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Unease prickles across my shoulders. Fully focused, I sit straighter and examine her demeanor. “I don’t care one way or another. You want to put yourself in the rotation, be my guest.”

Her bottom lip pushes out but then she quickly wipes the disappointment off her face and approaches my desk. Even with the clunky shoes, she seems to glide across the room.

“How are they doing out there?” I ask, pointing my thumb toward the main floor.

She gestures in the other direction, toward the dressing room. “They’re cleaning out the station next to mine.”

“Make sure they’re not stealing anyone’s shit.” Fuck knows we’ve had issues with that before and it was a pain in the ass.

“I warned them.” She stops and leans her hip on the side of my desk, crossing her arms over her chest. “Come on, Dex. Give me some credit.”

“Good.” I tilt my head and study her for another minute. “I appreciate all the stuff you do around here. I hope you know that.”

She stares at me for a few beats. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

Shit, that’s the last thing I expected her to say. “Well, I do.”

She rounds the corner and half-sits on the edge of my desk. The fuck is she doing? With one hand, she gently closes my laptop and pushes it aside.

“It’s still nice to hear,” she says in a lower voice.

Something in the air shifts, tripping all my internal alarms.

I frown at the laptop. “I was working on something, you know.”

She presses her palm against the desk and slowly scoots closer.

I swivel my chair toward her and lift one eyebrow. “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You seem down lately.”

She slides off my desk, her shoes landing with a heavy click against the tile. “Maybe I can cheer you up.” She bumps into my leg hard enough to toss her off-balance and into my lap.

She’s light. Graceful. Did she actually trip, or was it a calculated move? Hard to tell. Either way, the sudden jolt doesn’t hurt physically. In every other way, it scalds.

“Swan.” I speak her name like a warning.

A warning that she ignores. She slips her arm around my neck and leans against my chest.

I pull back as far as I can without hurting her and crane my neck. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“We never took advantage of the privacy of your office,” she says, her warm, minty breath drifting between us.

My skin crawls. This is the exact situation I told Emily she’d never find me in. The same thing I busted Rock’s balls about in front of everyone.

This isn’t like Swan. What the fuck is going on here? My gaze shifts to the door. Did she fucking lock it on her way in? I can’t decide if that’s better or worse. Better that no one will walk in on this scene. Worse, because it means she doesn’t want to be interrupted. And whatever she has planned was premeditated.

“No. We didn’t.” My tone’s gruff. Hard. “And we’re not going to now.”

Christ, her outfit leaves so much exposed skin. Nowhere safe to touch. I rest my hand on her shoulder and gently push.

Not expecting the rejection, she stumbles out of my lap. Graceful as always, she catches herself quickly, bending over to snatch her shoe off the floor and flash her ass at me.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask when she’s finally on the other side of my desk.

Embarrassment spreads over her skin in bright red patches and she won’t look me in the eye. “What’s going on with you?” she fires back.

Has she lost her damn mind?

“I don’t have time for this.” I rest my elbows on the desk and drill her with a hard stare. “Is that why you brought me this project?”

Something about her timing bothers me. She came to me with this idea right after Emily visited the clubhouse. Now this weird seduction thing after she discovered Emily and I aren’t together.

“Was this idea about helping the club or was it to help with whatever the fuck you think you’re doing here?”

She lifts one slim shoulder. Guilt slides over her face, washing away her last trace of confidence. “I really did want to help. And maybe use the stage for practice.”

“Why? You don’t even dance here anymore.”

“I don’t have another place to use.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Her moment of embarrassment seems to be morphing into indignation.

“You’re kidding, right?” I gesture toward the door. “There’s a fucking pole next door at the new clubhouse. There’s one at the clubhouse where you live. And weren’t you trying to talk Wrath into starting a pole fitness class at Furious? He just told me he’s having poles installed over there.”

She scowls at me. “You damn well know if I go next door to use the pole, the guys expect—”

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