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11
EDEN
ZANDER SAW ME mostly naked.
In fact, he was the only person in the world who had seen that much of me.
My own mother hadn’t seen me naked since I was sixteen, yet Zander Hale, owner of Empire Sevens, and also the most intimidating man I had ever met, had walked in and saw me in my bra and panties.
It was my fault.
How the heck did I end up in the men’s locker room?
And why did it look exactly like the women’s locker room?
You would think there would be some defining decoration differences, or at least they wouldn’t be the same freaking colors.
I wasn’t sexist.
I didn’t believe women needed pink rooms and men required blue, but two different colors would be nice.
Any two freaking colors would do.
The strangest part was my reaction to him seeing my nakedness.
Yes, I had covered myself.
It was the reasonable thing to do when someone walked in while you were changing, but instead of pure mortification and panic, I felt something entirely different.
It was the way he looked at me. There was a sense of devastation in his eyes. As if looking at me was shifting his universe somehow.
No one had ever looked me that way.
His eyes had moved over my face before dropping and very slowly and deliberately taking in my body. It was as if every part his eyes touched, his fingertips were caressing, as well.
Goose bumps covered my skin, and I shivered, feeling as though he was somehow making the temperature in the room warmer. My skin flushed. I didn’t need to see myself in the mirror to know I was blushing everywhere. The heat of the blush devoured me like a hot tidal wave.
When he left, I quickly dressed and left the locker room before anyone else saw me naked. Once I was on the floor and starting my shift, I felt much better. Still, I continuously scanned the room, looking for Zander and wondering if he was looking for me.
My new shoes were a godsend, making maneuvering through the tables and the room so much easier. I was proud of myself for not taking Zander’s money, but I had to admit I was shocked he had even offered it.
“It’s about time you got some new shoes, girl. I don’t know how you worked in those things,” Jena said.
She stood next to me at the bar and helped me load my tray with the drinks she had just mixed.
I laughed. “Says the girl wearing the six-inch heels.”
“It’s all for the money, honey. When the big spenders come in and see the illusion of long legs, they tip better.”
I groaned. “Great. So to make more tips, I need to kill my feet one toe at a time?”
“You, Ms. Thing, don’t need to worry about that. Your sweet angel face gives you all the tips. Men would do anything for you if it meant getting a little taste of heaven.”
I blushed to the roots of my hair. “That’s not true,” I insisted.
She picked up the final drink on the bar top and set it on my tray. Before she began to walk away, she said, “I promise you, it is. Tell her, Luke.”
Luke, the bar back I’d met when I first started, had been coming toward us as Jena walked away. She turned, winking at me.
