Not that I blame her.
She knows how I feel about her job, so she’d likely expected the worst from me.
I drop onto the nearest sofa in the entertainment room, exhaling loudly. She must be hurting, because I know she takes pride—to some extent—in what she does. It’s not easy to take insults about something that’s important, and whether I like it or not—that job means something to her.
I let my head fall back as I stare up at the ceiling. I don’t know what the fuck to do. Tonight proves that I can’t handle her career choice. I’m not into sharing, and I can’t look the other way when assholes treat her like she was treated at the bar. How can she be okay with that? I know her family and ex did a number on her, but she knows she’s smarter and a hell of a lot better than they’d thought her to be. She doesn’t need that fucking job to feel in control or accepted. Telling her that though is next to impossible. Ash is all sorts of sexy, adorably awkward, and sweet—but the one thing that stands out the most is her stubbornness.
With a sigh, I run a hand over my face as I wait for Colt. His truck hadn’t been parked out front, so he’s not home yet. He’s likely out drinking and screwing. I just need to blow off some steam and sort out my confusion, and Colt’s my best bet. The guy is cut and dry, non-judgmental, and he won’t look at Ash differently for what she does. He also won’t breathe a word if I ask him to keep his mouth shut.
I’m closer to Gabe, with us being twins and whatnot, but this isn’t something I want to go to him with. I don’t think he’d judge her, but I’m betting he’d assume my relationship with Ash is doomed. Plus, Ash would be furious if I bounced my thoughts off anyone here in the house. If she does happen to find out, Colt’s the least likely to get me in trouble.
It takes Colt another hour to finally come home, and by that time, I’m a sour bastard. I shouldn’t have shut down on Ash like I had in the car, but damn, I’d wanted to kill those bastards. I’ve always had a good grip on my temper, but tonight, I’d experience a kind of fury I’ve never felt before. That fight would have gone on far longer had it not been for the bouncers.
Colt’s footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs, and I wait for him to enter the entertainment room. When he does, his footsteps slow, and then he ambles over to me. “What are you doing down here?” His dark brows furrow as he takes in my lip. “Who hit you?”
“I went after two guys at the bar,” I reply.
His eyebrows lift, because I tend to avoid fighting if it’s not necessary. He sits down on the opposite couch, reeking of alcohol and perfume. “What happened?”
“They insulted Ash,” I say darkly.
“This is about Ashton?” he asks with a frown. “Is this thing you’ve got going for her serious?”
“It could be.”
He looks impressed. “Didn’t think you’d settle down anytime soon. So what’s going on, why were you waiting for me instead of up in her room?”
“You know how she lied about bartending?”
“Yeah.”
“I found out where she works.”
“And?” he asks.
“She’s a stripper.”
“I see,” Colt says as his expression doesn’t flicker.
My eyes narrow as I try to figure out what he’s thinking.
Colt notices. “Christ, you know I’m not like that. I’m thinking more along the lines that I couldn’t handle that. If I had a woman, I’d kill anyone that—” he abruptly shuts up, his expression tightening.
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I say lightly, trying to salvage the conversation. “She was recognized tonight by two dickheads, and the things they said…”
Colt looks at me with a hint of sympathy. “That’s something you’ll have to get used to if you’re serious about her.”
I shake my head. “I can’t, Colt. I won’t ever get used to it.”
“She showing any signs of quitting?” he asks.
“No,” I bite out.
“Then you need to find a way to accept it or coax her into quitting.”
“How the fuck do I do that?”
He shrugs. “Don’t ask me. I never would have gotten in as deep as you are.”
Twenty-five
Ashton
It’s not until close to noon the next day when I happen to notice two messages on my phone. I’d spent most of the late morning doing my laundry and trying to accept that Channing’s likely going to give up on us. Not that I can blame him. There’s still plenty of things that I need to sort out in life, and in reality, I’m just floundering as I struggle being on my own for the first time. The only sure thing in my life is my job and the roof over my head. And even then, there’s no guarantee I’ll still have them six months from now. I could sprain an ankle or something and lose my only source of income. Not that I expect it to happen—but the fact is that it could happen.
After I set the basket of clean laundry on my bed, I pull my phone back out of my pocket. I’d planned on listening to music while the clothes dried, but I’d grown distracted and had cleaned the kitchen instead. Then, when I was about to come upstairs with my newly dried clothes, my phone had chimed with an incoming ad. They pop up on my phone every so often thanks to some of apps that I have downloaded. That’s when I’d noticed I had a text message and voicemail.
I’m certain they’re likely from Channing, and I sit down on the bed before opening the text message. I blink with surprise when I see it’s from Quinn. She wants me to meet her at a restaurant this evening. Actually, it wasn’t a request. Something’s up. Hopefully it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with her.
Next, I listen to my voicemail, and the second I hear Channing’s masculine voice, my heart skips a beat. “Ash, we need to talk. Do you work tonight? If so, I’ll wait up for you.” There’s a long pause as if he’s wanting to say more, but then there’s a quiet ‘click.’
I pull the phone away from my ear and sigh as I stare at it without really seeing it. I do work tonight. Now that Channing wants to talk, I’m not looking forward to going to the club, but I don’t want to give up a night’s wages just so Channing can tell me he doesn’t want to see me anymore. I know that I need to respond to his message, so I simply type, Yes, I work, and press ‘send.’
He’s going to break my heart, but I don’t regret any of it. At least I now know what it feels like when someone’s genuinely interested in me and vice versa.
***
The restaurant Quinn told me to meet her at happens to be a bar and grill, and I relax as I enter the casual atmosphere. After giving the hostess my name, she leads me to a small table not far from the bar.
Quinn’s already sitting there, and I settle into the seat across from hers as the hostess leaves us. “I held off on ordering,” she tells me.
“Thank you, I ate earlier. A drink sounds nice.”
Quinn looks around for our waitress, and when she snags her attention, she orders a small party platter of appetizers. I decide on just water.
After we’re settled and the waitress has come back with our drinks and left again, I look at Quinn. “How can you eat mozzarella sticks, quesadillas, and potato skins without gaining weight? You’re so tiny and slim,” I say enviously.
“High metabolism. At least you have boobs and an ass. I feel like a boy compared to you and Harper.”
“Trust me, you’re not boyish all.”
“Thank you.” Her expression shifts. “I saw Channing’s face this morning.”
I wince. “Is it bad?”
“Not really. He just has a small cut in the corner of this mouth and a bruise. What the hell is going on Ash? When I asked, he completely shut me out.”
I know the time has come to fill her in on everything and hope for the best. I reach for my water and take a much-needed sip before placing it back on the table. “I lied about bartending,” I confess.
She nods. “You tend to keep to yourself, and you’re not big on sharing details. I guess I’m not surprised.
” She looks at me curiously. “Why lie?”
“I’d just moved in, and I didn’t know how everyone would feel about what I was really doing.”
She studies me intently. “So spill. You know I’ll support whatever you’ve chosen to do.”
“I’m stripping, Quinn.”
She doesn’t blink an eye, and instead, slowly nods. “You’ve got moves on the dance floor, so I can see it.” She reaches for her soda, saying nothing more about the topic.
“That’s it?” I ask hesitantly.
“Ash, we’re all consenting adults, and it’s your body. You can do what you want with it. No judgement at all on my end. What did you expect me to say?”
I shrug sheepishly, feeling foolish for worrying over her reaction. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be an issue.”
Quinn breaks into a naughty grin. “You’re ballsier than I thought. I wouldn’t mind a few lap dance lessons.”
“Lessons?” I echo, taken aback by her request.
“Hell, yeah. It’d be fun to learn and great for foreplay,” she says wickedly.
I fully begin to relax. I should have known Quinn would be more interested than put off by it.
Quinn’s earlier amusement fades. “Does your job have anything to do with Channing’s face this morning?”
I nod miserably. “We went back to that bar with the dance floor. He just wanted to take me out dancing, something that he knew I’d enjoy. There were two guys there that I’ve danced for at the club.”
“Oh damn,” Quinn says with a grimace.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Channing went after one of them when he propositioned me in front of him. A fight erupted, and we all got kicked out.”
Quinn’s eyebrows lift. “Channing started it?”
“Yes.”
“This thing between you two is really beginning to progress, isn’t it?”
“Not anymore,” I say with disappointment. “He found out about my job a few weeks back, and he’s been struggling with it. After last night, I think he’s ready to call it quits.”
She looks at me closely. “What do you want?”
“I’m really falling for him, Quinn.”
She reaches for her soda and takes a sip, visibly thinking. “Channing isn’t the settling down type, we both already know that,” she says finally, setting aside her soda. “But it sounds like he’s leaning towards the possibility—especially if he went after those guys last night. Because that isn’t the Channing I know. What’s his reason for disliking your job?”
“He doesn’t want men looking at me and getting that close.”
She gives me a knowing look. “He wants you for himself.”
I nod.
“And he’s told you this?” she prods.
“He has,” I admit.
“I’ve never seen Channing act like this before. Maybe he is ready to be with someone,” she says thoughtfully. “If that’s the case, one of you needs to compromise. Either you find a different job, or he needs to accept what you do.”
I’m about to respond when Quinn’s food arrives, and once we’re alone again, Quinn digs into her meal. She then looks at me expectantly as she finishes chewing. “Would you be willing to find another job?” she asks, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
“I like what I’m doing, and the money is good.”
“There’s a good chance that you’re going to lose him,” she warns.
“I think I already have.”
***
Later that night, I’m quite certain Channing’s waiting for me in my room. I’d packed a change of clothes in my bag this evening, so instead of entering my room wearing just a towel, I have a tank and shorts on.
Channing is indeed waiting for me. He’s standing by the bed—fully dressed. His eyes lock on mine. “Hey,” he greets softly.
I close the door and set the bag down. “Hi,” I say quietly, studying his mouth where there’s a small cut and bruise. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
I remain quiet, waiting to hear what he has to say. I just want this conversation done with, and yet there’s a part of me that’s anxious for it to never end. Once he walks out my door, it’s over.
“I want to make this work, Ash,” he tells me.
It takes a moment for his words to sink in, and I stare at him. “You do?”
He walks closer to me, his eyes softening. “Yeah, I do.”
“But last night…”
He hesitates before holding out a packet of papers that I hadn’t noticed he’d had. “I know you’re a little uncertain about college, but I looked into it anyway. They have tutors for individuals that might need a little extra help. You could easily go to school, Ash.”
Disappointment sweeps through me, and my eyes drop to the papers he’s still holding out to me. I make no move to accept them. He’s trying to change me. A deep ache begins to spread across my chest. My family wanted to change who I was, and Hayden had been just as adept at making me feel like I wasn’t meeting his expectations. All my life, I’ve never felt like I’ve been good enough for anyone.
Now Channing.
My eyes lift, and I stare at him accusingly.
Alarm flashes in his gaze, and he drops the papers to the floor and gently grabs my shoulders, his face now inches from mine. “Hey, I’m just trying to give you options, nothing more.” His expression clouds with regret. “Damn it. I overstepped. I’m sorry,” he says with honest sincerity.
I swallow around my thickening throat and struggle to sort out my thoughts. After a moment, I step away from him so that he has no choice but to drop his hands from my shoulders. I lift my arms, motioning to myself. “This is me, Channing. I’m an exotic dancer who strips for men. It’s who I am and how I’m living my life right now. I’m not ready for options,” I tell him quietly. I continue before he can speak. “Besides, I’d still have to pay for the schooling, and I just don’t have the finances. And before you suggest financial aid, I’d like to remind you of my background. I won’t qualify.”
Channing’s silent as he gazes at me with torn eyes.
I wrap my arms around myself, waiting to see what he’ll say next. I won’t admit that college has its temptations, but it’ll have to wait. It’s going to take a while to save for my future, and right now, I’m focusing on saving all my extra cash in case of an emergency. I’m making a decent income, and it’s the only reason I have a roof over my head. I can’t just quit because Channing doesn’t like it.
His eyes are intent as he gazes at me. “I would never try to change who you are, but I don’t know how to accept your job. It’s killing me knowing what you’re doing,” he says in a thick voice.
I look away, no longer able to look at him. I’ve been bracing myself all day for this conversation, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
I hear him sigh, and then he’s pulling me into his arms, holding me tightly. My arms immediately wrap around his waist, and I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head. “It’s too late tonight to be figuring this out,” he murmurs.
I’m amazed that this isn’t goodbye, and I press my cheek against his heart. “We can talk more tomorrow,” I agree softly.
“Do you work?” he asks, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek.
I’d planned to, but I won’t tell him that. I shake my head instead.
“I’ll be home around nine-thirty.”
Twenty-six
Ashton
I’m feeling nervous as I wait for Channing to come home the following night. The money is too good at the club for quitting to be an option, so my plan is for him to see that my dancing is just a job. Lap dancing is the only time I’m physically close to a customer, and tonight, I’m going to show him the difference between my job, and what we have.
There’s also a chance that this could completely backfire, but I’m hoping it won’t. I look around Channing’s room. The lamp is on, giving the room a soft, intimate glow. His desk chair i
s in the middle of the room, and I have his stereo system ready to go.
I draw in a deep breath and exhale as I check my costume once more. I’d bought it specifically for tonight, because I don’t want to wear any of the club’s costumes when I’m with him. This is for Channing, not for anyone else.
I think I hear him in the hall, and I mentally shake off any jitters and prepare for the show I’m about to give him.
The door opens, and Channing freezes in the doorway when he sees me. Slowly, he closes the door behind him, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe. I’m wearing a black, lace see-through bra, matching panties with a black garter, and sheer black stockings. I’d even chosen to wear the spiked black high heels that I prefer at the club.
“I thought an experiment might help put things in perspective,” I explain.
He walks closer, his eyes lingering on my breasts. “I like experiments, he says, willingly playing along.
“Good.” I point at the chair. “Sit down.”
He walks to the chair and takes a seat.
After turning on the stereo, I move in front of him. “This is my job at the club. No touching,” I warn as Nine Inch Nails begins to play. I’d chosen ‘Closer’ because it’s the kind of song I’d dance to at the club.
Channing nods, and his eyes linger on my panties where he can see the apex of my thighs through the see-through material. I begin to dance in front of him, moving my body to the throbbing beat. I’ve learned that building the moment before a lap dance increases the anticipation for the customer.
I give Channing my back, arching it and sinuously moving my body in fluid movements. I slink my way backwards and straddle his lap with my back to him. My hands grasp his knees, and I hold them in place as I grind my body temptingly close to his crotch, but without touching. This position is one of my favorites, because the customer can’t spread his legs, which would make the dance more intimate.
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