Checking in that you’re still alive and well.
I smile, my chest aching, and wish we were in the same city.
I keep telling you I’m fine.
I haven’t told Taylor or my parents what happened with the apartment I was supposed to move into and that I’m living with Bastion. Nor do they know about the strip club—obviously. Every time Taylor insists that we video chat so I can show her the place, I make an excuse, but that will only last so long. Thank goodness my parents aren’t tech savvy, so they haven’t insisted on trying a video chat.
I just have to make sure mystery man hasn’t kidnapped you and sold you into sex slavery or something.
I roll my eyes. No matter how many times I tell her Bastion is a good person, she doesn’t seem to believe me. And I still believeit. We may have very different lifestyles and beliefs, but at his core, I know he’s a good person.
“What’s with the eye roll?”
Bastion’s voice surprises me, and I straighten in my chair, setting the phone face down on the desk.
“Nothing. Just my best friend being overprotective.”
He’s just come in the office door, and instead of going to sit down at his desk as he normally would, he leans against the edge of his desk and crosses his arms, studying me.
“Overprotective about what?” His gaze is steady, and I shift in my seat.
“Nothing serious. She’s just concerned about me moving across the country on my own and not having anyone here.”
“You have me,” he says matter-of-factly, but we’re never together.
“I’ve barely seen you.” I don’t know where the words come from when they slip out of my mouth or why they sound so sharp.
He tilts his head, a small smile on his face. “I came in here to tell you to pack your things up. We’re due at the condo in”—he glances at his expensive watch—“twenty minutes.”
“What for?” My pulse picks up as a mix of excitement and trepidation courses through my body.
“A surprise. C’mon, grab your stuff and we can walk back together.” He pushes off the desk and walks back to the office door.
I sign out of the computer and shut it down, make sure everything is arranged neatly on my desk, slide my phone into my purse, and join him. Bastion locks the office door behind me, and we walk down the hallway together.
We step out of the doorway beside the stage, and as always, it takes a moment for my eyes to get used to the dimness of the bar and the neon lights reflecting off all the shiny surfaces. Music pumps through the packed space.
I avoid looking at whatever is going on onstage, concentrating my efforts on looking ahead so I can get out of here, but Bastion pulls me to a stop when we’re about halfway through the space. When I turn to look at him, he holds up his finger in a one-minute gesture and walks over to talk to the bartender.
Great. Now what am I supposed to do? If I rush out of here, I’ll look like a child, but my muscles grow more and more tense as I stand here.
A quick glance at the stage, and I spot Renee. She’s still dressed, thank God. I think she must have just started her set. Though I want to look away, it’s difficult. She’s a great dancer, mesmerizing, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
I’m not sure what I thought the women did on stage, but I didn’t realize they were so talented. In my head, they just took off their clothes.
Renee moves over to the pole and swings around it once, coming to a stop and arching her hips out while facing the audience, looking around the room. She catches my eye and winks before hooking her leg around the pole and twirling around again.
“You ready?”
I startle at Bastion’s voice—as though I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t by watching Renee. I spin around to face him.
“Yep!” Then I head toward the exit as if I’m on the Olympic speed walking team.
Bastion chuckles as he exits behind me. “You know there’s nothing wrong with watching. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”
I ignore his taunt and change the subject. “Everything okay?”
He catches my meaning and says, “Yeah, I just heard from one of our liquor suppliers that we’re going to be short-shipped this week and wanted to let him know.”
