I race down the street of my little neighborhood, faster than usual. For once, I left Paul standing in that parking lot, not the other way around.

He found out Jimmy fired me and knew I wouldn’t have the money. He had only just begun his threats before I successfully yanked my arm away from him, thanks to the distraction of a passing police cruiser. I got in my car and hauled ass toward my house. I wouldn’t put it past him to know where I live or show up here, but I’m certain I got the head start I need to get inside safely.

I wanted to stop at the hardware store for a few moving boxes and tape, but didn’t want him to get ahead of me and be here waiting. That seems to be his thing. Garbage bags will have to do. I don’t have much. Most of its already been sold. I’ll comb through my house tonight, gathering the family photos and the few things of my mother’s and leave in the morning.

I take one last look in my rearview mirror, scanning for his dark colored sedan before making the final turn into my driveway. I don’t even let off the gas. My little car rattles with the jolt of the small dip near the street before practically skidding to a stop. I grab my purse from the passenger seat, looking over my shoulder again and quickly get out. I run toward the small front porch before looking toward the few steps that lead to my door. When I do, my heart almost stops.

He stands, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It’s a casual move, probably a subtle gesture to say he’s not here to hurt me, and it disarms me in a way that has me almost forgetting that Paul could pull up any minute. Audrey’s words come to mind, you need Chance McKnight, Paul will leave you alone and for a fleeting minute, I imagine Paul driving up, seeing Chance standing here and driving off to never be seen or heard from ever again. I push that thought aside, not wanting to involve him in my shit. He doesn’t deserve that, no matter how tough he is. I glance toward the street, noticing his big black truck, and wonder how I missed that.

“Hey,” Chance speaks softly, taking a few tentative steps toward me. He’s taller than I remember, and under the light of day, more attractive than I had imagined.

“Hi,” I say as my eyes briefly flit back to the new tires on my car and praying he’s not here for payment. “Thanks for the tires. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You needed them.”

“I’ll pay you back,” I lie, knowing as much as I would love to, my funds are limited and my time even more so. When I drive away in the morning, I have no intention of ever coming back.

“I won’t take it,” he grins.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, nervously.

“I’ve had a shit day,” he says, using my own words from the night before and immediately setting me at ease. When our eyes connect, he smiles and I get lost in it. He’s so damn handsome. His short dark hair isn’t styled, doesn’t even look like it’s been combed, but something makes me think that messy look is his style. Dark lashes line light green eyes, a slight bump just under the bridge of his nose disrupts its perfect line, but still looks perfect, nonetheless. Full lips stretch, framing a smile of white teeth and exposing a small chip on the inside corner of his left front tooth. This is the first time I’m seeing him unfiltered by darkness or obstructed behind tinted windows, and he’s more than I imagined. Not just more rugged, more handsome, just more…everything.

The wind picks up, reminding me of the falling sun and impending storm. I need to get on the road. I glance at the street once more. “Do you want to come in?” I offer, not wanting Paul to see him here.

“Can I?” he asks, his tone unsure. Proving again he’s not the self-assured prick that I’d catalogued him as. He wasn’t that guy last night, or this morning when he thought enough to buy me tires and he isn’t that guy right now.

“Sure, I don’t have much. Don’t even own a TV,” I say, trying to prepare him for my barren space as I walk toward the door.

“Can we just talk? There’s something I want to ask you,” he says, following me in.

Turning around, seeing him in my two-room cottage, he looks larger than life. ‘Like a bull in a China shop’, my mother would say. Only he walks quietly and carefully, stopping at framed pictures of Audrey and I, my parents, even my childhood dog that died the spring before I went off to college. “Is this your family?” He lifts a framed picture of the four of us at an amusement park. It’s a candid picture where we’re all making funny faces and holding up our carnival game loot. I was home on break my freshman year of college. It was one of the last happy memories I have that includes Audrey.

“Used to be.” I swallow hard, my emotions getting the best of me. I walk by that picture every day and lift it in my hands at least weekly to dust it, but there’s something in having a near stranger holding what was once your entire world in their hands that has me feeling the loss all over again.

Chance’s eyes land on mine. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, carefully putting the picture back in its place.

I force a smile. “It’s okay. My parents died a couple of years ago in a car accident. I should be over it by now, but sometimes when things get tough, their memory creeps in heavily and reminds me of what I don’t have anymore.” I force my smile to return, not wanting to do this tonight.

“And the other girl?”

“My sister, Audrey. No, she’s very much alive. Living in Texas with my aunt,” I say, carefully leveling my tone to avoid the distaste I feel for Audrey these days.

“I have two little brothers, Matthew and Brandon. Ten and eight. They also live with my aunt.” I sense the sadness in his tone. Perhaps this is the reason for his bad day. “I don’t have any pictures of us together though,” he adds.

“You should take pictures. We never know when our time is up. Sometimes that’s all that’s left behind,” I say, meaning every simple word of it. We hear people say things like that all the time, but you never think it’ll happen to you. Since that picture was taken, I’ve lost my parents, my dreams and even Audrey in many ways. We’ve had to sell our childhood home, my mother’s dance studio, but tomorrow when I drive away from St. Louis, I cut the invisible tether to it all, losing it in a gamble that I’ll get all of Audrey back.

Chance simply nods, not saying anything in response. “Would you like a drink?” I ask, deciding not to pry.

“Yeah, water would be great.”

I take off my coat and step to the kitchen area, hating that I don’t have walls. I’m acutely aware of Chance’s eyes on me as I reach into the cabinet for glasses, feeling them follow me as I get ice and pour water from the jug in the refrigerator. When I hand him the glass, I debate on telling him it’s only tap water filled into an old milk container, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care as he drains half his glass in one long guzzle.

“Are you going to get another job at a gentleman’s club?”

I almost spit out my water, but swallow it down through a choke. Chance takes the few short steps to me and claps me on the back a few times. “Sorry,” he says, looking down apologetically. When our eyes meet, my breath catches with the flutter swarming around my chest. I force my eyes to fall and take a step away from his warmth to regain my senses.

“No, it would be pointless,” I say, more to convince myself. I can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. After all, Jimmy had said there were at least a dozen competitors in his area. But, if one were dumb enough to hire me, I still couldn’t make enough to pay Paul off, even if I sold my body behind those dark curtains like so many do.

My mind is made up. I will drive away from it all tomorrow and probably end up watching my back in fear the rest of my life, but at least I’ll be living. If you can call that living.

“You could get better, you were already showing improvement,” he says with a grin, making him look younger.

A flush of embarrassment heats my face. “I don’t think you realize how mortified I am to be standing here discussing my very brief tenure as a stripper with you or that you’ve seen me practically naked.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about...” When his eyes drop the length of my body, I should feel violated, but my body heats and mind flusters, liking the brief attention. “In fact, you should be proud and the fact you only lasted a week is a compliment that you’re not like most of those women. You’re better.”

“I didn’t feel better, that’s for sure.” I laugh without humor, tilting the glass toward my lips to hide from his assessing gaze.

“What made you get up there?” he asks, as if he already knows there was something that did. I guess everyone has a story to what brought them up there for the first time and probably another about what keeps them going back. I never took the time to hear anyone’s but Brittany’s. The others weren’t exactly pulling out their welcome banners, so I kept to myself.

“Life,” I answer simply.

“I remember my first street fight. It was life that put me there too. Some guy wanted my shoes.”

“How old were you?” I feel the pinch of my face, trying to imagine a grown man wanting to fight another over shoes.

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen? Were you walking home and someone wanted to beat you up for your shoes?”

“No, I was asleep behind a dumpster and he tried to take them off my feet.” When Chance’s eyes drop, I sense this isn’t something he’s told many people. A dizzying sense of compassion overcomes me and squeezes at my chest.

“I don’t even know what to say,” I admit honestly. Part of me wants to console him, but it’d be too little, too late. He has to be at least a decade past that by now.

“I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for me. I’ve come a long way since then.” His eyes align to mine. Behind the confident mask of the rugged man standing before me, there’s a boyish vulnerability in his green eyes that silently plead for me to not show pity for him.

I smile softly. “Why did you tell me that Chance? It seems like something you don’t tell many.”

He shakes his head. “You’re the second to know.”

“Why?” I ask again.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s something about you. Last night on that stage...then in the parking lot…” He shakes his head. “I just want to get to know you, Mia.”

My heart squeezes again, not with pity, but longing. Call me crazy, I want that too, but I’m out of time. Paul missed me today, but he’ll catch up to me eventually. Chance watches me closely and I force my thoughts of Paul away, worried that in those long glances, he’ll somehow be able to read my mind. “You said when we walked in, you wanted to ask me something.”

A few seconds go by before he smiles, shaking his head and I’m suddenly wishing I had the ability to read minds. “What is it?” I laugh, nervously.

“Go out with me?”

“What?”

“Go out with me. Be my girlfriend. Whatever people call it when they spend time together and learn about one another. I want that with you.” He smiles.

“When?”

“Now, tomorrow, any day. Just say yes.”

“Yes.”