Page 21 of Drunk on You


  "Maybe," she whispers, her voice thick.

  "Maybe," I parrot. "How about ... baby steps?" I offer, giving her a sympathetic smile.

  "Baby steps?"

  "Yeah. I need some help," I tell her, letting go of her hand and reaching over to my purse to pull out the French for Dummies book I picked up before coming here.

  Liberty, sadness forgotten, tosses her head back and laughs. "Oh, this is hilarious."

  I hold it up to my face, give her my best puppy dog eyes. "Baby steps?" I say again.

  She nods, her shoulders still shaking with laughter. "Yeah, Nik. Baby steps sound really good."

  The rest of our lunch is full of hilarious banter while my friendship grows even stronger with Shane's sister. By the time we finished our lunch and paid, the Cage boys had already slipped out without us noticing. I make a note to ask Ember when the next big gathering is with all her parents' friends and their kids, vowing to drag Shane and Liberty with me to the next one so I can introduce her to a real man. Without any plans, we leave and head to the local Starbucks and crack the spine in my new book. Then we take baby steps, and I do my best to soak everything in.

  Even if I never remember a word that Liberty taught me, hearing her lyrical voice softly teaching me how to speak the words I was looking for and speaking the beautiful language her mother had wanted her to know so badly was worth every painful second that I butchered it.

  "I CAN'T BELIEVE WE DIDN'T think of this shit years ago," Nate grunts, backing away from the last new stage area we had to install. "I mean, shit, this is what we know."

  All in all, we added four new spotlight areas, just like the wet stage at the main bar. Two were in the VIP sections and two more were on opposite corners of the club. With the new theme night at Dirty, we hired a few new guys to take the stage during our Filthy nights, also adding more dancers to our lineup and freeing Nate and myself up to only step in when we want to, not because we have to.

  "It's a good idea," I agree, my reluctance in putting more of myself on display and risking Nikki realizing she can't do this because of my job weighing heavily on me. We were a week away from the big night, our first Filthy Friday, and instead of being fucking thrilled that we're about to see a massive spike in revenue, I was terrified that I would lose the woman who I no longer believed I could live without.

  "What's crawled up your ass, man?" Nate asks, frowning at me before taking a huge gulp of water. Crumbling the bottle when he finished it off, he tosses it into the trashcan we had pulled to the middle of the room.

  "Ember ever give you the kind of shit I got from Lacey about working here?"

  Nate barks out a laugh. "You're kidding, right? She loves it. At first, the only issue she had was that bitch Julie a few years ago who worked here. After her, smooth sailing, my man."

  "Just like that?"

  Nate gets serious, leaning against one of the bar tables and studying me. I can't imagine I'm doing a good job at hiding how stressed I've been with my concerns about Nikki really being okay with what I do. I want to trust what she says, but it's hard when I lived through a relationship that did nothing but show me the negative side of what I do for a living when it comes to having a lasting bond with someone. I know it isn't fair to her, not with the enormity of my feelings for the woman who started out as my fake girlfriend.

  "Man, this shit isn't the big bad monster you're building it up to be. I've known Nikki for a long damn time, and I can promise you--just like Em--she wouldn't give a shit if you got on one of these stages and started waving your decorated dick around. All she sees is the man she has that others might want but won't ever have. Stop looking at it like a negative and see the other side of it."

  "Yeah? What side, Nate? The only fucking side I know is where my girl goes crazy, stalks my every move, monitors my phone, and then fucks another girl because she wants me to be as jealous as she is. It's all I know, man!"

  "One stupid bitch is going to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to you then," he tells me honestly, his expression dead serious.

  I run my hands through my hair. "You don't think I know that? I feel like I'm holding on for dear life, just waiting for her to look at me one night while I do my job and her smile be gone. The thought of hurting her is fucking with my head."

  "Here's a thought," Nate says, pushing off the table and walking to where I'm leaning against the new stage we just finished building. "Maybe give her a chance to prove to you just how stupid you're being."

  "And if I'm right?"

  "Then at least you know, and maybe Nikki isn't the girl I've known for over twenty years."

  He stalks off, disappearing behind the doorway that leads to his office. I take a look around the club and feel sick. This is why I work so fucking hard to keep everything in line. Surprises ruin everything.

  Everything.

  "What's going on in that handsome head of yours?"

  I turn from the movie I'd been staring at for the past hour, yet not really watching, and take in the woman who has quickly become everything to me. I shake my head, pull my arm around her shoulders, and pull her deeper into my side. Her eyes don't leave mine, but her smile slips slightly.

  "Seriously, Shane, you've been quiet since we left dinner earlier."

  "There's just a lot going on at work, cherie. Nothing to worry about." The words taste wrong on my tongue, but I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.

  "Problems with the upcoming Filthy night unveiling?" She shifts on the couch while still within my hold, making it easier to look at me.

  I feel her stare, and all it does is make this odd pit of dread I've been carrying since we started transitioning things at Dirty grow to insurmountable levels. The second she put the idea out there, even knowing it would take our 'sex sells' dancing to a new level, I knew it was the right move business-wise. I've just been struggling if it was the right move for me on a personal level--and for my relationship with Nikki.

  "Or is it someone else making you get that hulking frown pop out so much on your face," she asks when I continue my silent musings.

  "No, Nikki." I sigh, shifting to pull her on my lap. Her legs spread, and her hands curl around my neck. I look up at her, wondering how I got so fucking lucky at the same time praying I stay that way and this girl stays mine. Fuck, I hate having these doubts.

  "We haven't talked about Lacey in a while. Are you still worried about her?"

  I shake my head. "She won't ever be gone from our lives completely since she lives in town, but she knows she lost whatever bullshit she had let herself think could happen. She hasn't been to Dirty, but I know she's tried a few times. She's not allowed in, and the bouncers know that. She isn't stupid enough to show up here. That's all that matters, Nik."

  "Something tells me she isn't done, honey." She flexes her fingers and bends down to look me in the eye. "Especially since the talk of Dirty going Filthy has gained momentum. There's no way she's missed it. I was driving over to Em's the other morning, and they were talking about it on one of the morning radio shows."

  "I'm not surprised. We sold out the debut night tickets without marketing what it meant. That doesn't mean she's not going to start her shit."

  Nikki giggles, her smile hitting me deep. Fuck, this woman. Just the thought of losing something I had just found makes me feel sick.

  "You're crazy if you think that, Shane. Don't worry; I'll be there opening night ready to protect my man from the crazy lovers of past heartbreak."

  I lift off the back of the couch, my arms wrapping around her body and pulling her tighter to me at the same time. She melts, her hands shifting to my hair and her face dipping close. I pour everything into the kiss that follows, wanting her to feel everything. We continue to hold each other, our lips moving slowly and deeply. Only it's my hold that feels a tad desperate.

  Without breaking our connection, I shift my hold and grasp her ass to support my move as I stand from the couch. Her legs hook around my back the second I stand
, causing a growl to rumble in my chest when her pussy presses tight against my crotch. The thin fabric of her yoga pants against my thin and faded sweats does nothing to hide the warmth coming from her. I bet under the layers, I would find her slick and wet, ready for me.

  When I toss her on the bed, she doesn't move. My perfect woman, sitting there and waiting for me to tell her what to do. I'm not stupid; I see the spark in her eyes when she wants to ask me to let her lead, but with all the bullshit in my fucking head, I can't go there yet--and if I'm honest, I'm not sure I'll ever be ready. Just the thought of being so vulnerable to anyone makes my skin itch. My control is the driving force that helped me survive the shit in my life. I've become as dependent on it protecting me when I was vulnerable as I have breathing to keep me alive.

  Long after I've demanded her to strip and given us both what we wanted, my thoughts continue to race around in my mind. Nikki's heart beats against my chest as she sleeps against my side, close and trusting. My own beats in a slow rhythm that echoes hers in the most lulling tango.

  Never in a million years did I think I would know what it felt like to have a woman like her in my life. I had thought, in the beginning, I would eventually feel this with Lacey, but I know the difference now. When you have the real thing, you can see how cheap the imitations you had in the past hold up in what matters in life.

  Almost two months ago, the girl I had a crazy-as-fuck crush on gave me an opening. I didn't realize she would become my everything when we started our fake relationship. Now, I know there was never anything about it that wasn't real. She's meant for me. I was made for her. Two halves of a fucking whole and I know, without her, I'll never have happiness again.

  Which is why I'm fucking terrified she's going to run. I lost the ability to control my fears. This woman submits her trust in me and allows me the gift of my control in every aspect that I ask. Her trust is given and comes without question or doubt. How fucked up is it that I can't even give her the same type of respect when she's given me no reason to think she might be like the other women I've known in the past? And I'm not sure what upsets me the most--that she might really be unable to handle my career or that I might not ever be able to enjoy the best thing I know will ever happen to me because I'm too fucked up to give her my complete trust.

  "ARE YOU EXCITED FOR YOUR trip next week?" Ember asks, turning to look at me over her shoulder from her paint station in the corner of her studio.

  I give Quinnie one more bite of her mushed up and disgusting looking baby food and glance over her mussy brown ringlet baby head to smile at my best friend. "I am. Even though watching my Quinnie-Q-Moosie-Moo is the easiest job in the world, it will be nice to just get away and spend some one-on-one time with Shane, you know? Recharge with some quality time with no distractions before coming back and focusing on getting some applications in at a few schools I heard were hiring."

  "You and Shane sound like you're going strong," she muses with a smile, still puttering around with her painting supplies.

  Something shifts inside me, the same twinge I've felt for the past couple of weeks. I know he's busy getting everything set up for this upcoming unveiling of Dirty's Filthy night, but he just seems ... I don't know, somewhat out of reach.

  "He's stolen my heart, Em."

  She stops what she's doing at that and turns the smile up, pure happiness. "You love him?"

  I nod. "Yeah."

  She frowns, turning to give me a contemplative study, leaning against the edge of the counter and crossing her arms. "Why does that make you look like someone just kicked a puppy in front of you?"

  Quinnie makes a noise, and I give her another spoonful of her disgusting food. She's only eating this stuff sporadically, but I can't wait until she's fully on solids. She sticks her tongue out and blows, spitting some of her mush back out--saving me from having to answer right away.

  "He's being weird," I finally admit, wiping Quinnie's mouth and shrugging at Ember.

  "Weird as in normal Shane weird, or weird as in something else?"

  "I feel like something's bothering him, but he doesn't want to discuss it with me. You know we're together more often than not. I think we've spent five nights, if that, apart in the past month. There isn't anything we don't discuss, but the second we start to change the topic to work or things with the Filthy night, he gets weird. I don't know how to explain it, Em. Maybe it's in my head, but I just can't shake it."

  "And you asked him? To see what he says?"

  I think back to all the times he's said or done something off recently. "Straight out? Not really. He just says that things are a little crazy at Dirty, and that's it. But I know it's not all. Something's there ... I just can't seem to sift through what he isn't telling me to hear it."

  She moves and comes to sit next to me, giving her daughter a kiss on the way. We both get distracted when Quinnie starts banging on her high chair, babbling the baby words only she understands. Finally, she takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

  "You know what I see when I watch you two together?"

  "What?" I ask on a breath.

  "I see two people who care about each other deeply. I see a woman who, despite not having the best experiences to move on easily, is doing just that. You trust him to be your happiness, giving him your all, and I love that about you. Shane, while I'm sure had dated before he was with Lacey, has always been more cautious, but he still looks at you like you're the most precious thing to him. The rest of life can get choppy at times, Nik. It did for Nate and me as well, but if you don't come out and ask Shane what's bothering him, you're just doing the both of you a disservice."

  "What if he wants to break up?" I question, voicing the one thing that's been bothering me for a while.

  Ember chuckles, shaking her head. "Sweetheart, he doesn't want to break up."

  I lean back in the chair and look up at the ceiling, the sun's rays making shadows on the stark white surface.

  "Tomorrow. I'll talk to him tomorrow. I don't want to stress him out tonight. Not with the big opening. Hell, I had to remind him to get me a pass with the new security crew they brought in to man the door tonight. I don't know, Em. Maybe I'm being stupid and it's just that, his stress."

  "Only one way to find out, babe," she smarts, tapping me with her shoulder and laughing. "Why don't you head on home and get ready for tonight? I'm done here anyway. Quinnie can come with me to talk to Annabelle at the gallery."

  "I wish you were coming tonight."

  "Trust me, you're going to have more fun without me there. Plus, you'll just watch Shane dance then pull him up to the office to take care of what that boy's hips do to you."

  I laugh, feeling a little more lighthearted. "Like you wouldn't be doing the same to Nate."

  She lifts one shoulder, smirking. "Oh, I would. I made him show me the dance he plans on doing tonight. Since I probably won't get to a Filthy night until after I have the baby, I wanted to get a private VIP show. If Shane plans on doing even half the things that Nate showed me, watch out, girlfriend, because you'll be liable to end up pregnant just by watching."

  We both giggle, wiping away tears.

  "The crowd is going to go insane, Nik," she continues, cleaning her daughter up after she spits out another mouthful, clearly finished with her lunch. "If we thought the girls ate them up before, you just wait."

  "Does it ever bother you?"

  "Not really. I mean, sure Nate is flaunting his body and making other women crave him, but at the end of the day, he's married to me. He's coming home to me and Quinnie, and there isn't a woman around who could jeopardize that."

  I move my head to agree. "And knowing that they're yours makes it even hotter."

  "You aren't wrong, girlfriend," she says, snorting a little with her giggle.

  "Shane and I aren't as committed as you and Nate, but I still know he wouldn't stray. Even if he was stripping it all off like he used to, I think I would still feel the same way. He's mine and I'm his. The rest is just a
show."

  I laugh to myself thinking about how true that last part used to be. I'm so thankful that my fake boyfriend turned out to be, hopefully, my forever one.

  I help Ember get the rest of Quinnie's mess cleaned up, and after making sure she doesn't need help with anything before we both head out, I promise to call her later as I head home to get ready for tonight.

  Shane left super early this morning. Having crashed at my place, he gave me his own brand of lovemaking all night long, and I didn't even hear him get up this morning. Other than a few brief texts to say hey and chat throughout the day, I haven't wanted to bother him, knowing he would be beyond busy getting things ready for tonight. When they decided to pull the trigger on Filthy, I had no doubt that both he and Nate would be dancing on the first night. They both get off on the high from their spotlight dances, something they haven't needed to do much of lately. They have only filled in here and there when they do, but it was that love of performing and the high from the crowd that would pull them both down equally once in a while to give a show.

  I had asked Shane a few weeks ago what it was about dancing at Dirty that he loved so much, and he said much of the same. Stripping was the only thing that he knew after his mom died. He wasn't just trying to finish school, but after she passed, he found himself raising his sister until a few years back when she started school herself. He still very much supports her, but it's not the same now. Still, even though stripping had started out as a way to guarantee a roof over their heads, he loved it.

  When it boils down to it, I think it also has a lot to do with his control issues. He can get up there and let loose, blow off some stress, and he knows he is in charge of how much or how little he gives to those watching him. At least, that's how I perceive it. It's also a big part of why I love him. Stripping got him through a big loss but was also how he survived. It's part of my man ... the man I love.

  Now if I could just get him to let me in the rest of the way and prove that he's not the only one shouldering the stresses of his life anymore. Then, well ... then I'll have it all.