Maybe Grayson Mills wasn’t meant for me after all.

I grab my bag, filled with my makeup and shoes, and head toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Anaya asks, popping a grape into her mouth. Most nights, she’s at Paul’s, but on the occasions she’s home, she thinks I work at a bar. I get dressed at the club, so I’m just wearing jeans and a black top.

“Work. I have to go or I’ll be late,” I say. I usually catch a cab, but today Diamond said she will come and get me.

“Want me to give you a lift? I haven’t even seen this place you work at,” she says casually, staring at the TV screen.

I cringe. Yeah, that won’t be happening. Ever. “No thanks, a co-worker is giving me a ride,” I tell her.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yup, bye,” I say, walking out the door. Diamond is waiting in her fancy black car, music pumping. I open the passenger door and slide in. She turns the volume down a little.

“Ready for work, Snow?” she says, smiling wide.

Her smile is infectious. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We pull up to Toxic and walk in through the back door. “How long have you been a Toxic Girl, Diamond?” I ask her as we walk into the change rooms.

She tilts her head, thinking. “A few years now. About three and a half.”

“How long are you going to do it?” I ask, pulling my jeans and top off, standing there in my bra and underwear. I’m no longer modest with my body, at least when I come here anyway.

“As long as I still have the looks for it,” she says, giggling. “The money is good, and to be honest, I like the attention.”

I wish I felt the same way. I dress in all white tonight, a sheer white baby doll dress, thong, thigh high stockings and garters. They like it when I play on the ‘snow’ theme, and with my red lipstick, I look like an ice princess.

“Shit, I gotta borrow those shoes,” Diamond says, eyeing my white stilettos with envy.

I laugh. “My feet are two sizes smaller than yours.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can make them fit, don’t you worry. I can Cinderella that shit.”

“Cinderella or her evil step-sisters?” I joke, earning me a playful swat on my ass. Diamond gets on stage, and I take a few moments to mentally prepare myself for the night.

You won’t be doing this forever.

Pay your bills. Pay your debt. Then it will be all over and done with.

I sigh dramatically when I see a missed call from my sister, London. I have no idea what she could possibly be calling about, so I put off returning her call. I love my sister, but I don’t necessarily like her. Truth be told, she’s the reason I have this huge debt. It’s her debt. She borrowed the money from an ex-boyfriend of hers and when my sister left, refusing to pay him back, he threatened to hurt her. He came over to our house looking for her, and I was with her. It wasn’t pretty. He trashed the house and verbally abused the shit out of her. She tried to hit him in return, and he slapped her across the face. He was lifting his fist to punch her when I jumped on him and screamed that I would get him the money.

Luckily, he said he liked me enough to allow me to pay him back in instalments. Apparently, it pays to be nice to one of your sister’s many men. The debt started out at twenty thousand dollars, and is now down to ten. Half to go. I should feel proud of myself, but I don’t. I just feel tired, and I want everything over and done with.

I strut toward the private dance booth, hating this part of the night. It sucks that it’s also the part where I make the most money. “Hypnotize” by Gemini plays as I dance for a gentleman dressed in a suit. He probably came here straight after work. I step closer to him, pulling down the straps of my baby doll dress. He pulls me closer, trying to get me to straddle him. “No touching,” I tell him, my tone sharp.

“Oh, come on, I’ll make it worth your while,” he slurs, his eyes staring at my breasts greedily.

It doesn’t matter how much he offers me, I won’t be crossing this line. I shake my head. “No touching,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow.

He lifts his hands in the air in mock surrender, and then tells me to turn around and continue dancing. I do as I’m told, hating every second of it. Finally, the song ends, and I exhale in relief. However, as he stands up he pushes me up against the wall, his hardness rubbing against my ass. “That’s it,” he croons. I elbow him in the stomach, and then stick my head out of the door, signalling the bouncer on duty. He quickly comes in, and I tell him what happened. He grabs the man and escorts him out. I lean back against the wall, breathing heavily, my pulse racing.

Yeah, I can’t wait until I can turn my back on Snow forever.

“How long are you going to ignore me?” Grayson asks from next to me, sounding exasperated. I’m sitting at my lunch spot. It’s been a week since we last spoke properly, and not from his lack of trying. He sent me three bouquets of flowers, stopped by my house with food, and walked me home after classes. I haven’t said more than a few lines to him in all that time, mainly ‘no thanks’ and ‘why are you still here?’ He’s really making this hard. I’ve wanted to forgive him on many occasions, but for some reason I’m not willing to let him in. It’s easier in the long run if we end this—whatever it is we had. I shrug at his question and stare straight ahead. “How long do you expect me to chase after you, Paris?”

I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t expect you to do anything.”

“So you don’t care if I go out with another woman?” he asks, his voice a little strained. The thought physically hurts, but I don’t show him any weakness. If he wants to do that then go ahead. That means he wasn’t meant for me anyway.

“You can do what you want, Grayson,” I say without emotion.

He curses. “All this because I went away for a few days without telling you? Do I have to report to you or something?” he snaps.

Wow. Taken aback, I turn to look at him. “That’s not it, and you know it,” I grit, my jaw clenched. “But if you’re going to be an asshole, then please just leave.”

“Well, you won’t let me talk to you about it, so I can’t even explain,” he says, looking frustrated. I don’t know why, but I can’t help but feel like he has a guilty air about him. Am I going crazy? I don’t want to turn into one of those women who questions everything their man does because deep down they know that they can’t trust him. Yeah—that’s never going to be me.

“Paris, I’m sorry,” he says, his dark brown eyes pleading. My gaze lowers to his mouth. I haven’t seen his dimples since the night we almost made love. I miss them—like fucking crazy.

“Okay, I’m listening,” I say, looking directly at him.

His shoulders drop as he sighs. “After what happened with us… Look, I want you. More than anything. There’s something about you, we just… fit. I had to go away last minute with my dad on business, and I thought I’d take that time to gather my thoughts. I know I should have told you, but I was confused and...” he trails off, searching for words. “Will you give me another chance?”

After a few tense moments of silence, I speak. “You were confused? What about exactly?” I ask. If he thinks he’s going to get away with some evasive half-assed apology, he has another thing coming.

His eyes dart away, and his hand runs over his head. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone before,” he says after a few tense moments. “I’m at a loss, Paris. I don’t want to make a mess of things, but that’s all I seem to be able to do.”

I exhale deeply, watching him as he keeps his head down.

“I’m not perfect,” he says.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect,” I mutter. And I don’t. I’d appreciate some honesty though. I cringe at the thought. How hypocritical of me. What the hell am I doing here? This whole thing is one huge clusterfuck. I stand up and clear my throat so he looks at me.