“What job did you pick?” Silas asked, setting a cold beer on the bar while he finished sorting inventory as Trent and I counted out the last tip jar we’d ever need to put out.
It was the end of our firstnormalshift in weeks—no one on edge, anxiously awaiting their test. With all our bank accounts above six figures, the stress levels were nonexistent. Now, we were just here to party and have a good time; it didn’t matter how much the bar made by the end of the night.
“Following in your wise old footsteps and bartending—for now.” I had no clue what I wanted to do outside of working at Kerosene, so I just picked something easy until a better option came to mind.
“There’s only a six-year age gap between us, kid. I ain’tthatold.”
“And women go for older men anyway, so your twenty-four-year-old ass can take a seat while the buckle bunnies with daddy issues come to us,” Trent added with a bold smirk. “It’s not always about the abs and baby face. Some women wantexperience.”
“Trent, are you fuckin’ around with the clientèle again?” Silas mocked, feigning shock and surprise.
“Only the ones who manage to catch and hold my attention. Can’t blame a guy for having a good time—”
“Alright. I think I’m done with the senior citizen sex talk. Two-thirty-nine.” I slapped the stack of bills in front of Trent as I stood from the bar and adjusted my jeans that had started to sag on my hips.
“Aw, now you’ve gone and scared the poor boy off.” Silas laughed as he leaned forward to rest his forearms on the counter.
“No, I just don’t need to hear about you two sticking your dicks in random holes every other night.”Because that was precisely where this discussion was going.
“First of all, they aren’t random…” Trent corrected with an arched brow and a reminiscing grin. “Most are regulars; and secondly, there ain’t no harm in indulging yourself from time to time. You should try it on for a change, maybe it’ll loosen you up.”
“I’ll… consider it.”Not.
“Take your time. Us,old folks, will continue to enjoy the women of Nashville at your expense.” Silas added, and I rolled my eyes as I took my cut of the tips and turned to leave, giving them both my back.
“Ravish. Reign. Revue, Rhy.” Trent held up his beer with a wink before finishing off what was left.
“Yeah, yeah. To the fucking brotherhood.” I smiled, holding up my own in return before heading into the locker room to grab the rest of my shit.
So this is what it felt like to find a family—brothers.
Can’t say I didn’t like it.
Chapter 6
Dakota
Present Day
Iwasagoodgirl—once upon a time.
Until I realized that women could be just as ruthless as men, taking what they wanted and allowing nothing to get in the way of their success. It was empowering to no longer give a single fuck about what others thought of you.
Unafraid and unapologetic.
Life was too short not to take chances, and after a few years of self-reflection and strong-willed determination, I knew opening a dance studio in the heart of Nashville was exactly what I wanted. And I went for it.
The art of expressed movement can be hauntingly beautiful, telling stories through body language and saying the things we often leave unspoken; the words we sometimes can’t find the courage to speak. It brought me out of a dark place, one filled with sufferingand doubt, guiding me into a new life, thriving with hope and promise.
I established Studio Vix as a sanctuary—an escape for women like me who needed confidence, encouragement, and a form of self-expression that couldn’t be found outside these four walls. And six years later, what started as a simple means of emotional therapy evolved into a staple on Broadway for locals and tourists alike.
When we opened, the primary focus was on stiletto and pole routines, promoting body positivity and the art of losing yourself to the music. Then requests came in for alternative styles like hip-hop, jazz, ballet, and now there was a class for everyone with a heavy emphasis on fun and fitness.
I guess you could say I had it all: a life of complete independence. Well… except for maybe—
“Yee-fucking-haw!” The bell above the double doors chimed just as Tiffany Jean, my wild child little sister, barged into the studio with a beaming smile. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this night to arrive, my sister is finally agreeing to act her fucking age for once.” Boisterous was an understatement for the way she projected her excitement all the way to the back of the room.
“I’m… thirty…” My brows knitted as I pursed my lips at the clear insult, my age always her favorite target for assault.
