The last couple of hours of my shift at Burger Bell just drag on. At one point Brianna shows up but she’s so “busy” she doesn’t have time to talk. She’s just stopping in to get her clothes from me. It’s the perfect time to confront her over what happened but I just don’t have the heart to do it. She looks even more tired than I feel, and a little strung-out. I know she has a baby to take care of, and I came to her in a time of need, but I still feel like she deceived me. She refuses to look me in the eyes as I hand the naughty school girl outfit over to her, and from the way she’s acting, I almost have to wonder if she’s mad at me? If I remember correctly, she was acting all protective last night while we were in the dressing room. But once we were actually out on the floor she was a different person. She threw me to the wolves. Perhaps I never knew her. Perhaps after last night our friendship really is over? I don’t know. I guess only time will tell.

After Brianna leaves, I feel like I’m in a stinky funk, and work slows back to a crawl.

Even Luther and James showing up for dinner doesn’t make the time go any faster. We eat together, and they give me a status update on mom. According to them she hasn’t moved but she’s still snoring. Unfortunately, they can’t stay long, they both have homework that needs to be done and class first thing in the morning.

As much as I want my shift to end though, I’m seriously conflicted. I’m dreading “renegotiating” the terms with Colt. This is a bad idea. Bad, bad, bad. I need him in my life as much as I need a heart attack.

But he’s so hot.

Fuck. I’m so screwed.

He wants me. He wants me enough to hunt me down and show up at my work to find me. The more I remember it, the more I almost want to believe it was a hallucination brought on by too little sleep and inhaling too much grease. Except that Amanda won’t stop bugging me about it. She’s spent the last two hours trying to pry the details out of me.

How did I meet him? What does he do for a living? What does he want me to do?

So far I’ve managed to remain vague and say I just happened to run into the guy, and as to what he does or what he wants—her guess is as good as mine. I’m just going to give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out, which is mostly true.

I just hate lying, it’s always hard as hell to keep the facts straight, but I can’t just tell her the truth. I met him at a strip club. He propositioned me, offering me two thousand dollars for the night. We ended up having amazing, mind-blowing sex and I snuck out before he woke up. Now he’s back and he’s ready to make me another offer.

I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my gut that the offer he means to make me is another offer I can’t refuse.

I don’t think I’ve ever dreaded my shift ending before, but once seven rolls around I feel like I’m about to be sick. I take my time changing, slipping into fresh jeans and a t-shirt. I brush my hair out and stuff my uniforms in my bag. By the time I walk out the door it’s a quarter after seven.

Colt’s little red coup is parked just outside the doors; I’ve probably kept him waiting.

The driver’s side door pops open, but I shake my head at him and rush over to the passenger’s side. He scowls and gets out of the car anyway.

Dammit. Why does he have to be so chivalrous? The less people that see me with him the better.

Invading my personal space, he stands closer than necessary to open the car door for me, and I think I feel his hand brush against the small of my back. I have to take a deep, calming breath. I’m so wired-up, my body wants to jump away from him.

Once the door is fully open, I move forward to slide in but Colt’s hand on my arm stops me.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes full of concern.

No, I’m not alright. There’s something seriously wrong with me. Colt is a walking, talking wet dream. He’s chivalrous, attentive, attractive, rich, smart and he’s great in bed. And I’m freakin’ terrified to be seen with him.

It’s official, I’m insane.

I open my mouth, not sure what to say.

“Whitney,” Colt rumbles and pulls me into his arms. I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t help it. I feel myself melting against him as his arms wrap around me.

I close my eyes, grab at his shirt, and bury my face into his chest. His hands rub up and down my back soothingly. This feels too good, too right—he smells so good I must be dreaming.

“You’ve had a very long day,” Colt breathes warmly into my ear.

I nod my head, still unable to speak.

“Do you want to come back to my place and get some sleep?”

Yes, I definitely want to do that. But I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“Why? I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“I have to go home. My brothers are expecting me.”

“Okay.” Colt says, his arms tightening. “I’ll give you a ride. We can talk on the way.”

I nod my head and reluctantly peel myself off of his chest. He was so warm, so safe, I could so snuggle up to him all day.

I slide into the car and Colt gently shuts the door behind me. I drop the bag that I carry all my crap around in to the floor, between my feet. As I’m fastening my seat belt, I look up and out the windshield. Amanda is staring out of Burger Bell’s window with her jaw dropped, gaping stupidly at us.

Shit. There goes keeping this on the down-low.

Colt slides behind the wheel. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” I force a smile. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

His hand brushes across my thigh before he shifts the car into gear and pulls out. “Where are we heading?”

“Ashley Grove. Oak Lane.”

Colt’s eyes flick to me in surprise. Well, I guess whoever told him where I work didn’t tell him everything about me.

Ashley Grove is the bottom of the bottom, the kind of neighborhood you only live in when you have no other choice. The streets are neglected; the buildings are decrepit. It would be the perfect backdrop for one of those post-apocalyptic movies. The few well-meaning residents that reside there are all that keep it from completely rotting away. There have been some revitalization attempts recently, but the hustlers always run the do-gooders off. The only reason I live in the area—in a tiny two-bedroom apartment with my brothers—is because my mother got us evicted from every other affordable place. If you don’t live in Ashley Grove, you only go there if you’re looking for certain things. Things such as drugs, weapons or loose women. It’s not the kind of place you head to just to hang.

“You know where it is?” I ask, testing him. Will he play stupid or act polite?

His jaw clenches and he nods his head. “I do. I’ve been there a few times.”

“You have?” I ask, and now it’s my time to be surprised.

“Yeah, back in high school. A few guys on the team lived there.”

“What team?” I ask, relaxing against my seat.

Colt grins. “I played football in high school.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and in college. I almost went pro, everyone expected me to.”

“Almost?” I ask and turn in my seat until I’m facing him. Mostly, he keeps his eyes glued to the road, but every few seconds his eyes slide over to me.

“Yeah, I got hurt. Tore my ACL. Took a year to recover. That year gave me a lot of time to do some serious thinking. Ended up deciding I rather be involved with the sport through the business side of things.”

“So you got hurt and decided to be an agent?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

There’s a moment of quiet, and I could let it be. I could just sit here and completely enjoy myself, staring at him until he’s ready to renegotiate that contract with me. Colt is focused on driving, so I’m watching all the different colored lights play across his face. But I’m curious about Colt. I want to know more about him.

“What position did you play?”

His eyes swing towards me, laughing. “You’ve seriously never heard of me?”

I shake my head. “No.” Should I know who he is? Is he famous or something?

“I played quarterback.”

“That’s the position my oldest brother plays.”

“Does he play for Washington High?”

“Yeah…”

“So you’re Luther’s big sis, eh?”

My blood chills—how does he know my brother? Is he a crazy stalker or something?

Stopping at a light, his eyes roam over me. “I don’t see the resemblance to be honest. No offense…”

“We have different fathers,” I croak out. In fact, all three of us do. Three deadbeat fathers between us, and there would probably be more if my mother was able to have more babies. “How do you know my brother?”

“I wouldn’t be a good agent if I didn’t scope out the local talent.”

I let a relieved breath hiss out between my teeth. “You’ve looked into him?”

“Yeah, he’s got a great arm. He’s caught a lot of eyes. Where’s he going for college?”

“He’s going to State, they offered him a full ride.”

“They’re lucky to have him. If he plays it smart, he’ll make it to the big league. Has he met with any agents?”

“I don’t know…” I’ve been too busy with work to keep up with Luther’s football stuff. I helped him with his college applications, but most of the stuff was worked out between him, the recruiters, and the coaches.

“Probably not. Is this the right street?” he asks, the car slowing.

We’re here already? I peek out the window, and sure enough, we’ve made it to my street. “Yeah, it’s the second building on the right.”

The car slowly rolls up to my building. He parks us at the curb but leaves the car idling.

I pick my bag up from the floor.

“Whitney…” he says, and the way he says my name feels heavy. Like there are so many unsaid feelings behind it—so many things he wants to say that could destroy me.

I’m afraid of what he wants from me. I’m not sophisticated enough, or experienced to play these kind of games. I know my strength and weaknesses—most of the time I’m painfully aware of them—and I know sleeping with men without getting attached is definitely not one of my strengths.

“Yes?” I ask, hesitantly. Please don’t offer me more money, please.

“How many hours a day do you work?”

“It depends…”

“More than eight?”

“Only four times a week.”

“You only work four days?”

“No, I work six. But I only pull doubles four days a week.”

“Have you ever tried to work somewhere else?”

I stiffen. I can’t tell if he’s intentionally trying to insult me or not. “Yes, but they were the only places willing to hire me.”

He shakes his head with disbelief. “I find that hard to believe…”

“Most places didn’t want to hire me because I was fifteen and a half when I originally applied.” Why does he care about my work history? What’s it to him? “Why are you even asking?”

He reaches out to touch me, his fingers brushing across my cheek as he frowns at me thoughtfully. “I want to offer you a job.”

My heart skips a beat. “You do?”

“Yes,” he says huskily and leans towards me. His eyes lock on my lips, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to kiss me. “I don’t know why but I want to take care of you.”

That pulls the breath right out of me. He wants to take care of me? Why would he say such a thing to me? We don’t even know each other. We just met last night for crying out loud. He doesn’t know me, the real me.

“You…” I start to say but his mouth covers mine suddenly, interrupting me.

He’s so damn warm, so damn sweet, I don’t even fight him. No, I find myself grabbing at his shirt, needing something to hold on to as he kisses me like our very lives depend upon it. It’s zero to sixty, blood pumping, tongues clashing—all or nothing.

He’s making love to me in the car with his mouth.

Somehow his seatbelt comes unbuckled and he’s pressing me back into my seat with his weight. He’s so hard, so firm, I feel like if I resist his weight I might snap beneath him. Each pull, each warm caress has my resistance melting more and more. My insides are dissolving into a warm puddle of goo, and all I can do is whimper and squirm.

Knees nudge at my knees and I’m opening for him. I don’t know how he does it, but he just slips past the wall I’ve built. If he’s not touching me, I feel like I just might make it—I’ll survive. But as soon as we touch, as soon as I’m sharing gravity with him, he’s making me weak. Somehow, someway, he’s my kryptonite, and I don’t even remember giving him such power.

A shrill whistle followed by a loud, obnoxious bout of hooting and hollering brings us back to reality. I feel like someone just yanked the ground out from underneath me and I’m crashing back down to reality.

Colt tears his mouth away from mine. Leaning back into his seat, he shoots a murderous glare through the windshield at the group of guys strolling past the car. The group laughs among themselves, insulting me with disgusting words not fit to repeat as they leisurely move along. Honestly, even though Colt looks fit to be tied- his face an angry beet red and his hands clenching with unspent aggression—I’m grateful for the interruption.

How the hell did I allow this to go this far?

Sometime during our kiss my bag slipped back down to the floor. I yank it back up and clutch it in my lap, needing something to hold on to. The bag helps me feel more grounded, and that’s exactly what I need to feel right now.

“Thanks for the ride,” I murmur and reach for the door handle.

Sucking in a deep breath, Colt rakes his fingers through his now-tousled hair. My fingers flex, wanting to run through it. “Let me walk you to your door.”

No. No freakin’ way, I think, and shake my head at him. “That won’t be necessary. Honestly, it’s better if you go…”

“Why?” he asks, his blue gaze swinging over to pierce right through me.

“Because…” I want you too much. Because you’re like a fucking dessert—you’re sweet and you taste delicious, but if I overindulge you’ll ruin me.

I can’t admit any of that though. I can’t.

“This isn’t the best neighborhood. Your car is drawing a lot of attention.”

“You’re worried about my car?” he asks with a lift of his brow and a smirk tugging at his lips.

I nod my head and pull the handle, pushing the door open. “Yes, just go ahead and take off. I’m fine, really. My door is right there.” I slide out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it.”

Hope I don’t see you around, I think, as I shut the car door.

His door pops open immediately and he hops out. Dammit.

“I insist,” he says as he strides confidently up to me. He reaches into his pocket and the car beeps twice, headlights flashing.

I’m too tired, too dazed after that amazing kiss, to think up any other excuses to keep him from walking me to my door.

I’ll just hurry… I’ll say goodbye, open the door really fast, and slip inside before anyone sees him.

He grabs me by the crook of the arm, pulling me close as he protectively escorts me to my front door.

“We still need to discuss my job offer.”

Dammit, I was hoping he forgot about that.

I force a smile. “Thanks, but I already have two jobs, I’m not looking for a third.”

Colt nods as if he understands. “You’ll need to quit your two other jobs.”

“I can’t just quit my jobs.”

“I’ll ensure you’re properly compensated. You’ll earn more from my offer than you could ever earn at the places you’re working for now.”

I have no doubt he’d pay me handsomely, but if I quit my jobs it would make me totally reliant upon him. Is that what he wants? To have complete control over me? To have me at his mercy… until he gets bored.

“Look…” I start to say, pulling away but then my front door suddenly opens.

“I thought I heard voices out here,” Luther says, head popping out and giving me the stink eye.

I don’t have an excuse or a cover for Colt’s escort—I’m surprised stupid. My mouth works but nothing comes out.

“Luther, how you doin’?” Colt asks with a grin.

The door flies all the way open. “Colt? Man, what are you doin’ here?”

Why is Colt acting like he knows my brother?

“I gave your sister a ride home.”

“You did?” Luther asks, his eyes narrowing. He looks at me with suspicion and it’s everything I can do not to squirm and look guiltier than I already do.

Because… what can I say? How did I meet Colt? Why is he with me? Where was I last night? Why is money suddenly no longer a problem? Luther is not stupid by any means, in fact, I’ve often thought my brothers are much more perceptive than anyone gives them credit for. And right now I can almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as he begins to put two and two together.

“Yeah, and I was just about to offer her a job before you interrupted us,” Colt grins easily at my brother.

“Yeah?” Luther asks, taken aback.

Oh god. He’s so not going to… he can’t…

I turn to Colt, looking at him in panic. Don’t. For the love of God don’t tell my brother you want to hire me on as your fucking mistress, my eyes plead with him. But he seems to be purposely ignoring me.

He leans casually against the building and nods. “Yeah. That cool with you?”

Luther’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of us, his gears still turning. I just want to die. I want a hole to open up in the ground and swallow me whole. Who the hell does Colt think he is? Does he get off on stuff like this? Is he that kind of guy?

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Luther finally nods his head, giving his permission.

What the fuck just happened? This cannot be real.

Colt grins and steps forward, he and Luther do this weird embracing thing where they grip each other’s arm and slap each other on the back. “It was good to see you again. We’ll probably be seeing more of each other.”

“Yeah,” Luther grins. “Good seeing you too. Take it easy, man.” He looks at me, and just gives me a nod of his head. “Thanks for taking care of my sister.”

I’m still dumbfounded so all I do is blink at Luther. And just like that, he steps back into the apartment, closing our front door behind him.

“So… about that job,” Colt drawls, giving me his full attention.

My fingers itch, now that my brother is gone I have the strongest urge to slap him. “What was that?” I hiss instead.

Colt frowns and straightens from his casual pose. “I know your brother through some booster work I did with the school. I thought it would be best I let him know my intentions so he doesn’t get the wrong impression.”

“Oh yeah, we wouldn’t want him to get the wrong impression,” I say with a lot of venom. And I’m so angry, I’m fighting back tears. I should have never let Colt give me a ride home. I knew something like this could happen but still I let him. I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Whitney…” Colt says and takes a step toward me.

“Don’t!” I snap, stopping him in his tracks.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

Why is he playing stupid? What is he getting out of all of this?

“You just told my brother! My brother of all people! I can’t believe you did that.”

“I told Luther I want to offer you a job, which is the truth…” Colt says slowly, carefully.

“Why? Why would you do that? Are you angry that I left this morning without your permission or something? Or do you just get off on hurting other people? Seriously, what did I do to deserve this?”

“I… You didn’t do…” Colt stammers and then stops. “Listen, I think this is just a misunderstanding…”

“You think?” I almost screech. “Of course it’s a misunderstanding! I thought you might actually be a decent guy but it turns out you’re actually a prick!”

“Whitney,” Colt frowns at me and steps forward. I bring up my hands to block him and take a step back, but he pursues me this time. Ignoring my hands, he grabs me by the arms. His grip is firm but not painful “It’s not what you think.”

I open my mouth but he talks quickly over me. “And I understand now what you’re thinking. It’s my fault, I should have explained it.” I open my mouth again and he snaps. “Just hear me out, okay?”

I snap my jaw shut and clench my teeth.

Colt takes a deep breath. “I want to offer you a job as my personal assistant, not my mistress.”

“Personal assistant?” I repeat, wondering if perhaps that’s just a title to cover his true intentions of making me his personal sex slave.

“Yes,” Colt confirms, sharply nodding his head. “You already know that I’m an agent, well I also have my own agency—and I’m in dire need of a good assistant. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you have integrity. I want to offer you the position.”

“You do?” I squeak as it all begins to make more sense.

“Yes. I’ll start you salaried, double what you’re making now.”

Oh my god. I just made a huge assumption, and made a gigantic ass out of myself.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe…”

Colt interrupts me. “I’ll bump it up to triple after your thirty-day review.”

I was going to say I can’t believe I’m so fucking stupid before he interrupted me, but now I’m saying, “Holy fuck.”

That’s a lot of money. That money could lift so many worries off of my back. At double or even triple my current salary, I could actually start saving.

“You don’t have to make a decision now. Think it over tonight and give me your answer in the morning.”

“I…”

“You’ve had a long day,” he says his voice getting huskier and his hands tightening on my arms. “I kept you up late.”

Bending down, his forehead presses against mine. He just stands there, touching me like that, breathing increased. I must admit just his touching my skin is incredibly pleasurable; I feel my shoulders relax as my blood is pumped full of endorphins.

“You should get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly.

“You really want to hire me as your assistant?” I ask, feeling incredibly relaxed against him but also still feeling like a huge jackass.

“Yes.”

“What does your assistant do?”

His soft lips curl at the corners. “My assistant assists me.”

I guess I was asking for that one. I roll my eyes and his hands squeeze me affectionately. “But it’s a real job? Not something you just made up to… you know, cover up something else you want from me.”

“It’s a real position, and I am in real need. I don’t usually mix business with pleasure…”

“Oh?”

“Yes, but I can’t help but make an exception for you.”

“Oh.” A new thought begins to form in my mind, one that makes me feel even sicker than the first. Is this job just charity? Does he feel sorry for me? Is this all being done out of pity?

“Just think about it, okay? I’ll pick you up in the morning…”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

I sigh and try to pull away but his fingers tighten around my arms. “Even if I want to accept your offer—and I’m not committing just yet— I can’t just quit without notice. I need to give them two weeks.”

“Relax,” he rumbles and his fingers release their grip. “I’ll take care of it.”

“But…”

His finger covers my lips. “Sshh. I got it.”

I shake my head and reach up to yank his finger away.

But he presses his finger harder and implores, “Trust me.”

If only it were that easy—just trust him. Put my faith in him and hope everything turns out okay in the end. But I’ve watched my mom trust and put all of her faith into men before and it never worked out in the end. My childhood—before I started working and taking care of us—was one long string of men that came into my mom’s life only to further destroy it. They’d move in with us and she’d stop working. Then, with no job and three kids to take care of, they’d leave and she’d scramble to find a job or someone else to support us.

But I can go into this knowing that. I can go into this knowing it’s not permanent, and plan accordingly by saving up every cent I earn. Maybe it will be enough to tide us over until both of my brothers are off in college. Then I can go to college myself…

“Okay,” I say softly.

Colt perks up, standing up a bit taller. “You’re going to trust me?”

It’s the hardest yes I’ve ever said but somehow I manage to push it past my lips, “Yes.”

For the time being, at least.