Finally back in my jeans and T-shirt, I sat on a stool, facing away from the bar and into the empty club. I couldn’t have been gladder to be out of the hideous silver uniform I’d stuffed into my bag and couldn’t imagine wearing two nights in a row without washing. If nothing else, I wanted to rinse out the residue left by the creepy customers’ gazes.

Even though I’d been careful not to let any men touch me, I felt like I’d been dunked in filth.

My new job was humiliating, but the huge consolation prize was buried in my purse along with the uniform. I’d made almost as much money tonight as I made in a week at all my four old jobs combined. And that was just in tips. Every Tuesday I’d also get paid a week’s wages. The hourly wage was terrible, but the tips were great.

Tonight had clinched it. I was quitting the last of my old jobs. It would be strange to have so many hours off. Home all day, only working one eight-hour shift a night—and I didn’t have to work at all on Mondays! The money was that freaking good.

Melodie claimed dancers made even more. Wow. In my old life, I’d barely scraped by, what with paying rent, covering my sister Crystal’s college expenses, and bailing out Dad when he got picked up—usually for loitering, or for drunk and disorderlies. The idea of saving money had been as real to me as unicorns.

But it turned out unicorns were real. And the quicker I could put money in the bank, the quicker I’d be able to get out from under showing “gratitude” to Nick—and apparently his brother Keagan. The quicker I could start training to be a chef.

Entry-level jobs in gourmet kitchens either paid nothing or, if you were really lucky, next to nothing. Working for free under top chefs was the working alternative to culinary school, an apprenticeship of sorts, and I’d never been able to afford either form of education.

Leaning back against the bar and leaving one foot on the stool’s rung, I swung up my other leg, bringing my shin near my nose. I held my leg straight and pointed my toes. My thigh muscles shook, but I was still pretty bendy and strong, considering I hadn’t been anywhere near a gym since my foray into high school gymnastics.

Transferring all my weight to my hands, I pushed my butt off the stool and leaned my head back, striking a pose I’d seen Melodie perform on stage with a chair. Bending and straightening my extended leg, I turned my head to the side, flirting with an imagined audience.

Could I actually do it? Dance at this club? Get naked in front of strange men? It was supposed to be illegal to have nude dancers in a club that served alcohol, but that didn’t seem to stop this place. Stan probably paid off the cops.

I wasn’t sure I had either the guts or desire to dance on stage, but it felt good to stretch after hours of carrying trays of drinks while walking on six-inch platform heels.

After doing the same motions with the other leg, I set my butt back down and split my extended legs in a deep v-sit, my splayed limbs almost crossing the same plane as my head. It was hard to balance on the stool, but I felt pleased by how wide I could still split. I brought my legs together, lowered them, and touched my toes to the floor. Then I slithered off the stool, grabbing it from behind as I swiveled my hips.

I had no idea how I looked, but it felt kind of sexy. Was it? Maybe Melodie would give me a few pointers.

Rising, I turned to face the stool. From there I let my gyrating hips lead my body into a deep crouch, then straightened both legs quickly, ending up bent over the stool.

Someone coughed.

In a heartbeat, I came out of my lewd pose.

Nick stood close by, his expression dark and heated, the crotch of his jeans straining. Had I done that to him? Maybe I could be a dancer.

“Is that another way to show your gratitude?” He took a step forward.

“Dream on.” I gave him the finger.

He stepped closer. “Believe me, I’m dreaming.”

My breath caught in my chest. As hot as he was, there was no way—not a chance in hell—I was going to add sexual favors to this unholy arrangement between us. But I couldn’t deny that his gaze, his words, his physical presence made my girl parts all kinds of needy.

Stupid girl parts.

I snapped my eyes up, realizing I’d been focused on his package.

Angel had said something about a huge dick, and if Nick was anything close to proportional, his member must be massive. I couldn’t help but picture his cock—long and thick and hard, like the rest of him.

Looking into his eyes, I couldn’t break the intense connection between our expressions, and my insides contracted, pulsing, pleading with me to do whatever it took to get that man’s dick inside me.

I needed to get away from Nick before I did something stupid like turn these unwanted fantasies into something real. Swallowing my lust, I turned away and picked up my bag. The last bus arrived at the stop down the street in ten minutes, and although I’d planned to wait in here until the last possible moment, it felt safer to risk a little stranger danger than risk more alone time with Nick.

“Jade. You want a ride home?” A female voice pulled me out of my lusty stupor. Melodie walked in from the back hallway, wearing her hoodie and sweats, and jangling her keys. “The Shitty Melrose express is about to depart.”

Melodie had a car! I felt immediate relief. According to Google, the public transit route home this time in the early morning was going to take eighty-seven minutes—if I made all the connections. With Jade driving, we’d be home in less than fifteen.

“Ready, Nick?” she asked, and he nodded.

Nick was coming in the car, too. My girl parts sang hallelujah, but my brain took control. “I’ll take the bus.”

“Don’t be silly,” Melodie said. “Are there even buses running this time of night?”

“Yup. There’s one leaving soon. It connects with one that goes out to the airport, and I can catch one there that gets me within four blocks. I’d better get going or I’ll have another thirty-minute wait for the next one.” I started for the door.

“You’re coming with us.” Nick planted himself in front of me.

“No. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Look, obeying your every command is not part of our deal.”

“Deal?” Melodie asked.

“This has nothing to do with any deal,” Nick said. “It’s my job to keep the dancers safe.”

“I’m not a dancer.”

“Waitress, then. If you’re taking the bus home, so am I.” His chest expanded as he drew a deep breath.

I could tell by the way he’d set his jaw he was not going to bend—and in spite of how stubborn I could be, I didn’t want to take the bus when there was a ride on the table. Melodie would be in the car. I could control my libido.

“Great.” I turned to Melodie. “Thanks so much.”

I slid behind the driver’s seat of Melodie’s car. Of course she had a vintage VW Beatle. Of course.

“This Bug was my grandma’s,” she said. “It’s from the sixties.”

I tried not to grin as Nick wedged his body into the passenger seat that was pushed so far back it was flush against the seat next to mine. Even still, his legs were bent into his body and he had to keep his head bowed. No way was he going to be able to put on a seat belt. Then I realized these old cars didn’t even have such a thing. Not the shoulder strap kind, anyway, and not even a lap one here in the backseat.

Melodie started up the car, and the engine rumbled behind me. She peeled out of the parking spot and swung around a corner, throwing my body in the opposite direction.

My right boob struck Nick’s shoulder.

I looked for something to grab onto to keep it from happening again.

Still horny, I hoped what promised to be a rollercoaster ride home would be the cure.

“How do you like Shitty Melrose so far?” Melodie asked as the car shot up a steep hill, throwing me back in my seat.

“I can’t get over the space, especially for the price,” I said. “Or is that just mine and Nick’s?”

“Been spending some time at Nick’s?” She looked into the rearview mirror and winked.

“Look out!” I yelled and she screeched to a stop at an intersection, barely missing a car crossing in the other direction.

“Traffic,” she said. “Don’t usually see many cars on the road this late at night.”

“Early in the morning,” Nick said.

“So, Jade,” Melodie continued, “what brought you to Shady Oaks, anyway?”

“My dad set it up.”

Nick turned his head slightly, but he was so wedged in, he couldn’t twist around to make eye contact.

“I landed there when I started dancing at the club.” Melodie ran another stop sign with barely a glance and we started down a hill. “Not that all the girls at Solid Gold get an apartment. I got lucky.”

She glanced at Nick and he was giving her a look, too. Had Melodie done something—um, special—to get her apartment? None of my business, but for some reason I cared.

“Okay,” she said, “there was more to it than luck. Let’s just say moving into Shady Oaks saved my life.”

“Mine too.” I gripped the edge of the seat.

“How’s that?” Nick asked me.

“Never mind.”

“No, really. I want to know.”

At the top of another hill, I glanced out of the window and caught a view of the San Francisco airport, then the Bay Bridge in the distance. “It’s nothing that dramatic,” I said. “I used to work four jobs and they barely covered my rent and my sister’s tuition. This new place and the job… I might actually get to save.”

“You pay your sister’s tuition?” Melody asked. “That’s generous.”

Nick nodded, the back of his head rubbing on the car roof. “Very.”

“Yeah, well, she wants to be a physical therapist, and you need college for that.”

“And what do you want to be?” Nick asked.

“A cocktail waitress in a strip club,” I answered. “All my childhood dreams are coming true.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said, a playful tone to his voice.

Laughing, Melodie took another sharp turn.

Not expecting it, I was thrown against Nick.

“If you wanted to sit in my lap,” he said, “you could’ve just asked.”

I reached forward, making sure my middle finger landed in his limited line of vision. He chuckled.

“No college for you?” Melodie asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

“Couldn’t afford for both of us to go.”

“So your sister came first?” Nick asked. “How come you had to sacrifice for her?”

“I don’t mind.” Truth was, it wasn’t an either/or choice. Even if she hadn’t wanted college, no way Crystal would have ever earned enough to reverse our arrangement. It wasn’t like my sister was lazy, she just… Well, I’d taken care of her for so long it felt natural.

Melodie pulled into a parking spot on our hilly street, angling her tires so she wouldn’t roll, and pulled on the parking brake, hard. Nick opened his door and started to extrude himself from the small space he’d been squished into, and I followed Melodie out her side of the car.

“I’m starving.” My stomach grumbled as we walked up to the gate. “I’ve got eggs and bacon. Anyone want breakfast?” It would be nice to cook for more than one person, and Melodie would provide a great buffer.

“Sounds delicious,” Melodie said.

“I never say no to food,” Nick added, as we rounded the pond-scum pool and started up the stairs.

But when the three of us got to the third floor, Melodie headed the other direction. “Breakfast,” I reminded her. “Just come on over whenever you’re ready.”

Walking backward down the hall, she shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m beat. Think I’m gonna crash, then eat when I wake up.”

Anxiety accelerated my heart. The way I was feeling, I did not trust myself alone with Nick. “You sure?” I yelled across the open courtyard as she headed down her hall. “If bacon and eggs are too heavy, I could make you a salad? Some pan-roasted veggies? An egg-white omelet?” I thought through my limited pantry.

“Thanks anyway.” She stopped at an apartment door and waved. “What time’s your shift tomorrow?”

“Seven.”

“Want a ride in?” Her voice carried easily across the open space.

“Sure. Thanks. And thanks for the ride home tonight.”

“No sweat!” She opened her door and stepped inside.

Suddenly the air felt thicker, and the space on the balcony-like hallway shrank. Even though neither of us had moved from where we’d stopped at the top of the stairs, it was like the air and concrete had conspired to force me closer to Nick.

My breathing felt labored, and I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at him.

“Your place or mine?” His deep voice rumbled through me.

“What?” I glanced up.

“Breakfast?” He took a step toward me. “I’m starving. Unless you’re taking back your offer. Maybe you think you’ve already shown me enough gratitude.” He was grinning, his tone teasing. And even though his words could be interpreted as a threat, they didn’t come off that way. At all.

I dug for my keys as I headed for my apartment. “One breakfast, coming right up.”

“Fantastic,” he said but stopped at his door. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. I’ll come by in ten?”

“Sure.” I shot into my place, trying not to imagine his naked body under a stream of hot water.

Crap. I leaned back against my door. If he was going to shower, did that mean I should too? First things first. Get some biscuits going, because I hadn’t yet baked any bread.