Trashy (Take It Off #10)(24)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I winced. “That’s basically a crime against good meat,” I said as I chewed.

She laughed and started to eat.

“So how did you end up a business man?” she asked.

I rolled with the topic change because I knew trying to talk about the note and her ex wouldn’t go so well. Besides, it was a conversation we needed to have in private.

“You mean how the hell did I end up owning a strip club?” I rephrased the question.

“Yeah.” Roxie grinned.

“It sort of just happened.” I shrugged, thinking about where my life was supposed to go.

She tilted her head and waited for me to continue. I worked on making up the rest of my fajitas as I talked.

“I used to play football.”

“Like in high school?” she asked.

I nodded. “I started in sixth grade. Played all through high school. It was my entire life.”

I still remembered the rush I got every time I ran out onto the field, the crowd was roaring from the stands.

“Were you any good?”

“Was I any good?” I scoffed. “I was the fucking bomb.”

“Were you now?” she asked, amused.

“I wanted to go pro, be in the NFL.”

“I had no idea,” she said, picking up her soda to sip at it.

I shrugged. “I don’t talk about it much.”

“So what happened?”

“I got a full ride to LSU. Got tapped by them before I even graduated high school. The plan was to go to college, make a name for myself on the field, and get drafted before I even completed my degree.”

“You went to LSU?” she asked.

“For almost two years,” I said, abandoning my plate and thinking back to the moment that changed my life forever. Most people can’t pinpoint the exact time nothing would ever be the same again. But I could. “I got injured, tore my ACL, had to have some surgeries. My dream of the NFL went down the drain the second I heard that tendon snap.”

“Adam,” Roxie said, her voice full of empathy.

“I lost my scholarship. My first wife… It was a dark period in my life,” I said, not wanting to relive those first few weeks when I realized I wouldn’t be playing football again.

“You were married in college?” she asked.

I nodded. “Married my high school sweetheart. I was the quarterback; she was the head cheerleader. She came to LSU with me and we got married. Turns out she didn’t really love me. She only loved the future NFL pro. When she realized that wasn’t going to be in my future, she decided she wasn’t going to be either.”

“What a bitch,” Roxie said.

I grinned. “So I left college, took a bunch of business classes, and moved here. I bought the Mad Hatter not too long after, and here I am.”

“It must have been a lot of work to make the club as successful as it is today,” Roxie said, giving me a smile.

I shoved the rest of the last fajita into my mouth and regarded her as I chewed. After I swallowed, I said, “I don’t shy away from hard work. If I want something, I won’t stop until it’s mine.”

And I want you.

By the fine blush that spread across her cheeks, I knew she caught my double meaning.

At least she couldn’t say I didn’t warn her.

17

Roxie

He wouldn’t stop calling.

He was getting more persistent. I knew by the way Adam looked at me he was suspicious.

Why wouldn’t Craig just go away? He made me feel claustrophobic, like I couldn’t breathe, like I could barely move.

All I wanted was for him to let me go so I could fully move on. It seemed like every time I took two steps forward, he’d pull me back one. I felt like a hamster on a wheel, running and running but never getting anywhere.

I was tired.

It was hard to sit across from Adam and fully enjoy spending time with him, because my inner thoughts kept thinking about my past and how it was bleeding into my present and threatening my future.

After we finished lunch, we parted ways, Adam going home to change out of his jeans and T-shirt and me coming home to change as well. Harlow still wasn’t home when I got here. She must have been getting ready for work at Cam’s today.

Being in this empty apartment was slightly unnerving. All I could think about was last night and how Craig followed me.

Don’t let him take away your home. I willed myself.

I would not let Craig make me scared to be here.

I had a little time before I needed to be back at the club, so I plugged in a large-barrel curling iron to let it heat while I got dressed. For my first night as acting manager of the Mad Hatter, I put on a fitted black skirt that was short enough to look sexy, but not short enough to be unprofessional. Maybe this skirt wouldn’t have been appropriate if I worked at a bank, but I didn’t. I worked at a strip club, and even as manager, I wanted to look good.

Over the skirt, I added a fitted white tank top and a black lace T-shirt. I put on my black heels and then went in the bathroom to apply some makeup and attack my hair. Getting my dark, straight strands to hold a curl was challenging, sometimes impossible. Harlow taught me a trick though to help, and I pulled out a can of setting spray. As I sectioned off lengths of hair, I spritzed it with the spray and then wound my hair around the heated barrel. After holding it in place for long seconds, I slid it out to reveal and perfect spiral. I sprayed it with even more spray and then let it cool as I went to work repeating the process over and over until all my strands were curled.

When I was done and all the curls were cooled and the hairspray was dry, I flipped my head upside down and loosened the coils with my fingertips. Amazingly, I achieved the effect I was going for. Large, loose, shiny curls fell over my shoulders and back. I really hoped the style held tonight.

I wanted to look pretty. For Adam.

After giving my hair yet another squirt of hairspray, I added some deep-pink lipstick, smiling a little remembering how Adam had looked with it smeared on his mouth.

Before heading for the door, I grabbed a cropped, lightweight red jacket that looked like leather but wasn’t and slid it on. My hair took longer than I thought it would, so I rushed toward the door, not wanting to be late.

I flung open the door to rush outside but stopped short when I nearly collided with something standing in the doorway of the apartment.

I gasped loudly as my heart leapt into my throat. My hand gripped the wooden doorframe to keep myself from tumbling over with the force of my halt.

It was Craig.

He looked at me through dark lashes. “Hey, baby.”