Chapter 9

Colton

When I’d headed back into the kitchen, my spirits high, I froze when I saw the sous chef at his position. I scratched my head. Walking up to the guy, I asked him if he was going home sick. He’d shook his head, saying he felt fine.

The head chef was busy expediting, and I asked if he needed a hand. He looked me up and down, then frowned. “You can get these orders out quicker. You and your fellow servers seem content to let them get cold in the window.”

I backed away, confused. Sticking my head in the owner’s office, I asked her what gives. She smiled sweetly at me, and then I realized something was all fucked up. The owner never smiled.

“Thought I’d actually let you in the kitchen, huh?” She laughed hoarsely, taking a drink of the cocktail that never left her side. The older woman ran a finger along the expensive pearls that hung around her wrinkled neck. “When will you get it through your thick but handsome skull that it’s never going to happen?”

“But why would you do this, now?” It made no sense.

Her eyes glittered with an evil light. “I saw you chatting up that table of female floozies. Can’t have you distracted on the job.”

I frowned. This wasn’t the first time I’d flirted with a customer. I didn’t understand why she’d played such a pitiful joke on me. “They’re friends of mine,” I said.

“Yeah, really good friends, I’m sure.” Then she pulled out a card from underneath the ledger on her desk. “Friends that you made at your second job?”

It was my business card. Where the fuck had the old broad gotten that?

“Look, kid,” she said, taking a drink of her cocktail. “You’ve got a pretty face, that’s why I let you stick around here. But if you don’t stop talking about working in the kitchen, I’ll drop you in a hot second and you can show your private parts full time.”

My expression hardened. “Understood,” I said, turning on my heel and exiting the back of the restaurant. I stopped at the host station and logged into the time log. Clocking out, I considered walking out the door and never looking back. This was a dead end, another in a long line. Why bother trying anymore?

Then I caught sight of Addison coming toward me and some of the shittiness I was feeling started to dissipate. When she agreed to coffee, I forgot all about the bitch of an owner and led her out, afraid that if I delayed, Addison would bolt.

We headed toward the diner, a light dusting of snowflakes making the world a little more magical. I was on a date with the Sugar Plum Fairy. Magic had to be at play somehow.

I’d grabbed her hand in the restaurant and so far, she hadn’t let go. I liked the feel of her delicate hand in mine. Any contact with her was appreciated, but there was something so simple and sweet about holding hands. Something I’d been missing in my single life of quick hookups.

When we reached the diner, I ordered two coffees and one slice of pie. Addison frowned, but I promised to feed her tiny bites that wouldn’t add up to enough calories to outweigh the walk we’d just taken. That turned her frown upside down.

She rested her chin on her hands, elbows on the table, and looked out the frosted window. “Piece of pie for your thoughts?” I said.

Addison graced me with a smile that went right through me, warming me up and making me wish I could see that smile in the morning light, next to me in my bed after spending the night. One step at a time, I had to remind myself.

“Just thinking about work,” she said. “I’ve got a busy week of performances ahead, all through the rest of the month. It’s hard work, and stressful. It’s difficult to relax.”

I nodded. “I can imagine. You’ve got to do things that make you feel good, to combat all the stress.”

She looked at me, and I realized suddenly how my words might have sounded. “I’m not saying, er...” I stammered. “I just meant, you know...” Thankfully the waitress showed up at that moment, depositing the coffee and pie.

Addison blew over the top of her cup, and my cock shot rock hard when she pursed her lips to blow. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened them, she’d pulled the pecan pie over to her side and was digging into it.

“You promised to share,” I reminded her, and she indicated my fork, pointing at the pie. I laughed. Addison was so into the pie I felt a bit jealous. It was a shame that she felt the need to keep herself so thin, to starve herself. She had lovely curves and could stand to gain a few pounds.

I joined her and we made quick work of the slice. Addison leaned back, licking her lips, and another jolt went through my dick. “Thanks,” she said, then wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Although I’ll probably be cursing your name after the sugar rush is gone. I shouldn’t have eaten that.”

“Nonsense,” I replied. “With as many calories as you must burn in a day, you could probably eat the whole damn pie and not gain a pound.”
“I wish,” she said. “If I ate the whole thing, the Nutcracker Prince wouldn’t have a chance of lifting me over his head.”

“Then he’s a pussy,” I said, just as she was taking a sip of coffee.

She gasped, gurgling her coffee and ending up spitting it all over her blouse. “Shit,” she said, a sheepish smile on her face. “You shouldn’t have made me laugh like that. I got coffee all over me.” Addison was blotting at her blouse but the silk was absorbing the coffee at an alarming rate.

“You need to treat that,” I said. “A mix of vinegar and water should do the trick.” As a waiter, I’d become familiar with all manner of stain removing treatments. “My place is a short walk from here. Why don’t you come over and I’ll get those stains out.”

Addison eyed me distrustfully, so I put up my hands defensively. “I’m not going to bite,” I said, even though I wanted to nibble at her lips for hours.

“Okay,” she said finally. “This blouse was a gift from my grandmother. I’d like to salvage it, if I can.”

I paid the tab and led her out into the streets once again. The flakes had become bigger and fluffier, and the air was colder, now that the sun had set. I took her hand again to lead her forward and she didn’t pull away. That made me smile.

I hustled us forward, making short work of the blocks and getting back to my place in about ten minutes. I let her in, then led her up the several flights to my door. Her nose was adorably red and her checks flushed. She looked so lovely, my pulse rate quickened.

Inside, I flipped on the lights, then headed to my closet. Pulling out an oversized t-shirt, I tossed it to her. “The bathroom’s over there,” I said, pointing at the only open door. “Change into that and we’ll get your blouse cleaned up.

While she ducked into the bathroom, I started kicking my dirty clothes and clutter out of the way, wishing I’d taken fifteen minutes to clean up this morning. When she came out, I got a strange feeling at the sight of her in my clothing. She tossed her blouse to me, and I stretched it out on the counter, dabbing at it with a mixture of vinegar and water.

Once I’d done my business, I hung the blouse over the back of a chair to let it air dry. Then I joined her on the couch, the only other piece of furniture besides my bed. Addison is scanning the room, her expression slightly confused. “It’s not what I expected,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. It looks so...normal. Not what I’d imagine a male stripper’s place to look like.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I had the pole removed because it was taking up too much space.”

Addison laughed. “That’s not what I meant. It’s pretty modest is all. I thought you made a lot of money from stripping.”

“So you move from insulting my place to insulting my skills?”

Addison covered her mouth to block the giggles. “I just mean, I thought you’d live in a party pad or something.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I only work a few gigs a month, just enough to help me cover rent and expenses.”

“But why?” she asked. “If you could make more money than you can waiting tables, why not book more gigs?”

“Because my dream isn’t to be a male stripper. It’s to be a chef. And I’m pretty sure working in a restaurant gets me closer to that goal than dancing for tips does.”

Addison looked at me with interest written large on her face. “A chef, huh?”

I nodded. “I want my own restaurant one day. Until then, my side hustle makes it so I can afford to live in this expensive fucking city and pursue my dream.”

“Still, I couldn’t imagine doing it,” she said. “Taking my clothes off for strangers. It seems so...odd.”
I ran my hands through my hair. “I’ve always been really comfortable with my own body. I see the way women look at me. And it’s not always totally nude. The women request it, and it costs extra.”

She nodded. “So what does your girlfriend think of your job?”

I found her question very revealing. It was a transparent attempt to determine if I was seeing anyone. That meant I was one step closer to claiming Addison for my own. “I don’t know,” I said, watching her face carefully. “I don’t have one.”

I could see relief cover her face before she quickly hid it with a laugh. “Well, no wonder. You don’t seem like the relationship type of guy.”

“You’ve got me all wrong,” I said, shaking my head with a laugh. “Unlike yourself, I’d very much like to be in a relationship.”

“Unlike myself? Who said I didn’t want a relationship.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “You did. ‘Work comes first,’ remember?”

Addison fastened on a wry smile. “Yeah, well, if you think I’ve got you pegged wrong, then you’re guilty of the same thing.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I said teasingly, sliding closer. “That’s why I haven’t made a move yet.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice was soft, but I could sense a little tenor of anticipation.

“You’re kind of a prude,” I said, not meaning what I was saying. “At the party, I did my best to turn you on. Nothing worked.”

Addison rolled her eyes. “Maybe I just wasn’t into you.”
“Is that so,” I said, drawing even closer. I bent to whisper in her ear. “If you’re not into me, then why do I see tiny goosebumps all over your flawless skin?”

Her sharp intake of breath said I was on the right track. “Why don’t you prove that I don’t turn you on. Kiss me. If you feel nothing, I’ll be able to tell.”

Addison gave me a look of disbelief. “Kiss you to prove I’m not attracted to you? You must think I’m dumb as a box of rocks.” Still, without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed her soft lips to mine.

The contact was momentary. I leaned back, giving her a knowing look. “One little kiss doesn’t prove anything. Other than maybe you’re a prude.”

Addison smiled and opened her mouth to respond. Before she could get a word out, I seized her lips in a savage kiss, bent wholly on turning her on. It was a take-no-prisoners strategy, and I could only hope it wouldn’t backfire.

The minute I captured her lips, I knew I was lost.