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“Not my fault you’ve got a muffin butt. It’s squeezable, so I squeezed it.” He shrugged.
I smirked. “Did I complain?”
“Nope. Which is why I kept doing it. Your butt was basically my fidget spinner tonight.” He bit the side of his lip with a grin. “Do any of these events have dancing or food that isn’t bite-sized? Something, anything, other than just walking around and talking to boring people about boring shit?”
“Rarely. But my sister’s wedding should at least be more entertaining.”
“Hold up. Your sister’s wedding?”
“Yes. Emily’s getting married at the end of August. That’s why she had her bachelorette party last week.”
“I wanted to ask about that. Why our club?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why our tiny little club in the middle of buttfuck nowhere? You’re both based out of Seattle, right?”
I nodded. “I also have offices in New York and LA but spend most of my time at my home base.”
“So why Crimson? There’s gotta be a bunch of high-end clubs in Seattle. Why would she pick our club, especially because it looks like my grandma’s basement.”
“Your grandma’s basement has a stage and poles in it?”
He rolled his eyes. I noticed he did that often, but rather than annoy me, I found it oddly cute. “Don’t be a dumbass. I meant the décor. It’s straight out of the nineteen hundreds.”
“Those reasons are exactly why she chose your club.”
“I don’t get it.”
“She wanted the anonymity of being somewhere away from home so she and her friends wouldn’t have to worry about being recognized. And she thought it would be fun to pick somewhere that wasn’t the usual type of place she goes to.”
“So she and her rich friends wanted to slum it with the poor strippers?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to make me feel better about the situation?”
“No. It was to answer your question.”
He gnawed harder into his lip.
“I can see the questions in your eyes,” I observed.
His nostrils flared as he breathed out, and he gave his lip a reprieve from his biting. “Why did you offer me this job?”
“Because I need a—”
“I know why you needed to hire someone. But whyme? Why not an escort or something? Why some random stripper from a club in a town you don’t even live in?” A sudden epiphany rounded his eyes. “It’sbecauseI’m a random stripper from out of town. No chance anyone would recognize me.”
I recoiled a bit. He was smart—smart in a way I wasn’t used to. “That was only a small part of why I did.”
His expression went hopeful.
Jesus, he looked young right then. Between his big blue eyes, luminous smile that always rounded out his cheeks, and that mop of light blond hair, he really did fit his stage name.
“My plan was to hire an escort, but I saw you at the club and…you intrigued me. You’re my type, and I liked watching you.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. He dropped his gaze to the seat between us.
Something about the defeated stoop of his shoulders tugged at my heart. Nick might have behaved like the perfect, mature partner tonight, but he was still young, and right then, vulnerable. Smart, but equally, naïve.
Staying emotionally detached from him was going to be a problem. He was so magnetic, so full of life, and his mind was fascinating. I never knew what was he was going to say next, and tonight, I’d found myself laughing more than I had in months.
