by Nashoda Rose
“Why would she do that? Even you don’t look at that stuff. Jolie does,” Ream said.
“I scroll through them,” Crisis argued.
“When?” Ream was the complete opposite of Crisis in that he had dark hair and an intensity about him while Crisis was playful.
Crisis shrugged. “We’ve been busy with this concert and working on the album.”
“I sent an e-mail.” Two weeks ago to the general inquires e-mail. I hadn’t been specific, only that I was an acquaintance of Kite’s from high school and wanted to speak with him. It was a long shot and as I expected, I’d never heard back.
“We should give them a minute,” Sculpt, who I found out, from Trevor’s research on the band, was really Logan, suggested. “Good to see you again, Savvy.” He offered a subtle smile and a nod then headed back in the direction they’d come.
Ream nodded to me too then followed, but Crisis remained leaning against the wall grinning. Until Killian glared at him. “Fine. But I want details.” He looked at me and winked. “Savvy, come back to my place for the party. It’s casual and no need for a fake ID. We’ll let you in.”
I smiled. “Thanks.” But I wasn’t here to go to a party. I was here to get a recommendation for a job. One I wanted and needed.
“Come on,” Killian said, and before I knew what he was doing, he slid his hand in mine and led me down the corridor to a door and tugged me inside. The door shut behind me with a solid thunk, at least it sounded like a thunk, but was probably more like a click. Regardless, my heart leaped at the sound.
And now, I was alone in a room with the guy who kissed me eleven years ago. My first kiss. A kiss I’d compared with every single kiss since.
The light flicked on, and we were in a large office with a mahogany desk, a leather chair, and a silver filing cabinet, but that was about it.
He smirked. “So Ms. Smith, what do I owe the pleasure of this covert operation?”
Killian with a sense of humor was unexpected, and it was hot. I’d only ever known him as an angry teenager with an attitude that had been really scary. He was still scary, but it had lessened somewhat, maybe because I was no longer fifteen. “You’re different.”
His brow rose. “Mmm, it has been eleven years. A lot has happened.”
I laughed then cringed when I heard the obvious nervousness to it. “Yeah, you’re a famous rock star.” Who had a tongue piercing, tattoos and a hot body.
“Does that have something to do with why you’re here?”
“No. But I’m happy for you and the band. You guys are really good and deserve the success.”
“Thanks.” He leaned up against the door, blocking any escape route. “To say I’m shocked to see you is an understatement, Savvy. And that you went to the trouble to illegally gain entry is even more of a surprise coming from you, and I don’t get surprised often.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No.” Not trouble in that I had drug dealers after me or the police. “I wanted to ask a favor.”
“A favor?” I nodded. “Seems to be a lot of trouble for a favor. What do you need?”
“A recommendation.”
His brows rose. “I haven’t seen you in eleven years. I hardly think I’m the person for a recommendation. What’s it for?”
“A job. I applied, but I was wondering if you could put in a good word for me. I know it’s a lot to ask since you haven’t seen me in… well, a long time.”
“Eleven years.”
“Yeah, but I’d never ask if it would look bad on you. If you could ask if he’d take a look at my résumé? Or give me an interview? I’m better in person for this sort of thing, and I understand he is a friend of yours. God, I know it’s a lot to ask and I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t important but—”
“With who?”
“Brett Westhill.”
He remained quiet a minute, eyes drilling into me. I had no idea what was going through his head as his expression was unreadable. I shifted uneasily as I waited for him to say something.
I’d done my research and found out Brett Westhill was friends with the band. According to the articles on Tear Asunder, the band got their start at the bar Avalanche, which Brett had bartended at. Not for the money obviously, as he had more than enough to retire on a hundred times over. Brett said in one article he did it because, “It grounded him.”
Brett opened an exclusive nightclub in Toronto a few months ago. A club that had go-go dancers who were the best paid in the city. The problem was, it was a hot new club and getting a job as a dancer there was slim to none. Especially since my experience dancing was not in a nightclub, but teaching modern dance in a studio.
But Compass was the hottest nightclub in the city and not easy to get into especially as a dancer in one of their cages. Trevor was the one who suggested I apply as he’d heard the tips were the best in the city. I could work there while I waited for the gossip my cheating ex spread about me to die down. Eventually, I hoped to save enough money to start my own dance studio.
When I’d applied, the guy at the door took my résumé but he said I wasn’t the type they were looking for. I knew I wasn’t the hottest chick in the lineup and it didn’t help that I refused to show more skin than clothing when I dropped off my résumé.
“You want to work for Brett?”
“Yes.”
He shoved his drumsticks in his back pocket then cracked the seal of the water bottle. He offered it to me first, but I declined, shaking my head. Then I watched as he chugged it back, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed the cool liquid. How was it possible that an Adam’s apple looked sexy?
I swallowed, trying not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. He placed the cap back on the bottle then met my eyes again. I chewed my bottom lip nervously because despite being fairly confident, Killian had always been intimidating as hell, and as the seconds ticked by, I became more uncomfortable.
God, this was crazy. I shouldn’t be here. There were other nightclubs I could apply to, but Trevor advised me not to work in those as they weren’t safe and a lot of drugs flowed through them. Word was that the girls weren’t treated very well either. Compass had a strict no drug rule. Anyone caught with them, patron or staff, was banned.
The door creaked as he shifted his weight, green eyes watching me and I felt as if I was back in high school unable to move.
“I’m sorry. This was a horrible idea. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Probably. But you’re here now.”
There was a low vibration coming from his pocket, likely his cell, but he ignored it. It stopped then started again. “Do you need to get that?”
“No.”
Oh. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as hell, and I wanted to chug back the water he held in his hand, but I didn’t have the nerve to ask him for a sip.
His phone rang again.
“Someone wants to talk to you pretty bad.”
“Savvy, I’m talking to you at the moment. Whoever is calling can wait.”
There was no quietness about him, and his deep voice sent a wave of shivers through me. I knew who I was coming to see when I’d made the decision. But there was an uncertainty with him. I had difficulty reading him. In high school it was easy because he was always angry, but now… I couldn’t figure him out.
What unhinged me was that even after eleven years, I was still attracted to him. My stomach had drunk butterflies fluttering around, refusing to make a decision on whether to be turned on or frightened or feel just plain stupid for being here.
He pushed away from the door, and his grip on the water bottle must have tightened because the plastic crackled, making me jump. God, I was never this jumpy.
It took him three strides before he was right in front of me, and the smell of soap, sweat, and cologne drifted into me. It was subtle and nice. Really nice. Killian had always smelled good, so it shouldn’t have surprised me. And it didn’t. It was more of an awakening to emotions that we
re better off being buried beneath a load of cement.
“I’ll talk to Brett for you.”
“You will?”
He nodded. “I assume you know something about commercial real estate?”
“Well, no.”
He chuckled, and I nearly fell over because I’d never heard Killian chuckle or laugh, and it was beautiful. And yes, a man’s laugh could be beautiful when it sounded smooth, raspy, and had a perfect rumble to it. “Savvy, I don’t think my vouch for you will do anything if you don’t have experience.”
“I do have experience for the job I want, but it’s not in his office. It’s for his nightclub, Compass.”
For a second he appeared startled as his brows lifted, and then he stiffened and scowled. Any amusement was quickly tucked away. Shit, he looked pissed.
“No,” he said.
“But you just said—”
“You’re not working at Compass.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a nightclub.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He clamped his jaw. “You’re not working at a nightclub.”
“I’ve been dancing since I was six and—”
He jerked. “Dance? You want to fuckin’ dance at Compass?”
“Well, yeah. I’m a dancer. I worked for one of the best modern dancers in the industry.” I’d never be famous like David, but I loved it more than anything. Modern dance was like telling a story. There were no rules to it, just movement to the emotion of the story and the music. Dancing had helped me through the difficult times in my life, and I wasn’t giving up on it. I may be inexperienced at dancing in a nightclub, but I was more than capable.
“Brett isn’t hiring you,” Killian ground out. “And you don’t fit the job description.”
Wow. That made me feel like a bug he’d just stomped on. “You can just say it, Killian. I don’t fit the ‘standard’ appearance of a dancer.”
“Savvy, don’t jump to conclusions. You know I’m not like that.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’m sorry. This was a stupid idea.” I hurried past him and headed for the door.
“Savvy.”
I put my hand on the doorknob to open it when his palm hit the door above my head, clicking it closed again. “Savvy, stop.”
I couldn’t look at him. I knew my cheeks had to be the same color as my bright red curls and I just wanted to escape before he saw how mortified I was.
“It has nothing to do with your looks,” he said quietly. “The exact opposite.”
Before I realized my mistake, I turned to face him. Now, I had my back against the door with his hard, broad chest in front of me and his arm over the top as he dipped his head to peer down at me. Even though there wasn’t a part of him that touched me, it sure as hell felt like it.
“Savvy.” The way he said my name in a low sexy growl…. “I’ll help you in any way I can, but you dancing at Compass can’t happen. Do you need a place to stay for a while?”
“No, I have a place.” It wasn’t the nicest apartment and nothing like the one I’d shared with David in Yorkville, but I had a roof over my head. Although, I wasn’t sure for how much longer as I owed two months’ rent.
“Money?” he asked.
I felt sick to my stomach. Literally, sick. I may be here asking him for a recommendation with the owner of the club, but I had my pride and I’d worked hard my entire life. An array of jobs to pay for dance classes while I moved from foster home to foster home for almost three years.
I didn’t come to Killian because he was famous and had money.
“I don’t want your money.” I yanked on the door. Of course, I was upset and didn’t turn the handle first so it wouldn’t open, and then I panicked and yanked harder.
He sighed, his hand leaving the top of the door so it flung open and I was catapulted back into his chest. His hands instantly settled on my shoulders to steady me, and the pulse between my thighs jolted.
“Savvy, wait.”
I turned to peer over my shoulder at him, and my belly nosedived as his lips were inches away from mine.
“Jesus, you don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find another way to get an interview.”
His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “Compass is off-limits.” I didn’t know why he was so adamant about it, but maybe he didn’t like the club. “And you shouldn’t have come to see me.”
God, I’d never expected him to say that. I thought maybe he’d say he didn’t know Brett well enough to ask him or that he didn’t feel comfortable asking, but to out and out say I couldn’t work there? And that I shouldn’t have come here?
Well, it looked like I was either applying at other clubs or finding another way to get into Compass.
I raised my chin and met his hardened eyes. “I’m sorry I snuck into your concert. Take care, Killian.” And just like that day he kissed me, I rushed off before he could say anything more. But this time, I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder at him as I pushed on the metal bar of the fire exit door.
I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just kept going. I knew before our gazes clashed that his eyes were on me because I had these little heated tingles.
He stood in the doorway, hands gripping the frame above his head with the familiar angry glare. But it was different now, softer. No, not softer, quieter. Controlled.
Killian Kane may fool the media into thinking he was a nice guy, but I wasn’t so sure.
I watched Savvy as she pushed open the fire exit door. The moonlight shimmered off her red curls hanging down the left side of her face before the door shut and she disappeared from sight.
Shit. I slammed my fist into the doorframe.
What the hell was she doing?
Christ, she wanted to dance at Compass. Savvy didn’t belong in a nightclub dancing in front of a bunch of drunk assholes who were thinking about her naked.
No chance in hell was that happening. Not while air still filled my lungs.
It was completely illogical. Insane. And uncalled for, but Savvy Grady couldn’t pop back into my life then expect me to help her get a job at a club dancing. Not only a club, but a club I’d invested in and half-owned. Although, she wouldn’t know that. I was a silent partner for reasons that I didn’t advertise. Not yet anyway.
I ran my hand back and forth over my head then down my face. Fuck, hearing her lyrical voice dripping like honey as she’d said my name was like the wall I’d put up around me splintered and lay at her feet. She barely pronounced the harsh K, so it sounded like ‘Illian. Fuck, I missed that. I missed everything about her—exactly the reason I’d stayed away from her in high school until I didn’t, and that led to a kiss that had screwed with my head for the last eleven years.
I’d thought the piece of Savvy I had inside me had been erased, but a girl like her you couldn’t erase. Just like an addict was always an addict, she was my drug.
I’d watched her for months in high school. The girl who offered a shy smile to everyone. Who helped out the school nurse. Who volunteered at the hospital every Sunday visiting the terminal patients. I’d found out her dad had died there, but I didn’t know from what. I tried to keep myself from her, but my eyes always found her in the hallways. On her walks home. I’d even gone to school early in the mornings so I could watch her through the fuckin’ tiny window in the door of the gymnasium when she’d practice her dancing alone.
And she was a good dancer. Really good. It pissed me off when she’d told me she was just okay on the school steps that day, because she was better than just okay.
I was drawn to her from the beginning, partially because we were the complete opposite. I remember wanting her back then, even just to sit with her and talk, but I was too angry and fucked up to ever have her.
Then I’d kissed her at the cemetery after her mom died. A kiss that sealed her inside me.
I clenched my jaw. Damn it
, I’d warned her never to come near me again.
And now she was here, walking back into my life.
Savvy.
The girl who said everyone had good bits, but it was she who carried them. She simply handed them out to everyone she encountered. Like passing out chocolates, she passed out her good bits to people when they needed it.
Even that piece-of-shit druggie Josh whom she offered a quiet smile of sympathy when I had him up against the lockers.
She’d handed me her good bits, too. There was no choice in whether to hold onto them. Once she gave them to you, they were permanent, like she was.
Her smile. Her touch. The way she cared about people.
And even me. The asshole who never smiled or gave a shit about anyone.
That was a lie. I gave a shit about Savvy, even if I’d tried not to. Her goodness was my fuckin’ drug, drawing me to her.
The truth was, she never left me. I just kept myself from her because I knew exactly what would happen—this. A possessiveness I had no control over, and I controlled everything about my life. I’d never had a girlfriend. Never wanted the attachment. Never wanted something to love and lose. I’d loved and lost the most important person in my life.
It was easier being alone. It was safer.
I chugged back the rest the water then tossed it in the bin.
Jesus, was she crazy wanting to dance at a nightclub? Compass was the safest of all of them, Brett and I made certain of that, but it was still a club, and people drank and became unruly and did things they didn’t normally do.
But Savvy had been stubborn. Shit, she’d come to an underground fight, something that definitely went against her principles. I knew for a fact she’d never been to one of my fights because even if I couldn’t have seen her in the crowd, I’d have felt her.
“Boss?” Luke stopped in front of me. He owned Shield Security, the company we used for our rock band. He’d helped save my life six months earlier when I’d been in a car accident with him and Haven, my band mate Crisis’s wife. “All good?”
Luke was quiet, calm, and vigilant about his job and had become more than just security to all of us. He was a friend.