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“Didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, though I wasn’t sure if he heard me over the music. I trekked down the hallways, stepping through the solid black door with a silver 2 in the middle.

It was much like Ian’s private room; a sitting area against the wall, a titanium pole on a platform in the center of the room. My palms became damp as I meandered the space, running an apology through my head over and over again.

Stopping next to the stage, I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the worst. There was so much I wanted to say to her. So much pain I needed to erase. I just wanted to scoop her up in my arms, never letting her go.

“Good evening, sir.” A familiar female voice rang through the room, over the lowered volume of the music.

My eyes shot open, and I turned to face her for the first time in months.

“Chance?!”

“You’re over me?” I had an entire speech planned, but it was all I could blurt when I saw her. My heart pounded out of my chest. I struggled to catch my breath. “You’re fucking over me?!”

“Chance. I—” she murmured, forming a triangle over her mouth with her hands, trembling.

“Amber, I-I’m—” Taking a step closer to her, I tried again. My mouth opened, but still, no words came out. Every feeling came flooding back again. The torment from our months apart, the pain was almost unbearable even though I was the cause.

She took a step back, but I was close enough to see the tears welling in her eyes, shimmering in the glow from the dimmed ceiling lights. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re really over me?” I asked a third time, desperate for an answer.

She glanced back at the door, closing it. “I didn’t mean it, but it’s easier to tell myself that because of what you did.”

Sealing the space between our bodies, I yanked her against me. Losing her balance, she fisted my black buttoned shirt. I clutched her arms, stabilizing her. We peered at one another in silence for what felt like an eternity.

“I’m still mad and hurt.” Her voice finally cracked.

“I know.” Nodding, I crushed the inside of my cheek with my teeth.

“I-I have to go.” Sighing, she glanced back over her shoulder at the door.

I pulled her closer against me. “Another guy?”

Snickering, she shook her head. “No, I have to go dance in the Blue Lounge for a party.”

“I’m not done.” I pressed my thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the tears from her perfect, flushed face.

“Paying customers come first when I’m working.” She tried to take a step back. “You know this.”

I tightened my grip on her hips. “Fine. We’lluse our wordsafter your shift.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my wallet. Taking the entire wad of cash from my money clip, I pinned it between my fingers. “Now, dance.”

“Chance.”

“I’m a paying customer now.” An evil grin painted my face as I backed away. “The floor is yours, Miss Wilson. Dance.” Falling back on the sofa, I waved to the room before laying the money next to me on the end table.

* * *

AMBER

Leave it to Chance to swoop in when I decide I’m going to move on. To say I was no longer in love with him would’ve been a lie. I hadn’t healed, and judging by what I knew, he hadn’t either.

Peeking at the clock on the wall, I realized I had seventeen minutes left before I was due in the Lounge. Chance’s posture and demeanor commanded my undivided attention, but I had to be strong until we were able to properly talk about what happened. My thoughts drifted to the hurtful things we both said.

“Why are you being shy now?” He ripped me from my feelings. “Are you forgetting how many times I’ve seen you naked?” Locking his hungry eyes on mine, he smirked. “How many times I’ve been inside you?” He waved his hand at my attire. “Do you need some help taking that off?”

Swallowing slowly, I played the part of the stripper and not his ex-girlfriend. The way he watched me, absorbing my figure, made me weak, regardless of what we’d been through. However, I refused to fall into his manipulative trap. He paid for me to dance, and I would give him exactly that… only that.

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