“I was getting some practice in.”
She stares, and I blink but keep my mouth shut. After a few moments she nods and leaves the room. I really need to find somewhere else to hang out during the day. Or just lock myself in the dance room and not come out till I absolutely have to.
My shift goes by fast, I don’t see Ellie or Beast again for the rest of the night, and I’m even more disappointed that Nashville isn’t around either. It’s dumb of me to attach to anyone, I’ve learned that the hard way. Lily has been a good friend which has helped.
When all the patrons have gone and the doors are locked, the lights come on and the cleaners come in to do what needs to be done. One by one the girls leave too, Walker seeing them out as usual. I decide to take advantage of the shower after all the dancing and the long shift.
Walker isn’t around when I leave the dressing room, which is fine because I feel safe in the car park with all the security. It’s starting to get cold, so I pull my wool cardigan tighter around me, reminding myself I need to get a warmer coat. At least the window in the car is fixed. The heater is slow to start, but it’s not a long drive.
In the car, I turn the key and all I get in response is a click. Shit. I try it again a few times, with the same outcome. “Damn it,” I groan and put my forehead on the steering wheel. Why does this keep happening? Just when I start to get on an even keel something else goes wrong.
I could open the hood and look inside but that would be pointless, I know nothing about cars. A frustrated cry spills out of me as I keep trying to turn the engine over but it's just not starting.
A knock at the window startles me and I clutch my chest. It’s Walker. He steps back as I open the door and offers to see what he can do. I stand back, shivering as he tries to get it started but nothing is happening. He looks under the hood after it takes us a while to get the lever to work to open it.
I’ve never been more embarrassed.
“It’s your starter motor.”
“What does that mean?”
“A mechanic will have to fix it, sorry Charley this car isn’t going anywhere tonight. I can arrange a ride for you.”
“Ah, that’s okay, I can Uber,” I say quickly. Anyone giving me a ride will see where I live and I can’t let that happen.
“You’re not getting an Uber at this time of night.”
I’m startled again by the new voice and turn to see Nashville strolling towards us.
“It’s fine, I do it all the time.” Lies. I can’t afford to get an Uber.
Walker tells him what’s wrong with the car and shuts the hood. He eyes Nashville who tells him all is good and he can head back inside.
“Come on,” Nashville says and walks away towards the rear of the lot. When he realizes I’m not following he stops and turns back to me. “You’re not getting an Uber Charley, I can give you a ride.”
“But, I’m really fine…”
“I’m really not fine with you getting into a strangers car. Let’s go.”
It takes me a second to move but I follow him, then come up short when he stops at his bike. “You’re kidding, right? You want me to get on that over an Uber.”
“It’s more exciting,” he laughs. “Don’t you think?”
“Uh dangerous you mean?”
“Nah, it’ll be quicker too and I’m done arguing, so here,” he grabs a helmet and hands it to me. I stare at it like it’s some kind of alien item. “I’ll help,” he steps up close and takes it back, then raises the helmet.
I’m about to protest again when he pushes it down and everything goes dark for a moment, he flicks open the visor and grins, tipping my head up by shifting the helmet. He tightens it and clips me in, then takes my purse and stows it in the little bags on the side of the bike.
“What’s the address?”
Shit. I can give him a fake one nearby and walk the rest of the way. I tell him the name of the street, he frowns but nods and gets on the bike, then helps me on behind him. It feels super weird and I’m also more than a little terrified.
Nashville grabs my hands and pulls them around his middle. I’m not stupid, I know I need to hold on but I figured I’d grab his shoulders.
Nope, he warns me to hold on tight, then starts the bike. I jolt a little when he moves and grab at his clothes.
“Relax,” he says. “You’re squeezing the shit out of my thighs.”
