CHAPTER TWENTY
Cody—
My bike heads in the direction of Sonny’s without me consciously realizing where I’m going until I see the marquee.
Tonight’s Headliner:
Ginger
I’m not supposed to bother her. I know that, yet I can’t stop myself from making the turn onto the lot.
It’s late when I back my bike to the walk by the door.
Tiny is bouncer, and when our eyes connect, I know he’s not glad to see me.
I don’t owe him an explanation, but he deserves one anyway.
“Not here to cause any problems. I swear.”
He nods and lets me by. He’s big enough he could stop me if he wanted.
I’m sure he’s been told not to let my patch get any special treatment as far as breaking the rules.
Tiny has been in the club’s employment for a long time, and Cole trusts him completely.
At least until I fucked that up. Still, it’s me on the outs with our president at the moment, not Tiny.
I walk down the corridor and into the main room. It’s already the last show, but I haven’t missed Heather yet, or should I say Ginger?
I find a seat in the back, and a waitress comes and takes my order. Her gaze drops to my cut, and I’m sure she knows about the trouble last week. Dancers talk, and news like that travels like wildfire.
She brings my drink and leaves me alone.
I watch two dancers before Heather comes out. The room is dark with spots aimed at the stage, so I don’t think she sees me, but word could have gotten back to her by now that I’m in the house.
Her performance doesn’t seem stilted, so maybe no one has told her.
My eyes take her in from head to sexy painted-toes. She’s dressed in gold like some goddess, complete with glittering skin. She really is stunning, like a perfectly sculpted statue come to life.
God didn’t mess around when he made her to perfection.
I shift my gaze to the side, not missing the reaction of every man in here. My jaw tightens, thinking about them getting off watching her dance.
Once her show is over and she exits the stage, I know I should walk out to my bike. She’ll soon be out on the floor, offering lap dances to anyone with the money to pay.
Downing my drink, I push my chair back, but my eyes catch her coming out near the bar. She’s made a quick change and is now in a fishnet bodysuit that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Jesus Christ.
She moves to a table of three guys young enough to be attending San Jose State.
One takes her up on her offer, and she climbs onto his lap, undulating her body mere inches from his, her breasts in his face.
I don’t know what’s worse, that or when she pivots and her ass is in his face.
She’s not the only dancer on the floor selling lap dances, but she might as well be, because she’s the only one I watch.
I don’t know how I’ll react if she leads this kid to one of the VIP rooms. Just the thought of that makes me want to drive my fist into every face in the place. I want to turn over tables and throw every man into the street.
I can feel my heart race and my blood pressure pumping.
Take a damn breath, I tell myself. They mean nothing to her.
“Can I get you another?” the waitress asks, then follows my line of sight.
“No, thanks.”
A dancer asks if I want some company. I shake my head and vault to my feet, heading for the entrance.
Tiny sees me coming and opens the door. “Have a nice night.”
I don’t reply, just stalk out into the cool night air, sucking in a lungful.
*****
Heather—
“Want me to walk you to your car, honey?” Tiny offers, holding the back door for me. It’s been a long night, and my feet hurt. I’ve changed into yoga pants and a tank top, my pink duffel bag over my shoulder.
My eyes follow where he looks, and I spot Cody leaning against my car, his arms folded, and his bike parked in the spot next to mine.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Tiny.”
“I’ll be right here if you need me, honey.” He’s worried about me, and I think that’s sweet.
I head out, Coco and Velvet right behind me. They split off toward their cars, and I approach mine.
Cody straightens, his arms unfolding.
I give him a bright smile, but he doesn’t return it. “Hi, baby.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Hey.”
Not the greeting I expected. “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
It’s a lie, and we both know it.
“Cody, what is it?”
“You make a lot tonight?”
His question throws me. “I did okay. Why?”
“I watched the last dance. I left when you gave that kid in the white ball cap the lap dance.”
My mouth parts. No one told me he was here. How did I miss him? He must have been sitting in the dark spot near the DJ booth. I glance at Velvet slipping into her car. She’s wearing a sly smile, like she knew the entire time.
“I didn’t see you,” I whisper.
“Guess not.”
“Are you mad?”
He looks off, and his jaw tightens.
“Cody, you know what I do for a living.”
“Yeah, I do. Doesn’t mean I like it.” His gaze returns to mine. “Would you quit if I asked you?”
My shoulders drop. “Don’t start this, please.” I move to walk past him to my driver door.
“Why not? I can’t say how much I hate this?”
“I get that, but it’s what I do.” I shrug. “So, what point is there in having this conversation?”
“You can find another job.”
“I make good money, Cody, and I only have to be away from my son for a few nights a week. There’s no other job like this.”
“You can’t want to do that.” He flings an arm toward Sonny’s.
I toss my bag in the car and whirl, my hands landing on my hips. “Of course not. No little girl dreams of growing up to be a stripper. But I do what I have to do to survive. Don’t you dare judge me.”
“I’m not judging you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Because I don’t want other men leering and touching what’s mine?”
“Yours? I don’t belong to anyone. Are we clear?”
“I thought we had something.”
“Not if you’re like every other guy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Possessive and thinking you own me. No man owns me, understand? I make good money, Cody. More than I could make doing anything else. I’m saving to set Tucker up for the future. I have plans. Don’t screw them up for me.”
He drags a hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to screw anything up for you, and I’m not trying to own you, but I can’t have an opinion about this shit?”
“I’m not going to stand here in the damn parking lot and argue with you about this.”
“Then I’ll follow you to your place.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t want to have this conversation tonight. I’ve got a migraine.”
“You’re pissed.”
“Yes. I am.”
“Fine.” He stalks to his motorcycle and throws his leg over.
“So, that’s it? Not even a goodnight, drive safe?”
“Goodnight, Heather. Drive safe,” he snaps.
I’m so over it; I yank my door open, get in, and slam it shut.
“Fine. Be that way,” I mutter to myself as I start my car—the car he fixed for me for free. I press my head against the steering wheel. I should be grateful, and I am. He’s just acting like any man would in this situation. I can’t blame him for hating this. Who wouldn’t hate it?
He revs his engine, and I glance over.
He’s sitting there, staring at me, and I realize he won’t leave me in the parking lot, no matter how mad he is.
Throwing the car into reverse, I back out and head to my apartment.
Cody follows.
When I park and get out, he idles nearby and watches until I’m safely inside, but he makes no move to join me.
Once inside, I look out the window and see him roar off the lot onto the street.
A part of me fills with sadness that he didn’t stay, no matter what I said. But I know leaving is for the best. I don’t want to argue with him, and I really don’t want one of us to say something we can’t take back.