Ten Tiny Breaths (Ten Tiny Breaths #1)

“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.

Pepper. Pshhh! Stupid name.

Pepper gives a lazy shrug. “China’s been workin’ him hard for a private dance, half off, and he won’t give. He’s keepin’ a close eye on Ben though.”

I bite my tongue before I explain that he won’t give because he doesn’t like dirty-ass sluts. I don’t know who this China is, but I want to rip her guts out. I’m not too fond of Pepper either. I should stalk over there and pee around his table to stake my claim. Wait ... what? Jeez, Kacey.

“He’s just waiting for his private show with Kacey later,” Storm offers and spins on her heels. I catch Pepper’s eyes narrow as she studies what she must see as cash-competition. I can’t tell what’s going on in that mind of hers. I doubt it can be much. I glare back at her all the same.

“Here.” Storm shoves a filled glass into my hand. “Go and talk to him again. You need a break anyway.”

“Fine.” I hiss. “But when we come back, we need to discuss my stage name. Maybe something like ‘Salt,’ or ‘Lollipop’ or ‘Pomegranate.’”

“I hear ‘Blue Balls’ might fit better,” Storm throws in with a sly wink.

I gasp, my finger jabbing the air pointedly at her and then searching the crowd for Ben, ready to cleave his tongue out.

“Don’t worry, he just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she whispers, all hints of joking gone. “I don’t judge. Your secret’s safe with me, you vixen.” I head toward the exit when Storm shouts, “Hey! How about Vixen as your stage name?”

I ignore her, sucking in a lungs worth of air as I lift the counter panel and walk through. I try not to fuss too much with my dress, but I do it all the same. Hell, just admit it, Kacey. Trent intimidates you. Just looking at him perched on his chair, leaning against the table, butterflies slam around inside my stomach. When it’s obvious that I’m heading straight for Trent, I notice him sit up straighter, like he might be a bit anxious too. That brings me small relief.

I place his club soda down on the table with a small smile. “What are the chances that you’re still here?”

“What are the chances, indeed.” He offers me a wry smile in return.

“A guy moves into a new town and spends every night at the local strip club. Alone.”

Trent doesn’t miss a beat. “… and finds two of his neighbors working behind the bar.”

I pick up his empty glass. “Storm has convinced me it will be a life-altering experience.”

His gaze skims the stage floor suggestively and I catch a flicker of disapproval in them. “I guess that depends on what you’re doing here.”

“No.” I quickly throw out. “Clothes on at all times. It’s mandatory.” I bite my lip. A little too eager to announce that, Kacey.

Trent considers my face for a moment and then he nods. “Good.”

I can’t help but drift to Trent’s lips when he says that, how they remain parted after, how soft they look. “Um …” I shake my head, trying to uncloud my thoughts. “So you’re not holding back on the strong stuff tonight, I see?”

He gives his drink a long, hard look. Another small smile. “Yeah, you better watch out. I get crazy when I drink this shit straight.”

I giggle. I giggle! “What do you drink when you’re not downing soda like a fiend?”

“Milk, water. The occasional Coke.”