by Stacey Lewis
I spend almost every night with him, but sometimes, the sulky way Max acts gets to be too much, and I wind up back in my room. One that’s now a single since Becca left. Clay’s never told me exactly what happened between them when he went to the dorms looking for me, but whatever it was, it was enough to make her uncomfortable around him. Uncomfortable to the point that when he started spending a lot of time there with me, she decided to move out. Now she’s living with one of the girls she was telling all the rumors too.
There were still quite a few rumors going around about Clay and me, but, they were more the “will they be engaged before graduation” and “will she end up knocked up before the end of the semester” kind. The answer to both? A big fat no. I’m only a soon-to-be Junior, and unlike Peyton, I’m not ready to plan a wedding. I’m also nowhere near ready for kids. Clay isn’t either, considering he’s still just a big kid himself.
We made it to his graduation with no ring or positive tests, so I think we’ve done pretty well. If someone had told me six months ago I’d sit with Clay’s parents, and mine, watching him walk across the stage as his girlfriend, I would have said they were crazy. His mom is over the moon with her excitement, and his dad’s so proud of his son, his chest is puffed out. The only downer on the day is Max, who still hasn’t forgiven me for hooking up with his brother. It’s sad that someone I once considered my best friend is barely speaking to me, but I’m not going to end things with Clay just to get him back. He’s proven time and time again that what I want or need isn’t his top priority. I’m happy with Clay; hopefully he’ll understand that someday.
When they call his name we all stand and clap for him, even though they told everyone to wait until the last name was called. We’re sitting pretty far from the stage, but I still see him shake his head as he walks across. He knew we were going to act like fools. Linc even cupped his hands around his mouth to yell, “Get it son,” making us all dissolve into laughter. We yell once more when Wyatt crosses the stage, Peyton louder than anyone with her, “Woo-hoo! Go sexy!”
The only person missing today is Emmett, who chose not to walk. This semester, really this whole year, has been hard for him, and by the time they could all register to walk, he was done with school. He hasn’t been around much this semester at all, and while I know Clay is worried about him, he’s been giving him the space he asked for, especially after Emmett moved out of the apartment when we got back from spring break.
“Come on,” Peyton says, tugging my hand. I look up and realize graduation is almost over. The last speech is being given, and then the class will be dismissed. “Kat, let’s go! If we don’t start down now, we’ll have to push our way through the crowd.”
Once I stand, she leads us down the row we’re sitting on, then down the stairs and out of the auditorium to wait for Wyatt and Clay to come out. We aren’t the only ones with this idea, so it takes some time to get through, and once we get outside we don’t have long to wait before the graduates start coming out. Peyton stands on her tip toes trying to see her taller-than-most-people fiancé. “There they are,” she shrieks, bouncing up and down, a huge smile on her face. She starts waving and shouting Wyatt’s name to get his attention, and Clay’s eyes come to rest on me. His grin is lopsided, and his steps quicken.
I ignore Peyton and start pushing my way through people to get to him. As soon as I’m close enough, I reach for him, throwing my arms around his neck, forcing him to take a step back to absorb my weight. Clay’s arms come around my waist, and he lifts, spinning me around in a circle. I cup his cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his and giving him an enthusiastic kiss.
He sets me back down, his arms tightening around me as he kisses me, not caring who’s around to watch. His lips don’t leave mine until a hand claps down on his shoulder. Releasing me, he turns to hug first his dad, then his mom, rolling his eyes at how tightly she hugs him. She’s sobbing against his throat, muttering words I can’t understand, while his dad hugs them both.
“We’re so proud of you, son,” he tells Clay once his mom calms down, though tears still trickle down her cheeks.
Mrs. Mitchell, or Heather as she keeps telling me to call her, hands me the camera that’s been pretty much attached to her face today, asking, “Honey, will you take a picture of us?” I take it from her, and she stands on the one side of Clay, directing his dad to stand on the other. Beaming, they both look at me.
I can tell Clay’s embarrassed by the attention, so I can’t help but goad him. “Smile for the camera, Clay.” He gives me one, but it’s not genuine. He’s gritting his teeth, and it’s totally fake. I lower the camera to glare at him. “A real smile please.”
“Don’t laugh,” his mom leans close to tell him. As soon as she does, he bites down on his lip, trying to hold it in. Her saying that works on all three boys. As soon as she tells them not to laugh, they grin these huge, goofy smiles. It’s awesome. I’ve tried to do it to him, but it seems to only work for her. Poking him in the side, she says, “Don’t do it. Don’t even smile.” One side of his mouth tips up, and she continues, “Oh, there it is … I can see it. You better not!” He can’t hold it in anymore, and shaking his head, he finally smiles. I take three pictures in quick succession before he’s finally able to control it, and she leans up to kiss his cheek. “I love you, baby boy.”
“Mooom,” he groans, closing his eyes. I start to snicker, hiding my grin with my hand, and he opens his eyes back up to glare at me. As soon as his parents release him, he stalks over to me, wrapping one arm around my waist and taking the camera out of my hands with the other. “Here,” he hands it to his mom.
She immediately holds it up to take a picture of us. “Say cheese, you two.”
“Is it over yet?” he complains in a low voice so she can’t hear. I smack him on the chest and shake my head. He sighs heavily but turns us both to face his mom, not releasing the hold he has on my waist. She snaps a few pictures, then directs us to pose with our arms around each other, looking down at each other. Clay looks adorable in his graduation robes, and when I tell him that, he actually blushes. “Don’t get used to it,” he mutters, “I’m never putting these on again.”
Peyton and Wyatt walk over to join us with Wyatt’s mom and sister, who Linc has been staring at all day. I nudge Clay, pointing out his little brother’s lovesick expression, and he drops his head, burying his face in my neck, his body shaking with laughter. “Oh, that’s going to be so much fun in a few years. Wyatt’s going to kill him if he notices.”
Both Wyatt’s mom and Clay’s take more pictures, both of the guys together, then of them with Peyton and me. Finally, pictures are done, and it’s time to go back to Clay’s parent’s for a graduation party. Clay strips out of his robes as soon as we get to his car, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “It’s too damn hot for all this,” he grouses, climbing into the driver’s seat. Once we’re on the road, he grows quiet, and the closer we get to his parents’, the more nervous he appears.
“What’s wrong?” I finally ask him.
He doesn’t look at me or answer at first. I wonder if I should ask again, but just as I start to, he pulls into a parking lot and puts the car in park. His hands squeeze the steering wheel, so hard I worry he might actually do damage, then turns to look at me. “I start working for dad on Monday.” I nod my head, already knowing this, but not sure where he’s going with the conversation. He inhales a deep breath, looking away as if to gather courage, then asks, “Are you moving in with Anna for the summer?”
“Yes,” I answer tentatively. I’m supposed to start moving out of the dorms tomorrow.
Clay swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and the expression on his face changes from nervous to determined. “I want you to move in with me instead.” My eyes widen, and my mouth drops open. I don’t even know what to say. We’ve only been a couple for four months. “C’mon Kat, you’ve been practically living at my apartment for the past two months.”
“Wow,” I breathe, not sure how I can say no to that. My parents won’t be thrilled about me moving in with him. They wouldn’t be thrilled about me moving in with any guy. But, I can see his point. I want to spend as much time with him as I can too. I take a few minutes to consider what he’s asking, though I know it’s driving him crazy to not get an immediate answer.
Clay waits as long as he can, which is not long at all, maybe three or four minutes before he breaks. “Yes or no, Kat. It’s not a hard question.” Ah, there’s the jerk side of Clay I love so much.
“Jeez, give me a minute to think.”
He leans into me, cupping my cheek in his hand. “I tried. Please say yes. If you decide you hate living with me, you can always go back to your sister’s. But think about it … we’ll see each other more, you won’t have to deal with your sister and whatever she’s doing with her boss, and you’ll get regular sex.” He waggles his eyebrows at the last, and I laugh.
“Oh, well, if you’re promising me regular sex, how can I say no?” I’ve already made my decision, but it’s too much fun to tease him. He always said I was easy to rile up, but now, our roles are reversed. It doesn’t take much at all for me to antagonize him. Clay continues to glare at me, so I reach up to press a quick kiss on his mouth. “If it means that much to you …” I pause, and a grin grows on his face. “I guess I can move in.”
This time. he’s the one who laughs. “Gee, thanks. You sound so excited about it.”
I smile up at him, and say, “I am excited. I just like to make you wonder.”
“You definitely do, Kitty Kat, you definitely do.” Using his hands on my cheeks, he pulls me into a much deeper kiss than the one I gave him, his tongue sliding into my mouth to explore, causing both of us to groan. I grip his biceps with my hands and give myself over to his kiss. Kissing him is one of my favorite things to do, and now that I’ll be living with him, I can kiss him whenever I want. Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to explain my new living situation to my parents. Oh well, I’ll worry about that later … when Clay isn’t devouring my mouth.
He's:
Country
Sexy as hell
Forbidden
Music is the only thing I’ve ever been able to count on. I love playing it, singing to it, teaching it. Combining music and kids was a no-brainer - they’re both things I’ve always been good at. So what if I have to work at a less-than-savory location to help pay my tuition.
* * *
I’m so close to getting my degree…until I meet him.
* * *
He's everything a girl could want in a guy and he knows it. A brilliant musician, with the ability to play any instrument he touches. I could watch his long fingers all day long.
She's:
Punk rock
Way too young
Off limits
After one night together, I’m sure I’ve found the kind of girl I write about in songs, but she’s my student. She’s off-limits, and even though I’d do just about anything for one more night, it’s not possible.
She’s doing her best to seduce me…
It just might ruin us both
Preorder your copy or turn the page to read the beginning
One
There are only two mirrors in the back room available for waitresses to use. The other ten are taken up by what has to be a ton of makeup, hair products, and changes of clothes for the dancers. I study myself in the mirror, wrinkling my nose and mentally critiquing the new uniform Rick has us wearing. The corset I’m wearing is pretty, but Lexi pulled it way too tight when we put them on after telling me to “pull tighter” when I helped her with hers. It does push my boobs up so they look bigger than they really are, not that they’re anything to sneeze at. My tits are pretty nice if I do say so myself. I cup them instinctively, turning to the side to view how I look in the getup. The red and black corset, in addition to the tiny pair of black booty shorts that barely cover said booty, fishnet thigh high stockings and heels is the new Guilty Pleasures uniform. One Rick guarantees will get us higher tips. Honestly, I think he’s just trying to entice more of us to get up on stage, because these sure don’t leave much to the imagination. Either that or the slimeball just likes looking at all of us wearing what he tells us to.
I’m just finishing pulling my long black hair up into pigtails, the red tips just hitting my shoulders, when Clarissa comes up beside me. Her blonde hair tumbles down her back in perfect loose curls, almost reaching her waist thanks to the expensive extensions she’s wearing. Her outfit is skimpier than mine, but then, she’s a dancer. It’s her mermaid look, a teal bikini top with “scales” and matching ruffled skirt, if you can really call it that. The front looks like regular white panties because the skirt only wraps about halfway across on each side and barely covers her ass. A pair of teal elbow-length gloves completes the ensemble. With her powder-blue eyes, ski jump nose, cupid’s bow mouth and natural double-d’s, she’s the most popular dancer here.
“Damn girl, you make that new uniform look good. And, bonus, it matches your hair!” Unlike most of the dancers, Clary is nice too. She’s not the type to be phony and act like your friend to your face, only to spread rumors about you behind your back like my friend Kat’s ex-roommate Becca. “You know,” she muses, the smile on her face reaching her eyes, “you’d make way more money if you’d get up on stage.”
My head shakes no immediately and emphatically. “No thanks.” My eyes meet hers in the mirror, and I grin so she knows I’m not mad she’s made the comment…again. It’s an ongoing argument between us. “I’m pretty much the most uncoordinated person you’ll ever meet, so me getting up there would be a disaster waiting to happen. Especially since Rick doesn’t offer worker’s comp.”
Clary laughs, “Rick doesn’t offer anything he doesn’t absolutely have to.” Her smile slips, and her eyes turn serious on mine. “I mean it though. You’re gorgeous, and the guys who come in here always drool over you.” She nudges me with her hip when I look down so I’ll meet her earnest gaze again. “Besides, if you need some help, you know I’ll teach you. We’ll get rid of your clumsy ways in a heartbeat.”
“Thanks.” I wrap an arm around her waist and squeeze. “I’ll think about it.” We both know I won’t, but I do appreciate the offer. Waitressing in a strip club is one thing, but actually taking off all my clothes? Yeah…that’s not a low I’m ever going to stoop to. I’m not looking to be mom two-point-oh.
Having me at sixteen wasn’t a party for her, and she hated that. Until I was seven, I had more “uncles” than I knew what to do with, and not one of them was a decent guy. I’m just lucky one of them beat her so bad she wound up in the hospital when I was twelve. That “uncle” thought my just starting to develop body was more attractive than hers, and I’m not sure if she was more upset that he tried to touch me, or that he wanted me more than he wanted her. Unfortunately, when she was given the ultimatum to either get rid of him or lose me, she picked him and I ended up in foster care. It definitely wasn’t a picnic, but when I was seventeen, after a horrible experience with a foster “dad,” I got placed with Gloria, Annabelle’s grandma, and that was it. I finally had a place I belonged, and I got Belle out of it too.
Finished with our conversation, Clary goes back to checking herself out in the mirror, making sure her teeth don’t have any lipstick on them and her winged eyeliner is equal on both sides. I leave her to her primping and head out to the bar to find out which section I have tonight.
Scott’s stocking the bar when I walk up, and I cringe inside when he turns to look at me, his eyes traveling the length of m
y body before he finally comes back up to meet my eyes. “When are you going to let me show you a good time outside of this place again, Scar?”
Groaning inwardly, and not wanting to piss him off since he’s one of the bartenders that watches out for the waitresses, making sure no one gives us shit. I just don’t want to go there a second time. He and I hooked up my first night working the floor, back when I had to do shots before my shift to get through the night wearing what amounted to a bikini top and skintight pleather—yes pleather—pants. By the time we closed, I was drunk, and he offered me a ride. The ride ended up taking place at his apartment, and while it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t all that memorable either. It also wasn’t like he took advantage. I was drunk and lonely, and he was nice to me. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t blame him for my actions either.
Trying to soften the blow, I stretch to place a quick kiss on his cheek. “You know you can’t handle all this,” I gesture down my body like a game show girl, and wink.
He leans down to speak in my ear so it’s easier to hear his low voice over the music. “I can handle anything you got, babe.” A smirk crosses his face, his eyes heating with lust as they follow the path of my arm. Shaking my head, I can’t stop my own smile as I check the floor map for which section will be mine tonight. I’ve got the area to the left of the stage. I’m still staring down, memorizing which tables in that area are mine, when Scott’s voice startles me. “Watch yourself tonight. There’s a birthday party that just got seated in your section, and they’re already pretty wild.”