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“Hey, Ludo,” Larkin said when we reached the front of the line in the lobby. He jerked his chin at me. “Taylor Hough. He’s on the list for Holt.”
Ludo chuckled, crossing something off on his clipboard. “Got it. Must’ve given him a good performance last night, eh?”
He shot me a sly smirk. My face turned bright pink.
“What’d he ask for tonight?” Ludo cocked his head, brown eyes trailing over my frame. “Wait, let me guess… sleep-deprived dad at a zoo?”
I sucked in an affronted breath. “I’m not actually a—”
“Yep, that’s the one,” Larkin interrupted brightly, grabbing my arm and tugging me through the door to the stairwell. Once we were alone, he muttered, “Just go along with the stripper thing, okay? No one can know that you’re a… non-stripper.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because it’s just… a thing.” Larkin seemed to think really, really hard for a second, then added, “Holt can’t be seen showing too much preferential treatment, you know?”
“Okay, but why do I have to be a stripper?” I asked doubtfully. “Can’t I just be, like, his friend?”
Larkin side-eyed me as he opened the door to the basement. “You got something against strippers?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, but look at me. I am clearly not one. That guy just said I look like a sleep-deprived dad.”
“Yeah, but maybe Holt’s into sleep-deprived dads. They don’t know. Just stick to the stripper thing, okay?”
I sighed. “Fine.”
“Not that you’ll be talking to anyone,” Larkin added as we made our way down the metal staircase, that thumping music once again reverberating under our feet. “We’ll be in Holt’s private box. It’s pretty nice. There’s usually pretzels in there and stuff. And it has the best view of the ring.”
Now that I was back down here, excitement over getting to watch some flamboyant cosplay wrestling was chasing away my nerves. Plus, I wouldn’t have to feel like a total loser in the middle of the crowd, seeing as we’d be up in Holt’s private box.
Larkin led me down the familiar route to Holt’s office. Seb was standing outside the door, and he gave us both a single nod.
“Larkin. Mr. Hough.”
“T-Taylor’s fine,” I said with a nervous smile. This man had put me to bed last night. He’d taken off my shoes for me and tucked me in. I didn’t think formalities were necessary.
He opened the door and stepped aside. “Go on in.”
The moment we were inside the waiting room attached to Holt’s office, Larkin abandoned me to plug his phone into the charger at his desk.
“Holt,” he yelled, instead of knocking politely on his boss’s door. “Taylor’s here.”
A few seconds later, the door to Holt’s office opened. He stepped out, fiddling with his tie and looking slightly nervous as he smiled at me. I grinned back, trying to be subtle as I drank him in. The body paint, contacts and prosthetics were back. Cosplaying was a kink I’d never known I had, but it was doing it for me. He looked so hot.
He wasn’t in sweats anymore, dressed once again in a nice three-piece suit with a hot pink tie and pocket square. I could tell he’d just sprayed cologne on himself. Or maybe it was perfume—it was kind of floral.
It was nice. Really nice.
“Hi, Taylor.” His voice was husky. He darted a look at Larkin, who was staring down at his phone as if willing it to turn back on.
“Hey.” I felt kind of awkward in front of Larkin too. Weirdly, I was already wishing it was just me and Holt. Even though Holt was the man who knew every embarrassing fact about me.
But that kind of made it… easy. I had no fucks left to give. He already knew the worst bits, so it wasn’t like I could embarrass myself further.
Okay, I could, but it probably wouldn’t get close to the twerking thing or the time I almost knocked myself out while using my dildo in the shower.
Holt cleared his throat. “Lark.”
Larkin didn’t even look up.
