They arrived at the club about eleven. Matt paid the cover and followed Brick inside. He’d been to a few strip clubs in his younger days, but he’d never understood the allure, and they sure as hell weren’t his thing now. He’d rather have Vi than any of these women.
Matt and Brick moved through the crowd carefully, not wanting to call attention to themselves. The place was packed on this Friday night. Matt spotted Rush waving to them from across the room. They’d arrived without a minute to spare. Rod was involved in a heated discussion with a big, burly mountain of a man. They were leaning into each other, their mouths moving and entire bodies tight with aggressive anger. A bouncer attempted to talk sense into them. Not happening.
Matt put himself between Rod and the hairy guy, who looked more than willing to take him on, and Brick backed him up. Rush tried to keep Rod under control.
“Hey, bud, let me buy you a drink. Our friend here isn’t worth your bother.” Matt smiled amiably and shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his stance nonthreatening.
“I’ll squash the bastard.” The red-faced man juked to the side, but Brick, being a goalie, had quicker reflexes and cut him off. Matt gestured to Rush to get Rod out of there. Rod resisted at first but the bouncer finally stepped up and grabbed his arm. Together Rush and the bartender started dragging him toward the door.
Rod’s bleary gaze swung toward Matt. “Go with them,” he ordered.
Rod froze as if preparing to argue, but just as suddenly, the bluster drained out of him. With a shrug, he hung his head and shuffled away.
Meanwhile, Brick and Matt had their hands full attempting to keep the guy with questionable DNA from following their teammate and grinding him to dust.
Brick eventually placated him by offering to pick up the tab for him and his buddies. Not only did he take him up on it, but he waved at them to take a seat.
Matt frowned. He didn’t want to stay. He always worried about being photographed in an unsavory place. His ex was a devious woman, and her mother was even worse. Brie might not want the boys, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t raise holy hell if he did anything wrong in her eyes. That big, fat child support check might be looking damn good to her right about now if she was currently single and broke, as he suspected. He was also certain she’d burned through the generous divorce settlement.
Matt turned down the invitation to sit with the guys at the table and grabbed Brick’s arm. “Let’s collect the rest of the crew and get the fuck out of here.”
They sat down at a prime table near the stage where a half dozen teammates were doing tequila shots and ogling the strippers. Matt had his back to the action.
“It’s time to go, boys,” Matt ordered, his patience already worn thin by Rod.
“What the fuck are you? My mother?” asked Gage, their talented but undisciplined rookie. He rolled his eyes and drank beer straight from the pitcher.
“We’re not leaving.” Luke Clark, a married man with kids, glared at Matt.
“Jazz is on stage. No one leaves when Jazz dances. She’s hot as fuck.” Gibs held up his phone to record a video, not caring it was against club rules. “I’m yanking off to this tonight. Unless I can convince Jazz to come home with me.”
“In your wildest dreams, dickwad,” Luke said.
“Holy shit,” Brick said, his eyes glued to the stage. Matt shook his head at his buddy.
“Let’s get out of here.” Matt tugged on his arm. “Amelia will have your balls mounted on the mantel for gawking at another woman.”
Brick scowled and pointed toward the stage where a tatted stripper had just finished her act and was scooping up piles of bills.
Matt did a double take. His entire world ground to a halt, and the next few moments passed in excruciatingly slow motion.
“Vi?” he shouted, much louder than he’d meant to. The dancer looked up, and their gazes met.
The dancer was Vi. He’d know those rose-garden tattoos anywhere. He’d traced them countless times with his fingers, his lips, and his tongue. She heard her name and looked in his direction. The recognition in her eyes turned to stunned shock. She froze, and so did he.
Vi was butt-naked, wearing eight-inch stripper heels, and obviously not an amateur. The Inked Women of Seattle show was known all over the Pacific Northwest, and he’d heard the rave reviews from teammates about the club’s Vegas-style performances.
And Vi appeared to be a headliner in said show. No wonder she worked nights. She wasn’t a bartender or waitress. She was—
Shit.
And something else caught his attention; maybe because his brain couldn’t process her being a stripper, it focused on something more innocuous. Her hair. It wasn’t purple anymore or red or pink. It was a glossy, natural mahogany brown. He stared at her for a long time, mesmerized by how different she looked, yet the same, too. Vi broke eye contact and sprinted off stage, not pausing to pick up the money falling from her hands.
Matt sighed, his attention drawn back to the table of teammates. They gaped at him, mouths open, eyes narrowed incredulously.
“Do you know her?” Gage asked.
Matt ignored him.
Brick grimaced sympathetically and grabbed his arm. “We’d better go.”
The two friends made their way to the exit and stood outside just as Rush and Rod left in a taxi. Matt ran his hands through his hair and searched the parking lot until he found Hermie, illuminated by a streetlight in back. At least she was smart enough to park under a light.
“Can you guys keep the boys tonight?” Matt asked.
Brick’s eyes flashed with concern. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I deserve an explanation.” He fisted his hands, itching to punch something or someone. Why hadn’t she told him? Why did she leave him to find out this way? Why did he even give a shit?
Brick looked as though he wanted to say something but didn’t.
“Go ahead. Spill it.”
“You said yourself you guys were just having sex. Why are you so upset?” Brick leaned back against the concrete wall of the club.
“I’m not.”
“Like hell. Are you pissed she’s getting naked in front of a room of men?”
“No. She lied to me.”
“Lied? Did the subject ever come up?”
“No.” Matt felt like a petulant child. He was pissed, and he wanted to have a right to be pissed.
“Then why should she tell a man who means nothing to her other than a good time what she does for a living?”
Therein lay the crux of the matter. He shouldn’t care, but he did. Damn it. He shouldn’t give a shit what Vi did. They were just having sex. Nothing else.
“Let it go. Don’t be a douche and treat her differently because she makes money as an exotic dancer. This place has a great rep. The girls don’t sleep with the patrons. They put on a show, and that’s it. No sketchy stuff. Not even lap dances. Nothing like that. So she performs nude. We both know Vi is a free spirit, and this would be one way to express herself and make damn good money. I’ve heard dancers can bring in a thousand a night.”
Matt nodded tersely, grinding his teeth together. He didn’t care that Vi made good money. He cared that a club full of men, some of them his teammates, had seen her naked. He didn’t want anyone to see her naked but him. There it was. Completely unreasonable. Stupid. She wasn’t his. And yet he couldn’t squelch how he felt.
“I’ll take what you’ve said into consideration. Regardless, I’m waiting for her. Could you please keep the boys tonight?”
“Yeah, sure.” Brick searched his face and shrugged. He started to walk away but hesitated. He looked over his shoulder at Matt. “You might want to figure out why this is pissing you off so much.”
“I’m not pissed,” Matt growled.
“Yeah, and I don’t like sex.” Brick snorted with laughter and disappeared around the corner of the building. A few seconds later, his car sped by and out of the lot.
Matt waited near Hermie for what seemed like
hours. According to his phone, it’d only been thirty minutes. Vi didn’t text him, and he didn’t text her. Finally, she exited through a back door, bundled in a long, bulky coat that hid her delectable curves. He approved of the coat.
She jumped when he stepped out of the darkness and blocked her path. Her expression slipped from fear and panic to dread.
“Hi,” she said in a deadpan voice.
“Hi. You changed your hair color,” he said stupidly.
“I thought I’d try something normal just to be different.”
“It is different.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I do.” He wondered why she cared. Sure as hell, she hadn’t changed her hair color for him.
“Good.” They were both silent for a while.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She tried to brush by him, but he grabbed her arm and held on a little too tight. She shot him a withering glare, and he released his grip somewhat.
“There’s plenty. For starters, why didn’t you tell me?”
She straightened and held her head high. “You didn’t want to know anything about me. Remember? We’re just screwing, you said.”
“Yeah, but this?”
“This?” Her blue eyes narrowed in anger.
“I—” He was at a loss for words but finally recovered the gift of speech. “A warning would’ve been nice. Half my team was here tonight and saw you naked.”
“I’m not going to apologize. I’m not ashamed of what I do. I’m not ashamed of my body. I enjoy dancing. I make good money. And I’m paying for my college as I go. No student loans. How many broke coeds can claim that?” She propped her hand on her hips and gave him an impressive evil eye.
He shrugged, not sure what he wanted to say or even what his point was.
“This is a job. That’s all. It’s not a career. It’s a stepping-stone to what I really want to do.”
“And what’s that?” he asked softly, finding he was genuinely interested in her answer.
“I want to teach and own a studio. Dancing is my passion, but it’s hard to get a well-paying dance job, especially—” She choked on the last word and didn’t finish her sentence, kicking at a small rock caught in a crack in the pavement.
He’d never known she had a dream like that, which made him feel like a douche. “Especially what?”
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Someone like you would never understand what people like me have to do to survive.”
He was an ass, no doubt about it. “Maybe I don’t, but I’d like to.”
She raised her gaze to meet his, surprise in her eyes, which were luminous from unshed tears. “You’re just saying you do because despite being a tight-ass, you’re a nice guy. I don’t need your sympathy or your pity. You’re appalled I get naked for money. Admit it.”
“Vi, I won’t lie. When I saw you in all your tattooed glory leaving nothing to the imagination in front of my guys, I wanted to kill every one of them, strangle them with my bare hands, and whisk you off the stage and into my bedroom.”
“No surprise there.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if self-conscious. His confident, sassy Vi had gone to ground. She needed to understand, and he was making of mess of his explanation.
“I don’t think any less of you because you strip. I really don’t.” Much to his surprise, he meant it.
“You don’t?” Her beautiful lips parted, she tilted her head and regarded him as if she’d never truly seen him before.
“Fuck no, but I’m struggling with other guys ogling you and seeing what I’d prefer to keep all to myself.”
She relaxed a little, and on a whim, he pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. He held her tight for a long while. The longer they stood there, holding each other, the more he knew he didn’t want to let her go. Not tonight, and not in a month. His deadline was being thrown out the window.
“Matt, what if there’s more?”
He studied her troubled gaze, and his stomach clenched. He’d had enough true confessions for one night. He needed time to adjust to her night job. If he couldn’t get her to quit, he’d have to figure out if he was open-minded enough to accept it, and how negatively it might affect his custody of his children. He couldn’t take another revelation tonight.
“Is there?”
“Isn’t stripping enough?” she said, and he blew out a relieved breath.
“Probably.” He almost smiled. “Even if there were more, I wouldn’t care. The past is the past.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shut her up with a kiss. Not just any kiss, but this one promised more than sex. This one went deeper, and it left him swaying as if he’d been spinning around and was dizzy as hell.
The feeling sank into his bones, his soul, and he shivered from the power of it.
“Matt? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Vi. Let’s go home.”
Clapping sounded behind them, and they both turned to see Matt’s teammates watching them.
Chapter 13—Penalty Kill
Vi rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed. She wrapped Matt’s bathrobe around her and walked to the French doors. Rain pelted the glass, and the sky was an angry gray, promising more of the same all day long. She turned to glance at the clock, which indicated it was 7:00 a.m. on Saturday morning.
Last night seemed like decades ago—a mixture of soul-shattering sex and partially revealed secrets. Only there was more, and Matt had no clue. He said her past wasn’t important, and she so wanted to believe him.
She’d love to pretend none of the bad things ever happened, and if he didn’t care, why should she? Let it go. Live in the moment. Who you were doesn’t matter compared to who you are. Words to live by. Now if only she could live by them and live with herself. She wasn’t nearly as much of a free spirit as she claimed to be, or this shit wouldn’t be troubling her so much. It’d be of no consequence.
She, of all people, needed to let the past go. And she would. No more mention of what once was.
Besides, Matt would’ve had time to process her profession, and he’d be dumping her this morning. She was certain of it. And she couldn’t blame him. What she did wasn’t exactly highly respected, and half his team had seen her dance last night, then caught her with Matt in the parking lot. Knowing conservative Matt, he wouldn’t want his kids to be subjected to the possible fallout.
And there would be fallout if their relationship continued. Even if his teammates kept quiet, NHL player girlfriends were outed and held up for inspection for all to see. She wouldn’t be allowed to fade into the crowd, and neither would he or his kids. The boys would be bullied at school, and she’d hate to be the cause of their misery.
This situation was impossible. One hundred percent impossible. She’d known this fact from the start, but she’d ignored the consequences.
Covers rustled behind her, but she didn’t look back. Instead she braced herself for the inevitable and tried to tell herself she’d had fun while it lasted. Seconds later, Matt wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned against his chest and closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of him. His body was strong and solid, and his breath tickled her ear. She sighed and rubbed his arms.
“I wish you would’ve told me,” he whispered gruffly in her ear.
“Why? So you could dump me sooner?” Bitterness crept into her voice at the unfairness of it all. She was a good person, but society would judge her based on choices she had and hadn’t made.
“Is that what you think? That I’m dumping you?” He actually chuckled. The bastard chuckled.
“Well, ‘dump’ isn’t the right word since we were never a couple, but you get my point.” She turned in his arms to face him. “Brick and Amelia will be dropping off the boys soon. I should be leaving.”
“You don’t need to leave.”
She noticed he still hadn’t responded to the “dumping” question. “You have a game
tonight, and I’ll be working.”
He studied her as if looking for something, but she had no clue what. “Take the night off and bring the boys to my game.”
“Matt, what’s the point? This was over before it started.”
“The point is I want you there. Amelia’s going. You guys can tag along with Macy and her.”
Vi shook her head. “By tonight every guy on your team will know about me.”
“Yeah, they will. So what?” His casual attitude confused her. Maybe he’d been slammed against the boards one too many times lately.
“Aren’t you worried about your ex? If she finds out you’re banging a stripper, she could come after you for custody.” Vi wasn’t clueless. She knew how this worked. Besides, there were worse things in her past than being a stripper. Far worse. But he didn’t want to know about them, and she was happy not to tell him.
“She already is,” he said, his troubled eyes settling on hers.
“Oh, Matt.” Her heart went out to him. Those boys were his everything, and she couldn’t imagine him losing them to a selfish bitch of an ex. “Why? She hasn’t shown any interest in them so far. Why now?”
“She needs money. And unlike most of us, working for a living is beneath her.”
“I see. So if she has the boys, she also gets a big support check?”
“Bingo. She’s even willing to move to Seattle to get it, and I don’t think this town is big enough for both of us.”
“Your custody issues are all the more reason for me to drop out of the picture. I’ll only be a hindrance.”
“No.” He shook his head, his tone unyielding and definite.
“No?” She stared at him incredulously.
He rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. Vi rubbed the points of his tight shoulders, wishing she could ease his pain rather than add to it.
He raised his head and met her gaze. Something indefinable shone in those brown eyes, something thrilling and scary and hopeful. Vi held her breath and waited as hope and despair dug opposing trenches in her heart and hunkered down for a long battle.
“Vi.” He took a lock of her hair and wrapped it around his index finger, studying the strands as if they held the secrets to their universe. Her heart pounded in her chest. Surely he could feel it.
Penalty Play (Seattle Sockeyes Hockey) Page 14