Royal Stripper

by Sienna Valentine

  "He's not my boyfriend! And I'm not impressed." I tossed the offending note onto the counter.

  Candace let her head drop over the back of the couch, studying me. "What's really going on here?" she asked.

  So many things. Worry. Fear. Regret.

  Okay, maybe not a ton of regret.

  It was hard to regret spending time with someone who made me feel so... good. In every way. If nothing else, I'd gotten some amazing sex out of Matthias. I was sure I’d care those memories for the rest of my life.

  But I still wasn't ready to talk to Candace about any of this. I was barely able to stand thinking about it.

  "It's nothing." I smiled. "Just a little misunderstanding."

  She held my gaze a little longer. I could see the disbelief in her eyes, but Candace was never one to pry. She lived from one experience to the next, and only got as close as people encouraged her to. We’d been friends for a long time, but there were still parts of my life she knew nothing about because she never really probed—and I never really offered. In some ways, that was one of the things I liked most about her. She usually left me alone until I wanted her around.

  "Okay," she said after a moment. "But if you need to talk, you'll let me know, right?"

  "Of course."

  I almost expected to walk into work on Wednesday and find the place filled with more balloons or something like that. But, as Wednesdays often were, it was a dull day.

  I was a few pages into a new detective novel when a clunking noise informed me that somebody had just dropped a return down the chute. Happy for something to do, I strode over to the drop area and grabbed the book.

  I noticed right away that somebody had wedged a piece of paper between the pages. I was used to looking out for forgotten bookmarks—or whatever the person had used as one—so it wasn't that strange.

  Except that this "bookmark" wasn't ordinary at all. It was homemade, just a piece of paper cut into a rectangle and then laminated. And it had my name on it.

  Just my name.

  Odd.

  I flipped it over to see if it said anything on the other side. Nothing.

  My confusion was interrupted by another book coming down the chute. I rushed over to grab it, feeling foolish. The person who borrowed that book was probably named Ally as well. Probably nothing more than a coincidence.

  But, lo and behold, this new book had a bookmark in it as well. Instead of my name, though, it simply said "Please".

  Another book tumbled down as I was standing there. Its bookmark said "Call". Right afterward, another book. Another bookmark.

  "Me".

  Ally, please call me.

  Who else but Matthias could be behind this? I was sure if I ran outside right then, I'd see his smug face. If he wasn’t going to leave me alone, why didn't he just come inside and talk to me like a normal person?

  I decided to just go and ask him. Maybe that would finally bring all of these crazy stunts to an end.

  I quickly slapped up a sign that said I'd return shortly, and dashed out the front doors. The return chute was just around the corner, so I didn't need to go far.

  But instead of a smug stripper, all I found was a little boy, probably around eight years old. It looked like he was just sending down his last book.

  "Hey!" I called out.

  When he turned around looking terrified, I immediately plastered on a kind smile. Or as kind as I could muster, anyway.

  "I'm sorry!" he cried. "The man told me I wouldn't get in trouble! I didn't know!"

  "No, no, honey," I cooed. "You're not in trouble."

  I only came running at you like a rabid dog because someone is turning me into a crazy person.

  "Could you tell me who told you to drop these books off?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know his name. They're my books, and I was going to drop them off anyway. The man just asked me to put the bookmarks in them."

  "Was he tall? Dark hair? Kind of greeny-browny eyes?"

  The kid nodded.

  "Okay, thank you for your honesty. You're not in trouble. He was a friend of mine."

  The kid turned and ran. I wondered how much money Matthias had given him.

  Inside, I checked the last books that the kid had put down the slot after I left. No more bookmarks.

  Though I didn't want to admit it, I was a little disappointed.

  "Bookmarks?" Candace snatched the bookmarks out of my hand and waved them in front of her face. "This is adorable. You need to call him."

  "But why won't he just come talk to me?" I asked. "Why do all this instead?"

  "Maybe because you told him not to?" Candace threw herself down on the sofa with enough force for me to hear it crack. She appeared not to notice. "Anyway, this is the most romantic thing I've ever seen a guy do. This is way better than coming to talk to you in person."

  "No it isn't!" I argued. "I would much rather just have a normal conversation."

  My roommate stared interestedly at the bookmarks, as if inspecting the handiwork. Feeling a little territorial, I grabbed them back from her and shoved them in my pocket.

  “Well, then maybe you should tell him that,” she suggested.

  “Well maybe I will.”

  “When?”

  I sniffed. “I don’t know yet. When I feel like it.”

  "So you're just going to leave him to suffer in the meantime?"

  I shot her a flat look. She simply crossed her arms behind her head and returned it.

  "We only saw each other a few days ago. If he wants to pull a bunch of crazy stunts to get me to call him, he's welcome to it. But I need my time, so I'm going to take it."

  "I still don't see the problem," Candace replied. "It's your life though."

  My jaw tensed. I wanted to talk to her about it, but I still wasn’t even sure what I would say. I was scared she would tell me that my fears were overblown and irrational, and just an excuse to run from a good thing. Maybe that was true. Maybe I really was blowing a whole lot of nothing into something.

  But if she was going to tell me just to walk it off, I at least figured I should wait until I was good and ready to hear it.

  22

  Ally

  I figured after two failed attempts, Matthias would stop.

  Whether I wanted him to or not was another story entirely.

  The part of me that lit up like a firework when he touched me secretly hoped that he'd continue with the gestures indefinitely. But that was also the part of me that I’d spent all my life actively suppressing.

  Rationality had gotten me this far, I wasn’t sure I was ready to just abandon it now.

  But by the end of the day, it was looking like he’d given up after all. As it neared closing time without another one of his kooky romantic gestures, I began to fear I may have scared him off indefinitely.

  Which made me realize that I really didn’t want that to happen.

  Not that I knew what it was I really did want to happen. Still, it was ridiculous to assume he’d keep chasing after me forever if I continued to ignore him. So what had been my plan?

  I didn’t have one, which was so unlike me.

  I always had a plan.

  Only this time, I was so out of my element that I had been doing my best to just avoid thinking about it. I wasn't used to these kinds of complications in my life. And Matthias was a complication.

  I spent my whole shift worrying about it, and was no closer to knowing what to do by the time I was ready to leave. I was just about to head over and lock the doors when someone stepped through and made a beeline for the desk.

  "Hello, can I help you?" I asked.

  The man must have been in his forties, with a bristling, dark mustache a heavy-set frame and dark blue eyes. He was wearing a suit, which was unusual for the library.

  "Are you Ally Dylan?" the man asked.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  "Yes, that's me."

  The man's mustache perked up a little. "Good. I've got a song for
ya."

  His voice was rough, like a pack-a-day smoker. I sure hoped he wasn't going to sing.

  "Is it on a CD?"

  He just laughed, then cleared his throat.

  Oh dear. He really is going to sing.

  "You don't need to do that." I shot out a hand toward him. "You can just tell me the message and leave."

  The man eyed me warily. "I'm a sing-o-gram, lady. It's what I do."

  "But you don't need to."

  "I don't sing the song, I don't get paid."

  "Oh, right. Okay then, I guess." I waved him on. "I'll, uh, just hang out here."

  Before I could even prepare myself, I was being treated to one of the raspiest, most tone-deaf renditions of Elton John’s “Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word” that I'd ever heard.

  Scratch that. The raspiest. The most tone deaf.

  The worst.

  I endured it, though. At least the library was empty and no one else had to suffer. When it was over, the man slapped a card down onto the counter and trundled out the way he came without another word.

  Bad singer and rude. How does this guy stay in business?

  I figured the card would have another message on it, saying something along the lines of "call me", but it didn't. It was simply a referral card for ten dollars off “Lyle’s Unconventional Sing-o-Grams”.

  That explained a lot.

  But it wasn't what I'd been expecting.

  At first I was confused, and a little disappointed, that there wasn’t an accompanying message. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that the message was the song choice. I’d been avoiding Matt, and even if he didn’t know why any more than I did, he was probably feeling like he’d done something wrong. This was his weird way of apologizing.

  The whole thing brought a small smile to my face, but I still couldn’t help feeling like I would have rather he just showed up himself to talk to me.

  Candace was getting ready to go out when I got home. I could tell because all her makeup was scattered across the living room coffee table. She emerged from her room as I stepped through the door, clutching a mirror.

  "Hey! How was work? Any new surprises from your favorite stripper?"

  Candace settled down on the floor, crossing her legs beneath her. I never understood why she had to do her makeup in the living room, unless it was just that she couldn’t find a clean enough spot in her own room to sit. She claimed it was because of the lighting.

  "Actually, yeah. Are you on your way out?" I asked. "Or can you talk?"

  "I can talk." While looking at herself in the mirror, she patted the spot on the couch behind her. "Come sit while I do my eyeliner."

  The couch sank down a little more than usual when I sat down, probably from all of the times Candace flung herself onto it.

  "Matt sent me a sing-o-gram." I waited for a response.

  "Really?" She glanced back at me through the mirror. "That seems... odd."

  "More odd than balloons or bookmarks?"

  "Touché."

  I pulled my knees to my chest, something that always made me feel better when I was stressed out. "I wanted to talk to you about why I haven't called him."

  In a flurry of motion, my friend flung herself onto the couch next to me. "Finally!" she groaned. "I've only been waiting for you to spill since... I don't know... the moment you met him!"

  I shoved myself back into the armrest. Candace never understood my need for personal space.

  "This is not juicy gossip," I clarified. "It's serious."

  "I'm listening, I'm listening." She ushered me along with her hands. "I can do serious."

  I knew she could, but it was so rare I got to see it. I worried about Candace a lot. She did everything with a sort of childlike enthusiasm that I knew couldn't last. Not because she would grow out of it, but because someone one day might take advantage of it.

  "Matthias didn't actually do anything, per se," I began. "I've more just been having a tough time understanding my feelings about our... relationship. Though I use that word in a broad sense."

  Candace was nodding along, hazel eyes filled with concern. Why had I not talked to her about this earlier?

  I took a breath and continued. "I really like him, but I'm worried. I've never liked anyone this much before and I'm not sure he's the right guy for me to be pinning all these feelings onto."

  "Why not?"

  "Well, for starters... I mean, he's a stripper."

  "What have you got against strippers?"

  "Nothing against strippers in particular, but you've seen him at work." I ran a hand through my hair, almost as if I could untangle the knots in my head once I'd untangled the ones in my hair. "He's a party guy. He doesn't seem to take anything seriously. What if he doesn't have any aspirations other than to dance his ass off until he no longer has a good ass?"

  Candace's expression grew thoughtful. "That's a good point, although from what I could tell, I'd say his ass is going to stay nice for a long time. Have you gotten a close look at those glutes yet? They’re a work of art."

  Yes, I had seen his ass and a lot more. Just like Candace and everyone else at that party. I tried not to think about that fact.

  "Yes, but even then... What's he going to do after that?"

  "Not everyone has to have a career path that they drew up when they were a kid," Candace scolded. "He probably just loves to party and have fun. Why does it matter so much?"

  Now I remembered why I hadn't wanted to talk to Candace about all of this. But I was in too deep, now and maybe she’d have an angle I hadn’t considered.

  "If he loves stripping, bully for him," I replied. "But can I be with that kind of person? You're probably right—he probably loves having fun and partying, but isn't that worse? I want to get serious with my life. I don't want to be dating a guy who just figures life is one big naked party."

  "That's your problem," Candace said. "You're too serious. Sure, dude takes off his clothes for money. Who hasn't?"

  My eyes widened, but Candace simply turned up the dial on her smile and whipped through to her next point. "But it’s not like you have to marry him, Ally. You've barely known the guy two weeks, he doesn’t have to be your Prince Charming. Who knows what the future will bring. Just for once, think about the here and now. Are you enjoying your time with him? Is being with him fun?"

  "Yes," I grudgingly admitted. "But—"

  "—No buts! No thinking! Just do!"

  She snapped off her last sentence with a tone of finality and rose from the couch. Candace didn't like to linger.

  "There's one more thing," I called after her.

  Candace turned in the hallways, already halfway to her door. I could tell she hadn't counted on her dramatic exit being ruined.

  "I think he's hiding something from me."

  Candace furrowed her brow. "Like what?"

  "I don't know." I shrugged. "I just know that something's not right. He has secrets. Stuff he avoids talking about. Maybe it’s nothing, but I feel like he’s intentionally keeping something important from me. "

  Candace mulled this over for a second, then mirrored my shrug. "Only one way to find out, Ally. Either you give him a chance and find out, or you cut him off forever and never know. But riddle me this: when have you ever had as much fun with a guy as you have with Matthias during these past few days—when you haven't even seen him?"

  Candace left me to chew on that thought. She was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I had enjoyed all of the little gestures he’d made over the last few days. I’d never had a guy spend that much thought or attention to me, even when I wasn’t ignoring them like I’d been doing to Matthias.

  How much fun could I have if I gave him more of a chance?

  Maybe it was time for me to let loose a little bit. Candace was right. Matthias was the perfect opportunity for me to experiment with the wild side.

  It didn’t have to go anywhere.

  It didn’t have to mean anything…

&n
bsp; 23

  Ally

  I'd never seen so many stars. They twinkled like millions of tiny diamonds, each one trying to outshine the other. The silence of the night, so far away from the city, wrapped around us like a cool blanket.

  "This is incredible," I whispered.

  Matthias dropped his head to the side and grinned at me. I could barely see his teeth in the darkness, but I would have known he was there just from his heat alone.

  "I'm glad you like it. Are you warm enough?"

  The fuzzy blanket on top of us was thin, but thick enough for night's temperatures. The sunbaked soil was still expelling the day's heat. I never got cold on nights like this.

  "I'm a little chilly," I lied.

  Matthias laughed, seeing through me instantly, but drawing closer just the same. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me tight against his chest.

  "I didn't know you had a pickup truck," I commented, referencing our current makeshift bed. The air mattress wasn't the most comfortable piece of furniture I'd ever been on, but it could have been a slab of rock and I still would have loved it.

  "Oh, I don't." He chuckled. "I saw the idea on the internet. Would have been harder to pull off without the truck, so I got one."

  "You bought a truck to take me on a date?" Eyes wide, I tried to make out his expression in the dark.

  "Of course not. Do you think I’m made of money?" he replied. "I rented a truck to take you on a date.”

  "You're right," I deadpanned. "That's much less crazy."

  His chest rumbled with laughter. "It seemed like a romantic thing to do."

  "Outfitting the back of a truck with an air mattress and looking at the stars is a romantic thing to do," I agreed. "But generally the people doing it already have a truck. They don't just rent one expressly for that purpose."

  "Boring people, maybe."

  A grin slithered onto my face. "Yes, boring people."

  Not like me. Not today.

  "Do you want to talk about why you've been ignoring me all week?"

  I'd expected such a question, and was only surprised at how long it took for him to bring it up. When I called him yesterday, after talking to Candace, all I'd said was that we would talk about it later, but that I'd appreciated all his gestures.