He jerked. “Dance? You want to fuckin’ dance at Compass?”
“Well, yeah. I’m a dancer. I worked for one of the best modern dancers in the industry.” I’d never be famous like David, but I loved it more than anything. Modern dance was like telling a story. There were no rules to it, just movement to the emotion of the story and the music. Dancing had helped me through the difficult times in my life, and I wasn’t giving up on it. I may be inexperienced at dancing in a nightclub, but I was more than capable.
“Brett isn’t hiring you,” Killian ground out. “And you don’t fit the job description.”
Wow. That made me feel like a bug he’d just stomped on. “You can just say it, Killian. I don’t fit the ‘standard’ appearance of a dancer.”
“Savvy, don’t jump to conclusions. You know I’m not like that.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’m sorry. This was a stupid idea.” I hurried past him and headed for the door.
“Savvy.”
I put my hand on the doorknob to open it when his palm hit the door above my head, clicking it closed again. “Savvy, stop.”
I couldn’t look at him. I knew my cheeks had to be the same color as my bright red curls and I just wanted to escape before he saw how mortified I was.
“It has nothing to do with your looks,” he said quietly. “The exact opposite.”
Before I realized my mistake, I turned to face him. Now, I had my back against the door with his hard, broad chest in front of me and his arm over the top as he dipped his head to peer down at me. Even though there wasn’t a part of him that touched me, it sure as hell felt like it.
“Savvy.” The way he said my name in a low sexy growl…. “I’ll help you in any way I can, but you dancing at Compass can’t happen. Do you need a place to stay for a while?”
“No, I have a place.” It wasn’t the nicest apartment and nothing like the one I’d shared with David in Yorkville, but I had a roof over my head. Although, I wasn’t sure for how much longer as I owed two months’ rent.
“Money?” he asked.
I felt sick to my stomach. Literally, sick. I may be here asking him for a recommendation with the owner of the club, but I had my pride and I’d worked hard my entire life. An array of jobs to pay for dance classes while I moved from foster home to foster home for almost three years.
I didn’t come to Killian because he was famous and had money.
“I don’t want your money.” I yanked on the door. Of course, I was upset and didn’t turn the handle first so it wouldn’t open, and then I panicked and yanked harder.
He sighed, his hand leaving the top of the door so it flung open and I was catapulted back into his chest. His hands instantly settled on my shoulders to steady me, and the pulse between my thighs jolted.
“Savvy, wait.”
I turned to peer over my shoulder at him, and my belly nosedived as his lips were inches away from mine.
“Jesus, you don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find another way to get an interview.”
His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “Compass is off-limits.” I didn’t know why he was so adamant about it, but maybe he didn’t like the club. “And you shouldn’t have come to see me.”
God, I’d never expected him to say that. I thought maybe he’d say he didn’t know Brett well enough to ask him or that he didn’t feel comfortable asking, but to out and out say I couldn’t work there? And that I shouldn’t have come here?
Well, it looked like I was either applying at other clubs or finding another way to get into Compass.
I raised my chin and met his hardened eyes. “I’m sorry I snuck into your concert. Take care, Killian.” And just like that day he kissed me, I rushed off before he could say anything more. But this time, I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder at him as I pushed on the metal bar of the fire exit door.
I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just kept going. I knew before our gazes clashed that his eyes were on me because I had these little heated tingles.
He stood in the doorway, hands gripping the frame above his head with the familiar angry glare. But it was different now, softer. No, not softer, quieter. Controlled.
Killian Kane may fool the media into thinking he was a nice guy, but I wasn’t so sure.
I watched Savvy as she pushed open the fire exit door. The moonlight shimmered off her red curls hanging down the left side of her face before the door shut and she disappeared from sight.
Shit. I slammed my fist into the doorframe.
What the hell was she doing?
Christ, she wanted to dance at Compass. Savvy didn’t belong in a nightclub dancing in front of a bunch of drunk assholes who were thinking about her naked.
No chance in hell was that happening. Not while air still filled my lungs.
It was completely illogical. Insane. And uncalled for, but Savvy Grady couldn’t pop back into my life then expect me to help her get a job at a club dancing. Not only a club, but a club I’d invested in and half-owned. Although, she wouldn’t know that. I was a silent partner for reasons that I didn’t advertise. Not yet anyway.
I ran my hand back and forth over my head then down my face. Fuck, hearing her lyrical voice dripping like honey as she’d said my name was like the wall I’d put up around me splintered and lay at her feet. She barely pronounced the harsh K, so it sounded like ‘Illian. Fuck, I missed that. I missed everything about her—exactly the reason I’d stayed away from her in high school until I didn’t, and that led to a kiss that had screwed with my head for the last eleven years.