Chapter Eleven
Laundry took the entire morning and half the afternoon, only because Kayla did most of the work. She kept reminding herself that it hadn’t been too long since the others were picking up her slack.
Once it was finally finished and everyone’s bags had been placed outside their rooms, she went in search of Mastema. She found him in the club, helping their sound engineer fix an electrical issue with the speakers.
“There you are.” He gave her an intimate kiss, pulling her into his arms right there in front of Jinn. Heat rose to Kayla’s face after he released her. “We’ll be a while yet. All done with laundry?”
“Yes, but you guys look busy so I should go and let you work.” How disappointing, but then again, he likely hadn’t known he’d be stuck doing this when he’d asked her to come and find him once she finished.
“You dancing tonight?” asked Jinn.
“No. I’m on the schedule for tomorrow.”
“You should consider a gimmick. Honey has her honey, Nightingale uses all those feathers—”
“Both of which make a holy fucking mess to clean up,” said Mastema, his voice hard. He glared at Jinn as he knelt again and picked up a wrench.
“I’m just sayin’ she should get a gimmick. Customers like that.”
“Chloe doesn’t have one,” said Kayla.
“She doesn’t need one,” said Jinn. “Not with those legs and her talent.”
“Kayla’s fine the way she is,” said Mastema. He tightened a bolt, and the wrench slipped free, clattering to the floor. “Son of a bitch!”
“The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Just shut the fuck up already about her needing a gimmick. Not all the dancers have them, and they do just fine.”
Jinn gave him an amused glance. “All right. Keep your fucking dick in your pants. I’ll shut up about it.” He picked up the wrench and handed it to Mastema. “Here. Think you can concentrate now and help me fix this, or should we put a sign out front, letting everyone know there won’t be any dancers on stage tonight?”
“Fuck you.”
Kayla glanced from one man to the other. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” Mastema shot her an apologetic glance, so she gave him a bright smile and a wink before she left the club.
He’d stuck up for her. The thought bounced around inside her head, all the way up to her room. Kayla had never had a boyfriend. Not a real one. She’d had casual sexual relationships, but they’d never lasted long because she’d always been afraid, or overly cautious. And, since those men worked at the bars or clubs where she danced, when things became uncomfortable at those places, she moved on and never saw the men again.
At twenty-five years old, it was ridiculous that Mastema was her first true boyfriend, but there it was. The simple truth. She hugged herself as she stood in front of the windows, overlooking the south parking lot. In a few hours, it would begin to fill up with customers.
What if she was wrong? What if her imagination was working overtime because of all the positive things that had happened to her lately? He was a nice man, and he stuck up for people all the time. She’d noticed it before today. Just because Jennie thought she and Mastema were an item didn’t make it true. What if she was building this whole thing up into something it wasn’t?
He asked you to fuck no one but him.
True, but that could simply be due to his jealousy. All she’d done was listen to Mark that day in the hallway, and he’d stopped speaking to her. Maybe him asking her that didn’t mean anything deeper?
It’s not as if she’d had plenty of relationships like this one for comparison. She had no fucking clue what she was doing here. She could dance, and she could fuck. And the latter was only fun and comfortable with Mastema. If his interest in her waned one day, would she move on? Would she be able to do that?
Kayla walked across the room and grasped the pole that Gorgon had recently had fitted in her room. Chloe had mentioned to him that Kayla loved how Chloe had turned her former bedroom into a rehearsal room, and wished she had a place to practice her own pole work, other than the stage. Within two days, he and a couple of the prospects had installed her very own pole.
She twirled on it a few times, but it was still difficult for her to get her body off the ground by more than a few inches. Although, to be fair, she was quite distracted at the moment.
What if Mastema grew tired of her to the point she had to leave this place? There weren’t any other clubs like this in Northeast Ohio. That much she knew. She’d have to leave the area to find another one as classy to work in, but she doubted there were many that also housed an MC club.
And even if they did, it would be more of the same as she’d experienced before coming here. Just another girl to pass around. One more dancer expected to fuck the guys. Even if she’d rather not.
“So what are your choices?” she whispered. She wasn’t being kicked out. No reason to think that even if he did grow tired of her she’d be asked to leave. If she’d kept up the diva routine over laundry she might have been, but that was behind her now.
It was back to what had her so rattled, then, and that was an easy answer. Mastema. She liked him way more than she should. Not only that, she was building up every word, every glance, every reaction into a relationship that went beyond a sexual one. All without any clue that Mastema wanted that with her.
What the fuck was wrong with her? One man, finally, after all the shitheads she’d met, showed her a bit of compassion, uttered a few kind words, and defended her in front of one of his Brothers. And suddenly she belonged to him? They would live happily ever after? One would think after all the crap she’d been through, fairy tales weren’t something she’d so easily believe in.
Maybe the best thing she could was to ease away from Mastema, before he hurt her? She didn’t want to leave here. But spending every free moment with him wasn’t a requirement. If she never let him discover how foolish her thoughts had been, she’d never have to watch him turn away from her in disgust. Or laugh at her. Or go to Gorgon and tell him he thought it best if she was let go.
That was the way of the world, after all. Keep people at a distance. Leave them first, before they have a chance to leave you. That was the only real way to protect yourself. Kayla had learned that at an early age, and there was no reason to believe it wasn’t just as true now.
****
Mastema knocked on Kayla’s door shortly before dinner, but she didn’t answer. He searched for her in the dining room, but she wasn’t there, either. Finally, keeping his voice as casual as possible, he asked Zipper if she knew where Kayla was.
“Nope. We finished laundry and she left.”
If he made an issue out of it, his Brothers would tease the shit out of him. Not that he wouldn’t survive it, but he didn’t want that shit to get back to Kayla. Not until he told her about Tina, and not before he had a chance to figure out whether her feelings for him extended beyond sex.
It wasn’t as if he could simply ask her. After all these years of fucking for no reason other than to fuck, Mastema was so gun-shy it was fucking ridiculous. He’d never admit that to anyone. Not for any reason.
And each time he imagined asking Kayla whether her feelings went beyond fucking, he also imagined her laughing at him, or at least wearing an expression that suggested she’d rather have any other conversation than that one. If his Brothers knew what a complete wuss he truly was, they’d strip off his patches and escort his sorry ass to the street.
With Tina, it had been so uncomplicated. Their mutual attraction had been instant and strong. There hadn’t been any need for dancing around the issue, or working himself into a state over whether she cared for him as much as he cared for her. She’d pursued him at the same speed he’d pursued her.
But that wouldn’t happen with Kayla. Her past kept her from trusting anyone. He didn’t need a fucking shrink to figure that out. And he hadn’t felt this way about any woman in eight years, so his equilibrium was off, to say the least. He had no fucking clue how to go about navigating this, whatever it was, they had together.
He only knew two things. He wanted Kayla like he hadn’t wanted anyone in a long time, and he would cut off his own arm before he’d hurt her.
Was that enough to sustain a relationship? Even with both of them so fucked up from what they’d each gone through? He had no fucking clue.
“Hey, you still with us? Or are you on the fucking moon right now?”
The laughter, in addition to Rahab tapping Mastema on the side of the head, got Mastema’s attention. “Fuck you!”
“Man, I just asked you three fucking questions in a row, but all you did was stare off into space.”
Mastema pushed his chair back and picked up his plate. “I’m done.”
More laughter followed him out of the room. Whatever. He put his plate and silverware in the kitchen, where Rai and Honey had already begun to wash the dinner dishes. After a moment’s debate, he asked them if they’d seen Kayla lately.
“She came down for food about a half hour ago,” said Honey. “Said she wanted to eat in her room.”
“Thanks.” He left before either of the women could pry. He’d had enough of being teased today.
As he walked down the hall on the third floor toward Kayla’s room, she came out, carrying a tray with half-eaten food on it. “Hey,” he said. “Missed you at dinner. I came up to check on you.”
Fuck. He sounded like a goddamn pathetic asshole.
“Oh.”
“So were you in there and just didn’t answer the door when I knocked?” Ouch.
“I might have been in the bathroom.”
Or, you might not have wanted to talk to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just wasn’t in the mood for group conversation tonight.”
“Yeah. I hear you.” She didn’t know who was knocking on the door, genius. You never spoke. They stood there, awkwardly staring at each other. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
“Oh, right. Yeah. You said that earlier.” She waited for him to speak.
“Not here in the hallway. In private.”
“Oh, okay.” Was that hesitation in her eyes? He’d been right. This was a huge fucking mistake. She was only interested in sex from him, not anything else. “Let me take this down and I’ll be right back. You want to wait in my room?”
If he backed out now, he’d look more fucking ridiculous than he had all day. “Sure. Okay.”
Confusion filled her face as she made her way toward the stairs. Why the hell had he come up here a second time? He was such a fucking chump. Now he’d be forced to tell her the truth, or make up something. What the fuck was wrong with him?