Beyond What is Given(13)

“Very nice,” the manager drawled, his eyes lingering on Sam’s cleavage, where her shirt was unbuttoned. “Let me give this a once-over and see what I can do.” He reached across to take her application, and she leaned back before he could brush up against her. He shot her a sick smile, then headed back behind the stage.

Something dark twisted in my stomach and threatened to erupt. Sam turned in her seat, offering me her profile as she watched the girl on stage. Her strong, sure facade slipped, and her swollen eyes turned dim. She looked like I’d felt the morning after…yeah, not going there.

I slid onto the barstool next to her, and her shoulders dropped. “What do you want, Grayson?”

“To get you out of here.”

“I’m on an interview.” Her spine straightened.

“This is your dream job?” What the hell was she thinking?

She threw me a look that clearly said I was an idiot. What? Like I was the one about to audition as a stripper?

“You know what I realized the last couple weeks? I have no money. My savings account can cover one last month of my cell phone bill. I have no job to make money. No college degree to get the job. Even the jobs that don’t need a degree? All full. I’ve spent three weeks searching out every job in Enterprise, Daleville, and Dothan. No one is hiring. I’m not going to freeload off of you guys while I figure out what the hell to do.”

“So this is what you want to do in the meantime? Work here?”

Her gaze hit the floor. “It’s the last thing I want. But these girls make a lot of money, and it beats the alternative of moving back in with my mother.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to see what that pole class taught you, this is not where you belong, Sam.” Shit. That is not what I meant to say. Not the first part, at least. The girl on stage hooked her leg around the pole and spun.

She raised her eyebrow and smirked, sending a jolt of electricity through me that settled in my dick. I shifted my weight. “Well, there’s no one here harping on me to put on more clothes.” She toyed with the buttons on her blouse.

It would have been hot as hell, if she was doing it out of genuine interest in me. But she was proving a point, and I knew it. “Samantha.”

She flicked a button open, enough to glimpse the lacy white material of her bra contrasting beautifully against the light mocha of her skin, but I kept my eyes locked on hers. “What’s wrong? Don’t think I have what it takes? Just because you’re immovable doesn’t mean I can’t turn on at least one of those guys.” She nodded her head toward the guys hovering at the stage.

Immovable? Good thing she didn’t have a clue.

“You could turn on a statue, Samantha, and I’m not immovable, no matter how much I wish otherwise.” Shut the hell up before you say something else that’s going to get you in trouble.

Her lips parted and her eyes widened slightly, enough to see her defenses slide down a little. “Why do you do that? Call me Samantha?”

The music shifted to Porn Star Dancing, and the manager whistled at Sam like she was a Labrador retriever. My fist clenched. Sam looked from me to him and back again, clearly torn.

“I call you Samantha to remind myself that you’re not just a roommate but a woman, and to make sure I don’t jump to the wrong conclusions about you like the first time we met.” When I assumed you were sleeping with my roommates. “Don’t do this.”

Her eyes flickered, showing the uncertainty, the doubt. “You don’t control me,” she whispered.

“I’m not stupid enough to think that any force in this world could control you, Samantha. But I will remind you that in the last three weeks I have caught you off the kitchen counter and pulled you off a bar. That stage doesn’t scare me.” If she got anywhere close to it, I’d burn the damn thing to the ground without a second thought.

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “God, why is this so important to you?”

Because the thought of you taking your clothes off for money makes me want to rip every man in here to shreds for making it possible. “Because you’re in freefall, Sam. You can’t see it because you’re the one in mid-air. But you’re spiraling in the wrong direction.”

The manager waved his hands at Sam.

“I have to go.”

She hopped off the barstool, raised her chin, and headed for the stage. She didn’t make it two steps before I swung her over my shoulder. My fingers spread on the warm, bare skin of the back of her thighs to keep her still, and I tugged her skirt down to cover more of it. Then I grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “Grayson!”

“Hey, you can’t—” The bouncer stood in front of the door.

I glared at him, letting all of my fury show that a place like this even existed, and he stepped back. I pushed open the door and squinted as the dying sun hit me in the face.

“Fucking put me down, Grayson!” Sam shouted. Damn, she was loud. She braced her hands on my back, trying to get upright.

Her waist was tiny in my hands as I lowered her to my eye level. She was furious, her lips pursed and her eyes on fire. I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d take the fire over the defeat I’d seen in there any day.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted in my face, uncaring that we were inches apart.