Breakdown (Hystoria #4)

9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Katie

I hide a yawn behind my hand as I’m stacking glasses behind Temptation’s bar, lifting my other hand to carefully rub the sleep out of my slightly made-up eyes.

It's been a challenging and exhausting few days. Pax's story continues to float through my head, and I still have no idea what to make of it. I believe him that he’s not an addict, sure, but do I really believe that he made a one-eighty? I don’t know. Everything inside me is screaming at me not to get involved with whatever’s happening, but there’s a tiny little voice, telling me he deserves a chance.

My entire body itches with the need to talk about it with someone who knows Pax, wondering if anyone else thinks he’s capable of such a transformation. He could be telling me the truth, but he could also be telling me what he thinks I want to hear and hitting the nail on the head. There’s no telling if he’s manipulative or honest.

Asking Harper is out of the question, because she’d very likely talk to Si about it, and rightfully so. Because if Pax wanted his band members to know where he is, he'd tell them himself.

I also don't want to tell Phoebe, because then she'd have to keep it a secret from Harper and, besides the fact that she's an open book and hasn't managed to keep a secret in her life, I don't want her to have to lie to Harper.

So, instead, I've been keeping everything to myself, tossing and turning at night, unable to shut my brain out as it plays through all possibilities of what might happen if I let him move in, or what would happen if I won’t.

Luke is obviously thrilled with the prospect of having Pax staying with us and doesn’t know why I’m hesitating. But he wasn’t there. He remembers Pax as that nice guy who hung out at our house, not the self-centered rock star he became.

My fingers find the tiny sheet of paper with Paxton’s number on it. It’s been sitting in my phone case for the past few days, taunting me whenever I touch it.

What if he hasn't changed? What if he only thinks he wants me to be the one to deliver him reality checks, but won't accept it when I do? What if the next few months I'll have to walk on eggshells in my own home? There are so many what-ifs that I don't have an answer to.

And then there's the big question of 'What if I can't find another roommate?’ Because so far, the search is not going well. After his message, there were a few others. One who demanded the room for free, and another one who would bring a child with them and demand free childcare. Fair to say, I told them ‘No,’ but time is running out and I feel worse and worse about Micah driving me around, even though he never complains.

I've checked out car dealer websites from places within a hundred-mile radius, but none of them have anything I could afford with how things are now. I need another source of income, one way or another. And if possible, I'd really prefer to not work myself into an early grave.

"Hey, there." I startle when I hear Micah's voice from behind me and turn around. Obviously, I knew he was at Temptation already, after all, he’s my personal chauffeur at the moment. I assumed he'd be hanging out backstage with the other dancers, like always.

"Hey, there," I say and force a smile on my face, tensing my cheeks and biting my lips to stifle another yawn. I'm not successful.

"You don't look so good, Katie." His eyebrows scrunch together, worry clouding his face. "Are you okay?”

"I'm all right," I answer and wave him off. "I'm just having some trouble sleeping, everything is fine."

"Well, if you say so," he says slowly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking at me with a scrutinizing stare, clearly not believing me. "Let me know if you need to go home earlier."

"I'll be fine," I reiterate and shake my head. I don't have a choice except being fine. Our bills won't exactly pay themselves. I’ll just have an energy drink or five liters of coffee and pull through.

"On another note, have you decided on the famous rockstar situation already?" He crosses his legs as he leans against the counter and holds my gaze.

Of course, he demanded the tea be spilled when we saw each other in the evening. So far, he’s the only one I’ve told about Pax and my struggle with wanting him to move in. It’s been great to vent about the whole thing, but what I really need is advice. But as he pointed out, he’s not enough in the loop about our past to give that to me.

And that’s fine. I’m just happy I can talk to someone about it at all.

"No, I haven’t, " I admit and deflate. "I just hope the longer I put it off, the more likely it is to go away.” A deep sigh falls from my lips as I wipe a strand of hair out of my face. “I know all roommates could bring trouble with them, but this one is just so personal. I don't think I have the emotional capacity to deal with any fall-out currently."

He nods in understanding.

“Do you have any alternatives as of yet?”

“Nope,” I exhale the word along with a deep sigh. “I got a few inquiries. The childcare one and the freeloader who I already told you about, then there was one who wanted to be my literal doormat and have me step on him, another one wanted me to be his financial dominatrix, and the last message I got was just someone who asked for nudes. So, yeah. It’s not going so well.” Pax might be my only choice and I’m not sure what to think about that.

“Oh, the joys of being a woman on any online platform," Micah rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching. I’m glad that the mess of inquiries I get is amusing to someone.

"Tell me about it." I roll my eyes. "Honestly, the financial domination one was tempting, but it seemed kind of sketchy."

"I can imagine." He shakes his head. "But babes, you need to come to a decision at some point. I know you hate relying on me, no matter how often I tell you that it’s fine. You want to do it all on your own, and that’s valid, but remember, nobody's going to judge you for letting Pax move in and nobody's going to compliment you for doing it all alone either . Don’t let false pride or anxiety make you miserable."

"Wow, that’s so wise," I say with another sigh, realization settling in my stomach. I’ll just have to bite the bullet. "But you’re right. There’s no use saying no. I need the money and it doesn’t look like another good candidate would suddenly pop up.” I rub my temples, trying to massage away the approaching headache. “I’ll tell Pax later."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now get out of my face, some of us need to work here," I playfully scold him with a wink, and he laughs as he saunters right off.

I narrow my eyes at Micah as he pulls me after him through the crowd and to the stage. The first beats of "Every time We Touch” by Cascada hit my ears and I just know he’s up to no good.

I must admit, though, as much as I didn't look forward to those lap dances in the beginning - they've turned out to be fun. And the best thing about it is that I don't even have to do anything - Micah is strong enough to just push, pull, and carry me into any position he wants me in. Sure, the grinding and stage humping is a bit awkward, but all in all, I guess it could be worse. I definitely imagined it being more awkward but it’s a lot more fun than dealing with drunk customers at the bar.

It's obvious that he enjoys changing up his routine and making himself and the choreography unpredictable for me. Just when I think I have an idea of what's coming, he switches his routine right up to catch me off guard, chuckling when it makes me squeal in surprise. Today must be a good one because I've seen him grin more, and wider than any other workweek combined. Whatever he’s cooked up in that brain of his, it must be good.

He starts his choreography again by dancing and touching himself, caressing his torso through his flimsy tank top, and lifting his shirt to let the audience catch a glimpse of his abs, causing all the women in the first row to squeal. He follows it up with some stage ground thrusting, making some women fan themselves with fanned-out dollar bills or their hands.

Only then does he rip the shirt off his body, revealing his sweaty skin and throwing the fabric pieces into the crowd. I hear a commotion, and I wouldn’t be surprised if women were fighting over them.

Usually, he’d start slowly, grabbing my hands to touch him with them before jumping into the intense stuff, but not today. No, today, Micah gets right to it.

He does a backflip, causing more screams to erupt in the audience before he gets himself into a handstand. He moves backward on his hands, until he reaches me, then lowers his legs until they rest on mine. Locking them around me and the backrest of the chair, he pulls up his torso in an amazing display of the strength in his abs, until he’s upright in my lap. Then he reaches behind me and holds onto the backrest, as he thrusts his pelvis against me.

"You're a dick," I laugh, loud enough for him to hear me, subtly pinching his thigh.

He swats my hand away. "Yeah, probably should have given you a heads-up, but come on, Katie, where's the fun in that?"

With a sly grin, he gets off my lap, does a little twirl, and winks at the audience, then turns back to me and fucking tips the chair. I squeal, and hastily grab onto him, digging my nails into his bicep as he lowers me on the ground.

"The fuck do you think you’re doing?" I shriek, narrowing my shocked wide eyes at him, but the fucker just grins at me.

"Please, as if I'd let you fall," he chuckles with an eye roll. "Trust me."

He stands up and circles the chair. I try to follow him with my eyes, but I can't turn my head far enough. Suddenly, he kneels above me, his crotch right in front of my face like we’re sixty-nining.

I slap his thigh, but that only makes him laugh. I have to hand it to him, I did not expect to have his bulge in my face today. He’s definitely surprised me there.

Suddenly, he puts his arms around my middle and fucking stands up with me. Instinctively, my arms close around him as he struts around the stage with me hanging on his body like an upside-down koala. All the blood rushes to my face, not only because my head is facing the ground, but because he's closer to my lady parts than any man has been in the past eight years. I slap his ass again and thank god, he turns me in his arms and sets me down on my feet.

I glare at him with narrow eyes and a red face as the blood slowly rushes back down into my body, causing me to stumble dizzily and he shoots me a sheepish grin.

"We should have established a safe word," I grit through my teeth, narrowing my eyes even further when he winks at me.

Because he's not done.

"Just for the record, it's cucumber," I let him know when he steps up to me. He nods in acknowledgment and leans down again to pick me up again, at least this time it's the right way up. But what I wasn't prepared for was him whirling me around his body like I weigh nothing. One second I’m hanging over his shoulder, the next I almost fall to the ground, only held up by his tight grip on my wrists. It’s like a goddamn rollercoaster, I barely know which side is up or down, until I'm lying face down on the stage again.

It’s nauseating, but holy shit, his strength is fucking hot.

"I'm motion sick," I press out, when Micah’s head appears next to mine, hearing a low chuckle in response.

"Well, please don't barf in my direction," he says quietly, but I can feel his body shake with laughter behind me. If I could, I would glare at him.

"You're making it really fucking tempting to do just that," I press out when he fists my hair and tugs on it gently until I lift my torso off the stage floor.

I have no idea what he's doing behind me, probably some more hip grinding, but luckily, we’ve made it to the last song of today's show. Once the last beats have left the speakers, I turn around and he reaches out his hand to pull me up. Shaking my head at him disapprovingly as I pat the dust off my shirt and jeans, muttering curses when some grey spots remain on my black shirt.

Looks like, I'm not too opposed to being pushed around and thrown around like a ragdoll, who knew? My body is not going to thank me tomorrow, though. I just know I'm going to be sore all over again. But it was so fucking hot. My whole face is still warm, and my skin feels all prickly. The more I think about it and remember it, the hornier I get.

Shit. I need to download some dating or hook-up apps and get laid.

I'm getting antsy behind the bar counter. The lack of sleep is catching up to me and Micah really got me in a twist. My thoughts are all jumbled, and my hands refuse to cooperate with my brain. Hell, my brain refuses to cooperate with my brain. After a few almost spilled drinks, I take a step back and let out a deep sigh I shoot Jen an apologetic smile, fill a glass with ice cubes and cold water, and motion to her that I'll step out for a bit.

Cold night air greets me as I let the door fall shut behind me and I lean my back against the brick wall, closing my eyes for just a moment. I suck in the fresh air greedily, my speeding heartbeat slowly beginning to calm down, exhaustion seeping into my bones.

"You all right?" Micah's voice suddenly appears from right next to my ear and I startle, my entire body twitching in surprise. I was too distracted with my misery to hear him approach. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No worries.” I wave him off. “It's my own fault, I should probably pay more attention to my surroundings when I’m standing out here." I chuckle and fish one of the ice cubes out of my glass to pop it into my mouth, pushing it into my cheek with my tongue. The cold really helps me stay focused, even though I look like a hamster. "What was going on out there, did you want to piss someone off?"

"Not quite," he admits sheepishly. "But-"

"There you are," another voice says from behind him. The corners of my mouth start twitching as I realize who it is .

"Hi Serena," I greet her with a wide smile, shooting Micah an amused look. Before he reacts, I step around him to give her a quick hug. She seems surprised but ultimately returns it. "It's so good to see you. Sorry, I wasn't really in a state of mind for pleasantries the last time we saw each other but thank you so much for having a look at my car."

"Of course," she says with a shy smile. "And don’t worry about it. I get it."

Micah clears his throat behind me and greets Serena with a hug as well once I step away from her. I cock my head as I watch the two of them, knowing what I do now, a smile forms on my face as I watch them interact.

Oh, she's got it. She's got it bad. Her eyes close once his arms are around her, and she looks super content when he leans his chin on top of her head. What a cute couple.

Micah's reasons for not pursuing things make sense, but maybe he hasn't considered or entertained the thought that he's just what Serena needs. I make a mental note to invite her to one of my weekly lunch dates with Phoebe at Flour Power and dig a bit around.

"I mean I you told me what your job was, but damn, Micah." Serena laughs when he lets her go and dusts some imaginary dirt off her sleeves. "But really? Jack the Ripped?"

"Better than the alternative, Porny McPornface," Micah teases her back with a grin, earning a playful slap to his upper arm. "I mean come on, it's a stripper stage name. It has to be tacky."

"Well, you nailed that. And you absolutely nailed that dance." She laughs nervously and I can't help but smile at the two of them. God, they're so adorable!

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself, too," Serena’s eyes wander to me, jumping around my face nervously.

"Oh, she was shit-talking me the entire time," Micah quickly jumps in, shooting me a pleading glance. So now that she's jealous he's backpedaling? I raise my eyebrow at him. Didn't think that quite through, did we?

"Yeah, I threatened to barf on him after he whirled me around," I tell her and grimace. It wasn't a lie that I felt motion sick. I'm not good with rollercoasters and what happened on stage came very close to that experience.

"Oh, dear," Serena laughs, her shoulders visibly sagging in relief as the tenseness seeps out of them. "Well, anyways, I should go home, I have an early day tomorrow." And with that, she runs off.

As soon as the door to the club falls close behind her, I turn to Micah. "You have nothing to worry about."

"It won't stop me from worrying anyway," he replies with a shrug. "Sorry for the ambush on stage though. Next time, I’ll warn you."

"Thank you.” I nudge his shoulder with mine. “By now, I know what I've signed up for, but I need to mentally prepare for another ragdoll experience." I fan myself with my hands and he bursts into laughter.

"Speaking of signing-" He beams at his cleverness at changing topics. "When are you telling Paxton he can move in? Have you changed your mind?"

Goddamnit. I haven't given the whole situation any more thought since we’ve talked about it, because my brain has kind of been occupied with what happened on that stage. I take a deep breath. Truth be told, it's been clear from the beginning how this would go.

"No, I haven’t," I admit quietly. " He asked me for help, and I can't leave him hanging. If he has actually changed and worked on himself, I'd be so mad at myself if he turned back into the man who broke our friendship apart."

"Just be careful, okay?" Micah's eyes glow with worry. "Don't set yourself on fire to keep him warm. You're already burning for your brother. Don't turn to ashes. Promise?" He offers me his pinky finger.

"You’re pretty poetic today. I promise to try my best." I link my pinky with his. "I'll message Pax after my shift."

My whole face stretches in a yawn when I finally fall into the seat of Micah's car, my eyes falling closed and my head dropping against the backrest. The rest of my shift was brutal. My lack of sleep caught up to me to a degree where no amount of energy drinks could manage to keep me awake. I hope that means no tossing and turning in bed while stumbling over my thoughts and exploring every possible ‘what if’ when I’m trying to fall asleep later on.

"You can sleep later. You wanted to send a text," Micah reminds me and pokes my cheek. I groan and swat his hand away, like an annoying fly. He's right, but the thought of looking at my bright phone screen and having to focus on writing and typing does not appeal to me in the slightest. "Come on, Katie. Do it."

I sigh and yawn again, patting my pockets with closed eyes until I find my phone in my jacket. I blink slowly as the screen lights up and I unlock it. Okay, Katie. Focus. I sit up straight, hoping it will clear my mind, but it only helps a little bit.

“I’m calling him,” I let Micah know, accompanied by another yawn. He starts the car and begins to maneuver his way out of the parking spot.

I stare at my phone, as though it might come to life and rip my throat out. Like it's a monster lying in wait, ready to strike. That's idiotic, Katie, just dial the damn number and call him. Micah’s’ words from before echo in my head. Nobody's going to judge you and nobody's going to compliment you for doing it on your own either.

Yet it feels like I’m suffocating. Closing my eyes, I greedily suck air into my lungs until I feel ready. I gulp, quite literally swallowing my pride and my hands shake as I take out the paper he’s handed me and type his number into the phone.

For a few moments, I just stare at it. So many thoughts are running through my head. I can’t believe I’m doing this. My finger hovers over the call button.

Eyes closed. Another deep breath. Then I finally touch the screen. Slowly, I lift the phone to my ear and listen as it rings. Once. Twice. A third time. After the fourth one, I move it away from my ear and end the call.

“Not answering,” I mumble, feeling Micah’s eyes drill into the side of my head. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s late, he could be sleeping.”

Now what?

Do I call again? Would that seem too desperate? Maybe I should wait until a proper time. Yes, I’ll call him before my shift. It would probably be better to do it after catching up on some sleep anyway .

Suddenly my phone starts vibrating in my hand, and I almost throw it against the windshield in surprise. The caller is an unknown and hidden number, but I know exactly who it is. Micah chuckles and I shoot him a glare before I answer.

“This is Katie.” My voice trembles slightly.

“Katie,” Paxton says slowly, sounding hopeful. “I hoped it was you.” I can hear the smile in his voice. Micah motions for me to put the call on speaker, but I shake my head. Nosy bitch.

“Yeah, hi,” I finally answer Pax and gulp. My heart is racing in my chest, and I need to take another deep breath, but it doesn’t really help. My mind is blank. Empty. I have no idea what to say. Why did I call him again?

“So, what’s the verdict?” I blink twice before I’m back to reality.

“The room is yours if you still want it,” I tell him quietly, staring at the car driving in front of us. “Do you still want it?”

“Hell yes.” His answer is quick and full of conviction.

“You haven’t even seen it,” I point out, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t care. I’m taking it.”

“Okay.” I gulp, forcing my breath to remain calm. “When are you going to move in?”

“Tomorrow?” My eyes grow wide. That’s so soon. I was hoping for a bit more time to prepare myself emotionally, but I guess I might just as well bite into the sour apple now instead of stressing about it for days.

“All right. Any time between twelve and five works for me.”

“Good. I’ll be there at twelve. Thank you, Katie. ”

My heart thumps when I end the call, ignoring Micah’s curious glances from the driver’s seat. I lean my head back and look at the roof of his car.

What have I gotten myself into?