7. Chapter 7 #2
It takes my brain a second to catch up, but then I’m breaking into a grin. “Didn’t realize you’re such a smartass, too,” I quip.
He crosses his arms, facing me fully, and he would cut an imposing figure if it weren’t for the quirk at the side of his mouth. “I’m not your dad, Mal.”
“I know.”
“I’m not your daddy either,” he adds, staring in my direction like he wants to make sure I get it.
“No, you’re just a guy paying me for sex. Which we haven’t had,” I point out. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m pushing it. I get paid one way or another, and yet I’m positive sex with Henrik wouldn’t feel like a chore. Quite the opposite, in fact.
He watches me for a moment before skirting the topic. “What are you doing tonight?”
I release my breath. “Going out with friends. We frequent a club called Sublime on Friday nights.”
His jaw clenches, real strain lining his features this time, same as it did last night at dinner, and the sudden shift in his demeanor takes me by surprise. “Be safe,” he says tersely before turning on his heel. “And don’t forget to put the damn yoga mat away when you’re done.”
I watch Henrik’s retreating form, my mouth open.
What the fuck was that? What did I say that had him switching from fun and almost flirty to…angry dad mode?
Jesus, I really need to figure this guy out.
“Mali-boo!”
I roll my eyes, barely catching Alex as he sprawls onto my lap.
We’re in the VIP lounge at Sublime, where a hodgepodge of Elite 8 cast and crew hang out at the end of each week.
There’s plenty of us here tonight, like usual, amidst the dim lights and blaring music of the club.
Servers in booty shorts and not much else walk around the crowd, both up here on the balcony and down below, and men, women, and enbies flood the dancefloor, moving their bodies to the endless beat.
I was enjoying a couch all to myself while I nursed a Sprite. Now, I’m enjoying a lapful of my friend.
“You’re looking extra sparkly tonight, babe,” I note.
Alex beams. “Sequins.” He plucks at the hem of his cropped shirt before shifting off my lap and stretching like a cat.
One of the new servers does a double-take, bumping into the table in front of him as Alex arches and reveals the smooth expanse of his slim stomach. I snort as the man rights himself, taking one last look before heading off with his drink tray.
“You’re trouble,” I mutter.
“No, you’re in trouble, Curls. You still haven’t told me what’s going on with your mystery beau.” Alex sits upright and crosses his legs in front of himself to stare me down.
I shrug because I honestly don’t know what’s going on there.
“He’s probably just being nice,” I muse. “Taking it slow.”
“What, like breaking you in? You’re not a horse,” Alex replies, wrinkling his nose.
“Not everyone needs to have sex every day, you know,” I point out.
Alex shudders. “Perish the thought.”
I roll my eyes. Alex is a serious horndog.
“At least give me something ,” he whines.
“He’s…beyond,” I say around a sigh.
“Really?” Alex asks, perking up. “Isn’t he like, sixty or something?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “No. Forty-two and stupid gorgeous. Broad. Fit, but not like gym-muscly, you know?”
“Not like Dixon,” Alex says.
“Right,” I agree. Nothing against Dixon. Henrik is just… “He’s kinda distinguished, but in a sexy way?”
Alex nods, pursing his lips. “All right, I see what you’re saying. Sexy older dude, James Bond suit-type, still has game, wants you to call him Daddy.”
“No,” I say around a laugh. “He really doesn’t. He’s made that clear.”
Alex pouts. “Fine. Boring, but fine. Well,” he says, clasping my knee and squeezing, “if sugar beau isn’t taking the bait yet, you know what you need to do, right?”
“Oh god,” I groan.
Alex nods. “You need to amp it up a notch. A little ‘oops, I dropped my towel’ action. Or maybe the classic ‘look how sheer this shirt is—you can see my nipples.’”
“That’s a classic?” I ask, shaking my head to hide my grin. I don’t bother to point out that neither of those tactics would be effective on Henrik.
“Totally. Works like a charm.”
“Where do you get these things? You know what, no, never mind. Don’t tell me. It’ll ruin the mystery. And don’t worry about it, Alex. I’m sure he’ll cash in on the benefits of our arrangement at some point.” I sure hope so.
Alex’s ideas may not work, but it does have me wondering what I could do to encourage Henrik to take advantage of my services. I’m not used to men being so polite and distant.
“Fine,” Alex says, interrupting my thoughts. “You better promise to dish when it happens, though.”
“You’re weirdly invested in me getting boned, Alex.”
He just grins at me. “It’s a passion of mine.”
I roll my eyes for the millionth time and stand up, holding out my hand. “Come on, small fry. Let’s dance.”
Alex jumps up, taking my hand and practically dragging me toward the dance floor.
We join the throng of bodies on the main level, getting lost under the strobing lights and pulsing beat of the club.
And for at least a little while, I tell all those anxious thoughts whirling through my head to eff right off.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t have to worry about money. And it didn’t hit me earlier, when I was in Henrik’s house perusing his art and wondering what I was going to do with my days, but it’s hitting me now.
I don’t have to do anything.
I don’t have to hustle. I don’t have to race just to break even. I don’t have to worry about where I’m staying or what I’m eating.
For once, I can take a break.
I can simply be .
And isn’t that a relief?