“Like an hour.”
“That’s not that bad. Help Kay around the bar, go for a couple of smoke breaks, and you’re home free.”
“Now that sounds like a plan.”
Burgundy winked at me, then turned and sauntered back onto the floor.
I took a breath. Then another. The bass was still pounding, the purple lights were still making everything look like a fever dream, and somewhere out there, Cross was probably still drinking himself stupid at his table.
Why was I even thinking about him? Bad girl, Mary. And as I thoughtthat,my eyes developed an apparent mind of their own and started scanning the club for him.
I had a bad angle on their booth — a couple of tables stood in between, obstructing the view, but I could see half of him, sprawled there, arm draped over the back of the seat, his head tipped back against the leather, eyes half closed. The bottle of bourbon sat mostly empty on the table, but he wasn’t holding or even reaching for his glass anymore.
He looked wrecked. And somehow still unfairly hot.
The messed-up truth was that I hadalwaysimagined him beingSaintCross69.Not some rando. Him. TheactualSaintCross or… Milo. The thought of somebody like him getting off to my videos had felt exhilarating. It had made me feel alive. I hadwantedto put on a show for him.
Worse — I had specifically planned my videos around the kinks I had noticed he liked. But I was a realist — I knew that was a fantasy — and it was more likely that some creep in his mama’s basement was jerking off tomejerking off than it being a rockstar with a fan base in the millions. Like — come on. Having the frontman of the hottest band in the States subscribed to your OnlyFans? In what world?
Apparently, in this one, Mary.
I pulled my gaze away before I could do something stupid like walk over there. Because I kept thinking, right? Kept mulling it over. You get to fuck a rockstar, Mary —andyou get 35 grand on top of it?
Still, he was a fucking dick.
An hour later, I clocked out.
Lolly met me in the changing room, which really was just a glorified closet with a cracked mirror and a row of lockers that worked only if you threatened them. I didn’t change out of the dress — what was the point? All I had to do was get to the car and then walk less than ten steps to my front door.
“Look at you, all clocked-out and homebound,” she said, grinning.
“Yeah. Finally.”
“Your first shift is done, babe! Congrats.” Lolly pulled me into a hug that smelled like cherries and body glitter. “You survived.”
“Barely.”
“Barely still counts.” She released me and stepped back, hands on my shoulders. “Listen — it gets easier. You’ll build up your armor. Learn who to avoid, who tips good, who’s all talk.”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I believed her.
“Now get your cute ass home and take a hot shower. Tomorrow you come back and do it all over again.”
“Sounds like a dream,” I said flatly.
She laughed and gave me one more squeeze before heading back out to the floor. I grabbed my purse from my locker — a sad little cross-body — and for whatever reason, I decided not to use the back exit but walk through the whole damn club. Well, okay, I knew why I did it. I wanted to catch Dahlia before I went, but as I was walking, I heard Cross’s voice and an “anyone know how to order a fucking Uber?”
Thirty-five grand, Mary.Besides, he was ridiculously hot.
And an ass,I told myself.
A hot ass, though.
Jesus, alright already!
I walked up to their booth, took a deep breath and said, “I’ll take him home.”
Dahlia was perched on Kill’s thigh, laughing at something Brett had said. Me? My world was spinning, and I was suddenly acutely aware of how much Jack Daniel’s I had poured down my throat.
