Chapter 5

Five

SCOTTIE

The Cat House is packed.

All the other girls are hyped. I watch in admiration as their outfits become a little more revealing and their makeup a little edgier. They tell me they're just playing a part, but little do they know, me on stage in a red wig is more than enough acting on my behalf.

I'm about to go back on when Chastity saunters up beside me and reaches her hand into the cup of my lacy bra. She gets a cupful and pulls my boobs up a little more.

I gasp, and she winks. Her fake eyelashes are so long they look like furry caterpillars. "Get those tips, babe, or you'll be working here for far longer than you want to be."

The validity of her advice is spot on.

She's right. I need to get my shit together.

What's a little stripping compared to the agony and guilt I'll be forced to live with if I don't do everything I can to help William.

It's not that big of a deal.

A haunting voice wisps through my head that I know belongs to my past, but I quickly brush it away and get to work.

The lights are blue tonight, and it reminds me of the hockey game. All we need is an ice rink with some broody hockey players, and it would be the exact same setup. Even the song is upbeat.

I avoid all the longing stares glued to my bare legs as I walk along the platform to my spot. My hands grab the pole, and as soon as the beat drops in the song, I jump up and wrap my leg around it with a sexy arch of my back.

A few dollars are thrown at my feet, but I ignore them and listen to the song, losing myself in the music instead of focusing on what I'm doing, because the only thing stripping does is remind me of my mother, and I swore I'd never end up like her.

Take a look in the mirror, Scottie.

My heartbeat thumps harder as I spin and move faster. The club is filling up quicker than usual, but that means more tips, and that's what I'm here for.

"You're up, baby girl."

I turn and press my spine against the pole. I peer down at Russ smiling like a perv. He reminds me of a creep that would drive a scary white van full of candy down a street packed with children.

"Over at booth four. You're up." He raises an eyebrow, like he's waiting for me to challenge him.

God, no.

I quickly turn and lock onto booth four. I stare at the pole that's smackdab in the middle of the table. I shake on wobbly legs and pray I don't break an ankle. I peer back down at my boss with a refusal on the tip of my tongue.

"I'll fire you if you refuse," he warns.

I grit my teeth and manage to squeeze out a half insult. "Will you fire me if I cuss you out in my head the entire walk over there?"

Russ's lip twitches. "No, but I prefer it to be out loud. That's like dirty talk to me."

He reaches forward to help me down, but a little growl escapes. His hands land on my hips regardless, and it takes everything in me not to kick him. I shove his hands off my waist when my heels click on the floor, and I hurriedly make my way to booth four before I have to endure any more moments with Russ's hands on me.

If Chastity were to see that, she'd smack him.

But Chastity and Russ have a weird boss/employee relationship. She can get away with it.

I cannot.

"There she is," a familiar voice muses.

I stop mid-climb onto the little platform. My hands almost slip on the pole, but my spine locks and saves me from falling. Over my shoulder, I see two Blue Devils approach the table with their devilish grins. Please no.

My cheeks burn. I turn, letting my palm slide against the metal pole to guide me. When I'm facing the duo, I smile sweetly. "So, this was your doing?"

Their cheeky grins split into full smiles. "Our favorite girl with a wealth of hockey knowledge dancing in front of us?" They get closer, and my heart is in my throat. Please do not let Emory show up. "Who else would we want?"

"Well…" My leg curls against the cool metal, and I have to physically stop myself from banging my face off the pole to knock myself unconscious. "Here I am."

"Yes, there you are."

My thick eyelashes wisp together when I hear his voice.

Heat trickles down my body, and my limbs weigh a thousand pounds each.

I turn slightly, pressing against the pole for stability. Our eyes meet, and my lips part. Emory Olson slides into the booth below and peers up at me with his steely jaw set like stone. His tongue slips out of his mouth, and he wets his lips, like he's waiting for me to do something.

I'm frozen.

My hands grip the pole for stability, and my ribcage expands with a lungful of air.

He's angry.

His dark-blue eyes narrow, and the longer I stare at him, the worse I feel. The judgment is crystal clear. If I were to peek into his head for a split second, I'm sure my self-worth would be destroyed.

"Glad you could make it, man." Malaki wraps his arm around his teammate's thick neck and pulls Emory's attention away from me.

I grab onto the distraction like a lifeline and quickly spin around, putting my back to them.

A hesitant smile touches my lips when I meet the flirty looks of the other Blue Devils piling into the booth. If I don't get a ridiculous amount of tips from this, I swear, I'll look into selling feet pics instead.

The next several songs go by quickly, and I try to focus on the beat and the way my body needs to move in order to keep pulling the men's attention, but the only thing I can think about is Emory and the silent insults piling in his head every time I face him.

"So, tell us, Cherry…" Kane, who I learned is a total hothead on the ice, leans back into the red leather of the booth. "Is that your real hair?"

Shit.

He knows.

Like a moth to a flame, my eyes shift to Emory's for a split second. His eyebrow arches, and a hot swallow works down my throat. Something clicks, and I suddenly feel like I need to prove that him sitting there doesn't bother me in the slightest.

I turn back to Kane. "So, tell me , Kane… Are you always a hothead on the ice?" I jump up and do a hook spin until landing in front of him. I lean down a little. "You should work on your defense."

The blue lights reflect off Kane's white teeth, and his teammates chuckle under their breath. Some of them throw a few twenties beneath my feet, and I laugh playfully.

Kane sits a little taller. "I think I might need someone to take the edge off before games." My laughter fades. A chill breaks out along my skin when his hand reaches forward. "Do you know anyone that would be up for that?" When his warm fingers wrap around my ankle, my heart stops.

All it takes is a quick trip down memory lane, and I'm spiraling.