering wheel. I studied her profile in the shadows. She looked a lot
younger with her face scrubbed clean.
She looked back at me. “My name’s Brooke.” Her voice quavered a little bit, giving her away. She was nervous. Which would be an odd thing for someone to be who took her clothes off for a living, but I already knew that she was no ordinary stripper.
“Hunter.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry you got kicked out. You were just trying to help. I’ll talk with the manager. Maybe get you some VIP seats next time, waive the door—”
I shook my head. “I’m not coming back here. I didn’t want to come to begin with.”
“Why did you then?” she shot back, and I thought I heard censure in her voice. She obviously doubted me. Not that I blamed her. A girl as pretty as she was probably heard lines all the time. In and out of the club.
I shrugged and decided to go for the truth. “Because I was stupid.”
I thought she blinked. I wasn’t sure in the shadows, but she shifted behind the steering wheel . . . seeming less guarded. Maybe she believed me.
“Yeah. Well, you’re not the first stupid guy to walk through those doors. We get a few.”
“Just a few?” She was funny. I grinned, and then winced. The action hurt my face.
“Yeah, well I’m just guessing about that. It was my first night.”
As I suspected. “Then I guess we have something in common. It was my first time, too.”
She stared across the distance at me. “You’ve never been to a strip club?”
I shook my head. She probably thought I was bullshitting her.
“How old are you?” As if my age somehow could prove or disprove my allegation.
“Twenty-two.”
