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I haven’t given any thought to what it would mean to be seen with Conner in public. And I don’t plan to think about it at all for the time being. “Let’s not get nuts here. No one is clipping any leashes in place.”
“Whatever you say.” She laughs in her maddening way and her heels clop down the hall.
Fiona doesn’t get to see my scowl but it falls off anyway when my eyes land on the sofa where I napped in Conner’s lap while he stroked my hair. A delicious clash of feelings is partly made of sex and partly made of something more intricate. That part can grudgingly admit that when I’m with him the heavy burdens weighing down my soul feel a little lighter.
Back in the club, I’ve missed nothing. Cardi B belts out her finest, the girls on stage are performing their hearts out and Fiona delivers a tray of drinks to a full table.
Bruce nods to me when I take an empty seat at the bar. He starts to pour my usual whiskey sour but I shake my head. “Just give me a soda. No cherries for fuck’s sake.”
He snorts and makes it happen in ten seconds. Anyone looking too closely might notice how I keep shifting my eyes to the door but I don’t have to wait long for Conner’s return. And because he’s Conner and he likes making an entrance, he doesn’t just have one pizza. No, he balances no less than ten cardboard boxes in his hands.
He gives a pizza to Andrei. He gives one to Bruce. He hands one to Fiona. Then he drops the remaining boxes on the bar. “Are the dancers allowed to eat?”
“They’re allowed to do anything they want.” I jump to my feet and collect three boxes. “I’ll bring some to the dressing room.”
The big smile on my face feels foreign. I haven’t smiled as much in the last decade as I have in the past few days. Conner does shit like buy pizzas for a roomful of people he doesn’t know. His only motive is because he’s a good guy. I don’t run into many of those.
The girls are happy with their pizzas. When I return to the bar Conner has stolen my seat and happily chews on three slices mashed together on top of each other. He pats his knee, clearly expecting me to deposit my ass on it. Instead, I drag an unoccupied stool over.
He sets the remains of his pizza tower down on a napkin and selects a new slice. “Open up.”
I try to snatch the pizza away. “I learned how to feed myself awhile back.”
But he holds the slice just out of reach. His eyes flare with fresh intensity, the same kind I glimpsed at his front door when I warned him to make good on his threat the next time he found me.
And now he’s found me.
With two fingers, Conner reaches underneath the metal lip of the barstool and yanks it close enough for our knees to touch.
“Let me tame you just a little bit, angry girl.”
A pleasant sensation fizzes in my belly. Good old fashioned butterflies.
“You can try, quarterback.”
Then I open my mouth and give in.
Chapter14
Haven
Conner must be trying to win a medal for good behavior. He fed me pizza, hung around without a word of complaint until closing, then good-naturedly waited for me to lock up. I did not protest when he kept his hand on the small of my back for the short walk to my apartment building.
Now he leans against the wall beside my door and watches as I turn the key in the lock. “How long have you lived here?”
“Six years.” I shove the door open. “My father owns the building but I get a portion of the rent proceeds because most of the tenants were referred here and vetted by me. Mostly employees from the club. It’s not a castle but I do my best to make sure it’s not a slum either.”
Technically my apartment is a one bedroom unit but a wall was knocked out ages ago to open up the space. I can’t stand clutter and I don’t bother with decorating so there’s not much to see as Conner stands in the middle of the room and surveys the scene. He pauses at the sight of my bed, neatly made as always. Then he sees how I’m watching him and cracks a devilish grin. He shuts the door at his back and pointedly flips the lock, a clear sign of his plans.
I have no objection. I didn’t let him in here for coffee and conversation.
My heels get kicked into the closet. “I’ve got to jump in the shower. I hate having the smell of the club in my hair.” Standing in the bathroom doorway, I slide up the dimmer switch until the lighting is the perfect shade of near twilight. Bright lights annoy the shit out of me. Seizing the pliable fabric of my dress at the hem, I pull it over my head with one swift motion and toss a meaningful glance over my shoulder. “Are you coming?”
I don’t wait for his answer. I know he’ll follow.
My luxury bathroom was a customized install, an extravagance that doesn’t match the rest of the crappy apartment. The marble tiled walk-in enclosure rivals the size of the living room and the overhead shower panel boasts sixteen different settings. I can choose to stand beneath a drizzling sprinkle or a geyser that stings like a thousand needles, depending on my mood.
Right now I’m feeling more in tune with soothing rain as opposed to searing knives and I flip to the correct setting. The water temperature is ideal within seconds. At my back, Conner says nothing when he enters the room. I don’t turn around to look at him but the sound of his fly unzipping brings a smile to my lips.
