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Reaching into my back pocket, I grab the cash I stuffed in there before leaving the house and fling it at him.It flutters around him, ones and tens, fives and twenties, drifting to the ground at his feet.
“All those times when you asked me whether I’m naughty or nice?”My lip curls into a sneer as I look down at him.“I should’ve been the one asking you.Because you, Jonesy, are definitely not nice.”
Then I turn and walk off the stage.This time when I tell myself I’m not coming back, I mean it.
Twenty-Two
Jonesy
Ihave no idea what kind of reception I’m going to get when I pull up outside Liv’s place around midnight.I definitely don’t expect her to open the front door and watch me walk up the sidewalk.
She doesn’t greet me or even wait for me to make it onto the porch.She just turns and goes back inside, leaving the door open so the light from inside spills into the night.
I enter cautiously and find her curled in a corner of the couch, an untouched glass of wine on the table in front of her.She’s in leggings and a frayed, faded sweatshirt with streaks of yellow paint on it, her hair in a lopsided braid and fuzzy socks on her feet.It’s the sloppiest, least pulled together I’ve ever seen her.
She’s perfect.
“Do you want something to drink?”Her tone is flat, and she directs her question to a spot just over my left shoulder.
“Water.I’ll get it.”
She nods and says nothing as I hang up my coat and move around CJ’s kitchen, finding a glass, filling it, draining it in a few long swallows, and filling it again.I rushed here as soon as humanly possible, stopping only to towel off the sweat and body oil, throw on the first pieces of clothing my fingers touched, and grab the CuddlePuff from Nick’s office.Then I basically ran every red light to make it to her house.
And now here I am, exhausted, dehydrated, and terrified about what I’ve lost.The only thing keeping my heart pumping in my chest is the knowledge that she was expecting me, and she let me in.I take a seat on the couch opposite her, and for a long moment, we just stare at each other.The only sound in the house is the hum of the refrigerator.
“You left this.”I set her D-backs hat on the coffee table next to her wineglass.All the cash she chucked at me is stuffed inside.
She wraps her arms more tightly around her midsection and makes no move to grab it.“Thanks.”
“So I take it you’re not really sick.”
Her mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile.“Nope.”
“Well, that’s good.”I have no idea if CJ’s here and am almost scared to ask.I assume if she was, she’d have run me through with a katana by now.“When did you find out?”
“The staff party.”
Ah.“The handstand?”
“The handstand.”
“That’s what I get for showing off.”
She rearranges her legs, shifting so the left one’s curled under the right.“Well?Do you want to make your excuses now?”
Obviously.I burn with the need to explain and apologize and beg her forgiveness.But she heard the main gist of my arguments onstage and probably had enough time on the drive back from the club to think through them.
I tell her something different instead.
“Women sometimes treat me differently after they find out about the stripping.”I have her attention, that’s for sure.She wasn’t expecting this.“When I’m onstage, I get that I’m an object.I love it.That’s the point.But when I’m in someone’s bed…”
I wet my lips, bracing myself to share something I’ve never really talked about before, not even with Deke or Gabe.
“It’s kind of shitty to know that you’re going to be somebody’s outrageous story as soon as she showers off your night together.Did I ever tell you about that time I fucked a stripper?Best sex of my life.It’s happened to me before, and it sucks.And the thought of you treating me differently if you knew… it killed me.”
My gaze flicks to her, and I see a flash of guilt cross her face before her lips tighten.“That’s no excuse for not telling me.”
“Of course it’s not.The only excuse I have for that is my own ignorance and trying to spare you from pain.And neither of those are good enough reasons to not tell you either.”
