Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance (24 page)

“
L
et
’s play the question game,” I suggested. I liked being able to ask her anything, without her being able to avoid the subject.

“Sure,” she said. “You start.”

“How many kids do you want?” I asked.

“Maybe like four or five. What about you?”

“I think two is enough,” I said.

“I like kids,” she said. “I always wanted brothers and sisters to play with.”

I agreed. “Your turn,” I said.

“What’s your biggest fear?” she asked.

I thought for a second. “Probably something bad happening to my mom. Or spiders. I really hate spiders. You?”

“Being buried alive,” she answered immediately.

I laughed. “That’s such an irrational fear.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be afraid of it happening.”

“I promise,” I said. “When you are presumed dead, I will double check before you can be buried.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a peck on the cheek.

“What do you want to do for a job?” I asked. I knew she was stressed about her future, so I didn’t ask many questions but I was curious.

“I want to be a teacher. And I’d like to be a cheer coach, too.”

“I know that, but are you planning on applying for jobs right away?”

She hesitated. “To be honest, I want to know where you’re going first. I don’t really have ties to any one place in particular, and I can be a teacher anywhere. If I can choose where I want to live, I want to choose wherever you are. Is that okay?”

That was more than okay. I had been wondering how to bring up this topic with her. I knew she was fiercely independent and didn’t want to insult her by asking her to follow me around. I just couldn’t bear the thought of her not being close to me.

A life with me wouldn’t always be easy. If I couldn’t get on a team this year, I wouldn’t have much money coming in. I didn’t think the two of us could get by on a teacher’s salary. Especially since Alexa had a lifestyle that required more cash.

“I would love for you to come with me. Nothing would make me happier. I just want to make sure you know what you’re in for. There could be a lot of money, or there could be no money at all. I might not be around a lot. Is that something you can handle?”

“That’s not a problem,” she said. “You’re the most important thing to me. I want to make this relationship work.”

“What if you don’t get a job right away?” I asked. “If I go pro, you can travel to my games. You could try out for the cheer team.”

“That would be fun,” she said.

The thought of Alexa being on the sideline while I played pro games was better than I ever imagined in my future fantasy. Eventually, she would get tired of going to all of the games and want to start a career. Then what? Marriage? Kids? I was so lost in my daydream that I didn’t even hear her question.

“Martin, did you hear me? I wanted to know what your least favorite foods are. If we’re going to live together, I need to know what I shouldn’t buy from the grocery store.”

I could see her smile in the moonlight coming through the window blinds.

“I hate bananas. I love just about everything else. We’re going to be doing a lot of grocery shopping. When I lived at home, my mom went three times a week.”

“Oh, great,” she laughed. “What did I get myself into?”

“What would your dream house look like?” I asked when it was my turn. “I need to know in case I get a million dollar contract.”

“It doesn’t have to be too big, but I want a nice backyard,” she said. “I want to be able to plant flowers and fruits and vegetables. I also want lemon trees everywhere. There has to be plenty of open space for a soccer and football field. Maybe a concrete slab for playing basketball or tennis. Oh, and a fence so we can get a few dogs.”

“Is that all?” I chuckled. “What kind of dogs?”

“I like Corgis. They have cute little legs.”

“I like Golden retrievers,” I interjected. “We can get one of each.”

“Perfect,” she said.

Things were happening so quickly, but I wasn’t even scared. I used to shudder at the prospect of marriage or starting a family. Now, I could see myself doing so in the next few years.

For now, I just wanted to have fun with Alexa. We could travel to places I’ve never been before and explore new things. I could teach her everything there was to know about the sports she never got to play, and she could teach me all about the places and cultures she experienced in her youth.

“Do you feel like you’ll be missing out on the professional athlete lifestyle now that you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

“What lifestyle?”

“You know,” she said. “You always hear crazy stories about athletes that party hard and have sex with a models and actresses. I bet you could have that if I wasn’t hanging around.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “That typically happens to the players that either didn’t have anything growing up, or had too much and were never told no. I witnessed first hand what happened to my dad. He couldn’t control his partying and spending habits. I promise you that that lifestyle is the last thing I want. I just want to be normal.”

“But if you could be famous,” she said, “There might be some perks involved. Don’t tell me you don’t want to get into the hottest parties and mingle with celebrities.”

“Only if you’re by my side,” I said. “You’ll be able to navigate that world much better than I ever could.”

“My turn,” I said. “Where’s the last place you would want to move?”

“Florida,” she said instantly. “I love the beach, but the humidity does terrible things to my hair. I would look like a fluff ball all the time.”

“Same,” I laughed. “I’m not so concerned about my hair, but I hate the heat. That’s another reason why I want to go back to Colorado.”

We giggled. We disagreed about a lot of stuff, so I really loved it when we were on the same page.

“Just so you know,” I said. “I’m projected to go to New York or Washington. It’s not a sure thing, but if a pro team picks me up, it’ll most likely be either of those states.”

She grinned. “I can work with that.”

We heard a commotion from across the hall. It sounded like someone fell off the bed. We burst out laughing.

“Do you think Sasha and Reg will last?” I asked.

“I hope so,” she said. “They’re a lot of fun together.”

“Can you imagine what their kids would be like? They would be absolutely wild.”

“They would be impossible to control,” Alexa added.

“I think Reg is going to make his decision on where he’s going based on where Sasha is. Originally, he was going to follow Sam or I, but he’s totally hooked on her.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said. “He’s always followed her around like a puppy.”

We were quiet again, trying to think of a question we’ve never asked each other.

“What do you think Sebastian’s doing right now?” I wondered aloud.

“Oh, Sebastian,” she sighed. “I hope I haven’t caused him to go into hiding. There’s got to be a girl out there that’s out of options and needs to marry rich. Maybe my mom should just marry him since she’s so in love with him.”

“Then your dad and my mom could get together,” I said. “He could supply the money, and she could be completely normal!”

“Yeah, but then we’d be siblings. I don’t think I’m okay with that,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ve heard of weirder things.”

“Me, too,” she said. “You would be shocked at all of the inbreeding that happens in my world.”

“Seriously? I thought that was just for hillbillies.”

“Nope,” she said. “When marrying for money and connections is a requirement, there are only so many options. I know families where multiple siblings in one family marry siblings from another family. And weird affairs that result in secret love-children happen all the time. It can be hard to connect a family tree.”

“Aren’t you excited to get away from all that?”

“Incredibly. But I think it’s always going to be a part of me. I don’t think I can just pretend that I didn’t grow up with money. I was without my parents’ credit card for just a couple months and I didn’t think I was going to survive.”

“You don’t have any tangled bloodlines, right?” I asked.

“I don’t believe so. My dad was an outsider.”

“Did your grandma treat him like your mom treated me?”

“No, but he had money by the time they met. Maybe I should have introduced you after you get your multimillion dollar contract and starting position.”

“That reminds me,” I said. “I have a present for you.”

“You didn’t have to spend any money on me,” she protested. “I didn’t get you anything. Now I feel bad.”

“It’s nothing,” I said. “But I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I want to give this to you.”

I reached under the bed for the box, but I couldn’t find it. I crawled out of bed and searched on my hands and knees. Finally, I found the tiny box and extended it out to her.

She gasped, wide eyed. I could see tears beginning to form, but she had a slight smile. It took me a moment to realize what she thought it was.

“Oh, God, no,” I stuttered. “I’m not proposing. We’ve been together for less than six months. It’s my championship ring. I want you to have it.”

I opened the box and placed the giant ring in her hand.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “This is a big deal.”

“I don’t wear rings and I don’t want it to sit on a shelf getting dusty. If you want to, you can wear it on a chain, like a necklace.”

“I love it,” she gushed. “Thank you.”

I felt my heart rate slow back down to normal. I hope she wasn’t disappointed that it wasn’t an engagement ring. I needed more money for that. I knew I was going to ask her to marry me one day- I was certain of that.

She was the most incredible person I knew. She was smart, funny, and sexy as hell. I wanted to give her the world, and I knew she wanted the same for me. Every day with Alexa was an adventure. We were learning new things about each other every day and she was constantly surprising me. I never wanted it to end.

“
A
ria
, you had better be in there tapping into your sexy side. I know it’s buried in there, somewhere,” my best friend Ella called to me through my closed bedroom door.

“That’s right, and if I come in there, I had better not find you studying,” my cousin Jasmine added in a perfect imitation of my father.

At this, all three of my friends, who have been patiently waiting for me to join the festivities, burst into peels of laughter. I can’t even allow myself to be offended because if finals week of my senior year hadn’t ended today, studying is exactly what I would be doing. But school is finally over, and even though I’m not very enthusiastic about it, my friends are waiting for me to get ready so they can take me out for my bachelorette party.

I sigh, but resist the temptation to tell them, one more time, that they really don’t need to do this for me. I adore Ella, but she can be relentless. She was always urging me to close the books and party more. Ella is great fun and I have known her since freshman orientation, but she is single-minded in her focus on having a good time and making sure everyone around her is having one as well.

Ella is the only person besides Xavier that can force me to stop studying for an evening. But, it has been such a long time since Xavier has shown any interest in romance that I’m not sure I can still include him on that list. There are the occasional work parties and client dinners that require me on his arm, but they are more about putting on a performance than a romantic night out as a couple.

Even the work events are becoming less frequent. He didn’t invite me to his office holiday party this year. I asked him about it and he turned the whole thing back around on me: he knew I was going home to see my family; I didn’t have a good time at the last party; I had finals to study for. Xavier is always quick to point out how busy I am with school and how considerate he is about it. But I would've made time for the party, so it hurt that he didn’t even bother to ask.

I shouldn’t be so hard on him. I know he is busy and he is going to be the youngest person ever to make partner at his law firm. And it’s not just because his father is a managing partner, but also because Xavier is good at what he does. I know once he feels more secure in his position at work and stops worrying about people assuming nepotism got him his job, things will get better with us. After the wedding, there will be so much more time for just the two of us.

Stop worrying
, I tell myself. It’s my bachelorette party and my best friends are waiting for me. I am going to have a good time tonight and things will be so much better with Xavier once we’re married.

Now, I just have to find something fabulous to wear tonight. Because I know if I don’t come out of my room looking sexy, Ella will force me back in to my closet and then pick something out for me that will have me tugging the hemline down the entire night.

I do a quick run through of my clothing and settle on a pair of skinny jeans and a cute lacy top that I bought the last time I visited my parents at their ranch outside of Austin. I strip down to my bra and panties and then immediately second-guess my choice.

Tonight is my celebration, and in a couple of weeks my life will change like night to day. I need to dress up for a real party and make up for all the nights I missed out on because of school and Xavier. My cousin is here for the first time without both of our mothers in tow. My friend London just broke up with her boyfriend and needs a night out almost as much as I do. Ella, however, is someone who doesn’t need a reason to go out and is always the life of the party.

As I dig through my closet yet again, I am finally getting excited about tonight. The girls won’t tell me where we’re going, but I am sure it will be somewhere amazing. Tonight, I am going to order my first cosmopolitan. I have wanted to try one ever since I saw an episode of
Sex and the City
as a teenager.

“Why aren’t you ready?” Ella demands.

I hadn’t heard her come up behind me and just about jumped out of my skin.

“You scared me,” I gasp, my heart still pounding.

She has a nearly empty martini glass in her hand containing something that smelled strongly of gin. Ella smacks my ass and passes a dismissive glance over the outfit I am still holding.

“You are not leaving the house in something so
good girl
,” she declares.

I laugh because it is such an Ella thing to say.

“It is not
good girl,
and I can’t believe you just slapped my behind.”

“I can’t believe you’re thinking of wearing this,” she snorts. “We’re in New York City, not Kansas.”

Ella looks fantastic in a white skater mini dress and over-the-knee boots. She obviously expects me to wear something similar. I watch silently as she flips rapidly through my closet and comments on every item.

“No, no, possible, no, my grandmother wouldn’t wear this. You have nothing appropriate for a night out,” she accuses me while trolling the racks.

“Wait, what is this? It’s cute. I think we may have a winner.”

She holds the promising dress up, still on the hanger.

“Aria. I do declare, I think this dress will be absolutely perfect,” she says in her best southern accent. I roll my eyes, used to her mimicking my Texas twang by now.

The dress she picked is a little black slip dress with a plunging back and a high cut neck. I purchased it last year for a lingerie party. The party was at London’s sorority and was billed as the biggest night of the year. I ended up skipping the party, but I never returned the dress. I have been secretly waiting for the perfect opportunity to wear it.

“Mission accomplished,” Ella said to Jasmine and London as she started to leave my room.

“And don’t you dare come out without heels on,” she called back to me.

I stuck my tongue out at her retreating back, but knew she was right. She may be bossy but she has great fashion sense.

I slip the dress on over my head and brush out my dark hair. My hair is my one real vanity and I always wear it long and straight, at least to the middle of my back. I apply lip-gloss, a swipe of blush on each cheek, and black mascara. I slip on the heels and give myself a final once over in the mirror. I am so glad I kept this dress. The silk drapes to perfection on my body and feels sleek against my skin. The heels already hurt but I tell myself the pain is worth it because of how long my legs look in them.

I walk into the living room and all three women give a cheer.

“Gorgeous! Now get over here for a picture,” Jasmine waves me over to where they are standing. We crowd close together and London holds out her phone for a group selfie.

“Cheese,” we yell out together, posing for the camera.

The Uber driver is waiting for us when we get to the lobby of our apartment building. Ella has splurged for UberSelect and the car is a silver Mercedes SUV. Tony the doorman gives us a whistle of appreciation and opens the door with a flourish.

“You ladies be safe tonight,” he says as he helps us into the waiting Mercedes.

We cross over the Brooklyn Bridge and after a few blocks, the Mercedes rolls to a stop and the driver helps us out of the car. “You have to be joking,” I exclaim after reading the marquee three times to make sure I haven’t gotten it wrong. The driver must have made a mistake and dropped us at the wrong club.

But no, it looks like this is the right place, judging from their reaction at my disbelief. Ella is using her phone to snap pictures of me and keeps saying, “Your face is priceless.” Jasmine and London are laughing and telling her she needs to send the photos to Xavier.

“Not a joke,” she says, trying to catch her breath from laughing.

“This is where we are having your bachelorette party and this is where you are going to get good and drunk and have the absolute best night of your life.”

Jasmine and London clap and cheer.

“Now let’s go see some man candy!”

Ella links her arm in mine and we do a model strut up to the velvet rope, which is manned by a hulking guy in a tux.

“Ladies. Welcome to
Mantropolis,"
he manages to say with a straight face.

Ella on her tiptoes, pulls the doorman down a good ten inches to whisper into his ear. I watch as she slips something into his palm. It must have been a good tip or her phone number because the velvet rope opens for us. The next thing I know, we are whisked inside and sitting at a table right next to the stage. I have a glass of champagne in my hand and Jasmine is already waving over a waiter to order more drinks. At least, I think that’s what she’s doing. I can’t hear what she's saying over the noise of the club, and the waiter is wearing nothing except for a pair of tiny red spandex shorts. I am suddenly afraid that he is a dancer and she is ordering me a lap dance instead of more champagne.

This is my first time in a male strip club, or any strip club for that matter. I don’t know the protocol or if this is standard attire for servers. I try not to look at his bare chest and bulging shorts and instead focus on emptying my glass of champagne. I breathe a sigh of relief when he leaves. When he returns moments later, it is with a round of tequila shots and a bottle of champagne on ice. Looking around, I can now confirm that tiny shorts are the uniform of waiters at
Mantropolis
.

My friends lift their shot glasses and wait expectantly for me to do the same. I haven’t done shots since attending a party at Xavier’s fraternity when I was a senior in high school. The night ended with me throwing up all over Xavier in front of his friends. I felt so sick and embarrassed the morning after that I promised myself I would never do shots again. I have kept that promise until now. I look at my friends’ excited faces and I know I can’t disappoint them.
When in Rome,
I tell myself, as I raise my glass.

“To Aria,” they shout.

“To all of you,” I say back.

I don’t allow any time for second thoughts and swallow the shot in one gulp. The tequila burns all the way down to my stomach. I forget about the lime and salt and instead grab a new glass of champagne and drink it down to chase away the taste of the tequila. The alcohol hits me instantly. My body warms up and I feel tingly all over. When our waiter returns with more champagne, I no longer find it so difficult to look at him. He lets us know that his name is Mark and that he will be taking care of us this evening. Now that I have a little liquid courage, I can see that Mark fills out his red shorts quite nicely.

A new round of shots arrives and everyone lets loose a cheer. This night out with the girls is exactly what I need. And the fact it happens to be in a strip club just makes it more entertaining. So far, it’s not much different from a regular club. I’m about to get married, so I convince myself I can handle some shirtless men and spandex. I pick up the new shot; it smells like lime and has whipped cream on the top. This should be much better than the tequila. Ella, Jasmine, and London follow my lead and raise their glasses.

“To the best night ever,” we call out and throw back our glasses.

As if on cue, the music comes on and the women in the club go absolutely wild. Every eye in the place is fixed on the stage. That is, except mine. I am sitting with my back to the performers and I have to take a deep breath for courage before I turn around. I don’t know what I expect to see, but it must be something good to have transformed all these women into a bunch of screaming tweens at a Justin Bieber
concert.

The dancers on the stage are dressed like construction workers. I look them over and even though they're fully dressed, I can feel the heat rising up to my neck and face. They are dancing in synchronization and I can’t look away. I am mesmerized by how they move their bodies and how excited I am. All together, the dancers drop to the floor and start to grind on invisible women and the audience goes crazy. It is dazzling and I keep looking from dancer to dancer, anticipating what they are going to do next.

The women simultaneously erupt into even louder cheers. A new dancer is on the stage and he has the women going wild. Two minutes ago, I would have said that it was impossible for the crowd to get more excited, but this new dancer is tall and tan and unbelievably sexy. He has the crowd whipped into a frenzy before he’s even started stripping.

He has on a white tank and tight, ripped jeans. He is the perfect union of blue-collar bad boy and sex. He starts to dance and it’s like he’s making love to every woman in the club. I am glued to his every move as he brings the music to life with his performance. The song switches to a slow and rhythmic classic that I can’t quite place but know I’ve heard. His dancing becomes more sensual with the new song. He is scanning the crowd, looking for something, or someone. He stops searching when his gaze fixes on me. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I wonder if he can see me blushing all the way from the stage? He still has his emerald green eyes locked on mine, all while hundreds of women surround him, clamoring for his attention.

He smiles at me from the stage and time stands still. He is still holding my gaze and I imagine he is dancing only for me. Keeping our connection, he rips his shirt off and reveals a waxed and chiseled torso. His abs must be at least a 10-pack and they taper into a V that draws my, and every woman’s, attention to the promise of what is under his low-slung jeans.

Ella and London are among the women who left the tables to crowd at the end of the stage. Jasmine is sitting across from me with her mouth agape.

He comes down the stage steps and women are cheering and raining money on him. The dancer is coming toward me, and I want to look away but can’t. He grinds his hips as he approaches my table and stops directly in front of me. He is so close that I can reach out and touch him if I want to. And oh boy, I really want to. He grips the back of my chair with his hands on either side of my head. We stare at each other; he is looking down and I am looking up. A sexy smile slowly spreads across his face.

From a million miles away, I can hear Jasmine yell, “Go Aria!”