A deep set of dimples meets me.

“I can’t seem to get a drink at the table without being accosted,” Trent murmurs with a crooked smirk, leaning across the bar. “I have no idea why.”

I pull in a slow and wobbly breath. Don’t lose your cool around him, Kacey. For once! “Some people must find you very … accostable,” I respond as my insides liquefy. Christ! Even my nipples are hardening. Worse, through this thin black satin sheath dress, Trent will see them if he looks down.

“Is that even a word?” His eyes twinkle and I have to pace my breathing as my heart starts hammering against my ribs. Now that I’ve come to terms with the fact that the bastard is going to affect me whether I like it or not, he’s even hotter than before. Breathe, Kace.

“So, no more snake incidents?” he asks. If my cruelty the other day bothered him, either he’s gotten over it or he never cared to begin with. It’s a relief to my conscience in any case.

“No, Superman Tanner is on it.” In reality, Tanner has transformed into my mini-hero. While I showered at Storm’s and headed off to the gym that day, he secured our apartment like a dutiful pot-bellied guard dog, not leaving until the doors were in place and locked. And then Storm heard through the apartment’s grapevine that Tanner went to Pervie Pete’s apartment and tore a strip out of him, threatening to make a bowtie out of his balls if there’s ever another incident like that again. Tanner is turning out to be a mud-covered gem.

Trent places his drink on the counter. “So, would you mind accosting … er … pouring me a drink?”

My focus drops to the limes in front of me as I work to regain my composure. He’s flirting with me. I don’t remember how to do that. I don’t know if it’s all the flesh or music around us or the fact that, Storm’s right, he is sex on a stick, but suddenly I feel the urge to try. “That depends. Do you have I.D.?”

His elbows support him as he leans onto the bar, frowning playfully. “For a club soda?”

That catches me off guard. He sat in a strip club all night and he’s not drinking? I quickly gain my composure and shrug. “Suit yourself.” I pull the knife out of the drawer again and I begin slicing limes, my movements focused and slow so I don’t chop my shaking fingers off in his intense presence.

“Stubborn,” I hear him mutter as he slides his I.D. across the bar. With a curious grin, I pick it up. It’s hard to read it under the dim light, but I exaggerate with one closed lid as if I’m straining to read. “Trent Emerson. Six foot-three.” My gaze drives up and down the length of that gorgeous, hard torso, stopping at his belt. “Yeah, that’s about right. Blue eyes.” I don’t even have to look at them to know, but I do anyway, staring intently until I feel a blush creep in. “Yup. Born December thirty-first?” Two weeks after my birthday.

He smiles. “Almost a New Years baby.”

“1987. That makes you almost twenty-five?” Five years older than me. Not too old. Though if his I.D. said 1887 and he looked like that, I don’t think I’d care.

“Old enough for a club soda, I think,” he smirks, holding his hand out. I don’t give the I.D. back right away. Not before noting his address in Rochester. “You’re a long way from New York State,” I say as I slide it back across the bar and leave it for him to pick up.

“I needed a change.”

“Don’t we all?” I pour his drink. From my peripherals, I notice his eyes linger on my shoulder, and I self-consciously re-angle my body. I’m sure the scars all over my body would gross him out. Then again, he did see some of them already. Scratch that. All of them. This guy has seen me naked. Plenty of guys have seen me naked and I didn’t care. Trent seeing me naked though? My hand starts to shake.

“Feeling better tonight, Kace?”

I jolt at the voice, the blood draining from my face as Ben leans up against the bar next to me with a knowing smirk. He sticks his hand out. “Hey, I’m Ben. I saw you at the gym the other day when I was working out with Kacey.” The way he said “working out” makes my tongue slide back into my throat.

“Trent.” Trent is cordial enough, but I notice he stands up to his full height and the corners of his mouth flatten slightly. He’s big. Bigger than Ben even, though not as bulky.

“So who are you here for tonight, Trent? And last night? And the night before? Can’t be the dancers since you’re busy staring at Kacey the entire time.”

“Ben!” I bark, imagining poison daggers shooting from my pupils to stab him in the tongue.

He ignores me. “Yeah, Kacey talks about you all the time. She won’t shut up. It’s getting annoying.”

I slam the drink down onto the counter with a shaky hand, all the while mentally tearing Ben’s tongue out of his mouth and shoving it up his ass so he can get a firsthand taste of what an asshole he is.

“I highly doubt that.” With a soft chuckle, Trent takes his glass and steps away, a strange smirk on his face. “Better let you get back to work. Thanks for the drink.”

As soon as he’s turned, my hand rushes to Ben’s bicep to grab the muscle bulge and twist.

He howls and jumps back, but he’s grinning a split second later as he rubs the sore spot.

“What the hell was that?” I hiss.

He leans in close. “Life’s too short to play whatever stupid game you’re playing at, Kace. You guys are both into each other so stop screwing around.”

“Mind your own damn business, Ben.”

He leans in even closer, until his face is inches from mine. “I would if you hadn’t dragged me into the middle of this. Literally. And then kicked me out. Literally.” A pause. “Has he hurt you?”

I shake my head, knowing exactly what he’s getting at.

“Then get help for whatever issues you have and move on.” He grins mischievously. “Plus, I owed you. You gave me the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had. That should be your stage name.” Lewd eyes drift over my chest and back up. “Though I have to say it was worth it. Gave me plenty of mental images for when I’m alone.”

I throw a towel at him as he walks away, howling with laughter.

If only it were that simple, Ben.

***

At midnight, Trent is still there, sipping on his club sodas, and Storm is hounding me like a hyena around a carcass. “Go talk to him again.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult, Kacey?”

“Because I’m a difficult person.” I wipe the counter as I mutter quietly, “it can’t happen anyway.”

“Why not?”

I shake my head, my brow furrowing deeply. “It just can’t. He doesn’t deserve to get shoved out of a shower stall.”

“What?” I hear Storm exclaim, but I’m not listening. I don’t need Ben and Storm prodding me forward. My own internal urges are doing just fine battling with my will power. I really want to go talk to Trent. Stand next to him. Kiss him … Whatever switch I’ve relied on these past few years to block all appeal and make my life easy has failed me miserably, opening the doors to a flood of desire and emotions that I don’t know how to deal with.

“He’s too … good. And nice.”

“And you’re nice too. Once you stop trying to be a bitch.” The way she adds that last part, it’s as if she wasn’t planning on saying it out loud. I catch her eyes widen in a flash.

“Nicely done, Storm,” I commend her genuinely.

She sticks her tongue out at me. “He’s been sitting in a strip club all night, waiting for you.”

“Oh, the horror,” I mutter as I point to the stage where Skyla and Candy grind against each other.

“Who are you guys talking about?” A Greek goddess with breasts to rival Storm’s calls out as she places an order of drinks on her tray.

“Table thirty-two,” Storm says.

With a roll of her eyes, she ascertains, “That dude’s gay.”

“Then what’s he doing in Penny’s, Pepper?” Storm asks in a sweet tone.