AllFreeNovel
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I crack an eye open.
Micah tilts his head. “Do you have a place to stay?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’ll figure something out.” Sitting back, I clutch the end of the bar and look around, taking in the wide, empty, dimly lit club. “I’ve got my car and—”
“You can’t sleep in a car.”
“It’s nothin—”
“You’re not sleeping in a fucking car,” he says, surprisingly stern. As if he’s known me for more than just a few minutes. It’s…strange, but nice. It’s when people act wary of me, like they don’t know how to take me, that makes me uncomfortable. And the more uncomfortable I am, the harder it is to mask and try to act like everybody else.
Turning my attention back to him, I say, “I can’t exactly afford another hotel room.”
“Then stay with us.”
“Us?”
He nods. “Zel and I. We have an apartment a couple blocks away. There’s a spare room. It’s unfurnished right now, but we have an air mattress we can set up.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I just told you, I don’t have any mo—”
He waves me off. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I’m not sponging off you,” I whisper.
“Then you’ll get a job. Hell, you can work here.”
I frown. “As a bartender?”
“No, as a stripper,” he deadpans.
I blink. “But I’m a guy.”
He coughs a laugh. Shaking his head, he says, “Yeah, and so are half the dancers here. We’re all about the variety here.” He smirks like he knows something I don’t.
“I can’t dance.”
“Dude, I was fucking with you.”
“Oh.”
Chuckling, he says, “You’re adorable.”
My cheeks flush, and that just makes him smile wider.
“Seriously, though,” he says after a moment. “Our servers come and go like dust in the wind. We’re always looking for help on weekends.” He pauses, tipping his head. “The uniform is a little skimpy, but you definitely have the body for it.”
Again, my cheeks betray me. Gritting my teeth, I nod.I can do this. Why not? It’s better than working the front desk of a garage, pretending to know how cars work, and dealing with super macho men who treat me like shit.
“Well don’t look so excited,” he says, cutting into my thoughts.
“It’s just temporary,” I mutter. “A few weeks. Month tops.”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
