For me, there is only one, and I’m going to make my point to him even if it costs me the last ounce of my self-respect.
I broke us—I get it. Not just our chances of a relationship, but our friendship as well. That hurt the most.
But there’s only one way we’re going to move forward, and that’s if we stop running. This might end as it did back then, or it might not. What I do know is that he needs to understand that I’m different. That I’ll take risks, even if I make a fool of myself. We’re living in purgatory, and I’d rather step foot in hell at this point than hang on this ledge with him any longer. So if this is how he wants to do it. Fine.
I’ll drag Dean kicking and screaming with me. We’re facing this whether we like it or not. Because I don’t want to care about him, but I do, and his jealousy tonight proves he feels the same.
My foot hits the stage, and I feel him watching me. But I don’t stop. I climb the steps, and when I finally reach the last one, I spin around and tear my shirt off. If he thinks I’m the good girl still playing it safe, then I’ll prove him wrong. This is my life now, and I’m making my own decisions.
One of us is going to break first, and since I made this mess, I might as well be the one who gets shattered this time.
12
Chaos
Willa storms onto thestage, and the second her fingers find the hem of her shirt and she strips it off,I fucking snap.
13
Willa
My shirt barely hasthe chance to hit the floor before Dean jumps up on the stage and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder.
“Dean!”
“You want to be a bad girl, Willa. Fine, let’s do this.” He smacks me on the ass when I wiggle, and my thighs clench tighter.
His fingers grip the back of my legs, and my heart races. All around, I’m sure people are watching, but all I can think about is what Dean plans to do with me. I knew that walking up on that stage would set him off, but I couldn’t help myself. If he thinks I’m the same good girl I was in the past—too scared to be spontaneous—I’ll prove him wrong. If he thinks he can scare me off with his world, then I’ll show him he can’t.
Dean carries me down the hallway, and the music dulls. But when we step into a new room with speakers, it’s louder again.
He kicks the door shut, and then the world tilts on its axis as he sets me on my feet. My vision swims from being upside down, but his hands hold my waist, keeping me steady. The room is lit by a single light overhead. Dark wallpaper covers the walls, like it does in the main part of the club, but in this room, there are gold threads in it. On one wall is a couch, and in the center of the room is a small stage with a single pole.
A stage he set me down on, putting us nearly eye to eye.
Dean’s hand cups my jaw, but there’s nothing sweet about it as he drags his thumb over my lower lip. His eyes are nearly black as he grazes my teeth, notching my mouth open the slightest. I’m buzzing at his touch. At the intensity of his stare. He watches my mouth as my lip pops with his thumb slipping over it, and then he spears me with his gaze.
“I never thought jealousy was sexy. But you getting territorial over me is hot as fuck, Willa.” He taps my chin.
I swallow hard, not sure what to think of that. It’s not like I intended to be territorial, but that’s what happened. The moment he disappeared with Tiffany, something angry stirred in my chest. I may have no rights to this man, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like he’s mine.
“You’re one to talk.” I narrow my eyes.
He grins. “Apparently.”
I’m not sure why I expected him to deny it, but he doesn’t.
“What are we doing in here?” I shift on my feet.
Only then does Dean drop his hand, taking a step back. When his eyes sweep me, he might as well take my clothes with him because I’ve never been more vulnerable.
“You want to dance? Then dance.” He backs up to the couch, dropping onto it and stretching his arms out across the back. “But in my club, you dance for me first.”
A little flare of jealousy burns in my chest, but I snuff it out. He runs a strip club. Of course he has all the girls dance for him first. Still, I don’t like thinking about it.
Dean watches me like he’s waiting for me to get off the stage and walk away, but I don’t. I’m proving this point.
To him.
