Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(39)

I swatted her shoulder. “Bex,” I scolded.

I turned to Adam, who was staring at me with a small grin on his face.

“You don’t have to—”

“I work in a strip club. It means I see a lot of lookers,” he began, leaning against the bar. “It’s the God’s honest truth you are the sexiest gal I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he continued with a wink, his southern twang sharp.

I gaped at him. “Really?”

His smile got bigger. “Really darlin’,” he said firmly. He gave me one more look before going to serve a customer.

Bex whirled my stool around to face her. The motion made me slightly dizzy.

“See?” she snapped. “No matter what crazy thoughts are floating around in that pretty little head, you’re a ten. Adam doesn’t bullshit,” she told me firmly.

I raised my eyebrow at her. “Slathered in this much makeup, Fiona off Shrek would look like a supermodel,” I stated. “Plus, my you-know-what is almost showing in these shorts,” I added.

Bex rolled her eyes. “You’re twenty-three and not a virgin anymore. Call it what it is. Vagina. *. The word doesn’t bite,” she teased.

I didn’t answer, just sipped my vodka. “I’m not doing it,” I declared when she wouldn’t stop looking at me with that expectant stare.

Her shoulders sagged, but she wasn’t mad. She kissed my cheek. “Yeah, babe, thought that’d be your final answer. This place,” she waved her hands around, “isn’t you.” There wasn’t judgment or sarcasm in her voice, just something sad. It was quickly masked, and she propped up her boobs in a way every male in the immediate vicinity looked our way.

Bex was oblivious. “Gotta go make rent.” She blew me a kiss and winked, then strutted toward backstage.

I frowned at her back, something niggling at the back of my mind at her strange demeanor. Her eyes had been darting around everywhere, and she seemed more hyped than she’d been in the car. The thought was quickly lost. I leaned on my chair, saving myself at the last minute when I realized my chair had no back, because it was a bar stool. That would’ve been embarrassing. I leaned forward, plonking my elbows on the bar, putting my chin in my hands and chewing on my straw with my mouth. While I did that, I also chewed over Bex’s words.

“This place, it isn’t you.”

“Who am I?” I half whispered to myself.

I asked that question, that pivotal question of my identity and was coming up blank. I didn’t know who I was without my mom to be loud to counteract my quiet. Without me to tamp down her eccentricity. I took care of her. Even before the cancer, I was the responsible one. She was a great mom, but her unique spirit meant she didn’t ride me about homework, curfews, or anything. It meant she didn’t think like other moms. I was responsible. I did homework. I made dinner for us when she’d locked herself away in her studio. We were a team. I was her partner. That’s who I was. Up until now. Now I was no one. So why couldn’t I be the girl who danced with her girlfriend at a strip club? Why couldn’t I let go of all of my inhibitions that had crippled me half my life? What’s the worst that could happen? I’d already had the worse—hit rock bottom.

“What was that, babe?” Adam’s voice made me jump and I met his dancing eyes.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, not needing the hot bartender to know I was talking to myself.

Adam knew me a little. Well, as well as someone as hot as him could know a girl like me. I barely spoke to him on the rare occasion I came here to hang out with Bex. More like she dragged me here when I’d been cooped up in my room for too long studying, or staring at hospital walls. Staring at strip club walls wasn’t much better, but it did serve to take my mind off things. The girls were nice, Adam was the only bartender that spoke to me, all the other males in the joint leered. Including her boss, who made me feel more than a little uncomfortable. Luckily I’d flown under their radar, thanks to the fact I near shrunk into myself every time they tried to talk to me. They quickly lost interest, in a mousy mute.

So, because Adam knew me, his eyes softened slightly. “Want me to call you a cab?” he asked, having to yell over the music.

I did want him to call a cab. I wanted to go home to our four walls with crumbling paint and pretty posters and fairy lights. Though the pictures that decorated those same walls hindered me, that and the promise of solitude. I usually loved it. Now being alone with my thoughts was the last thing I needed. I was worried the silence my own thoughts offered would swallow me up. Plus, Asher was coming. As much as I knew he would mess up my brain, how the attachment I felt to him was unhealthy, my drunken mind didn’t need to focus too hard on that. Only the promise of his touch, his presence. I’d been talking to him on the phone every single day. He’d patiently waited for me to be ready for more. I wanted it. Craved it. But something stopped me. Something that didn’t seem important right now.

“Nah, I’m good,” I grinned at him drunkenly.

He gave me a long look then scanned the room quickly. “You stay here during Becky’s routine, ‘kay darlin’?” he ordered. “Big crowd tonight, a lot of rowdy men lettin’ loose. You’re a sweet girl who’s had a drink too many, it’s like blood in the water to these sharks,” he told me seriously.