Ten Tiny Breaths (12 page)

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Authors: K.A. Tucker

Tags: #romance, #love, #loss, #tragedy, #contemporary, #new adult

BOOK: Ten Tiny Breaths
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“That sweet southern bell thing is all an
act, isn’t it?”

The smirk morphs into an innocent pout. “I
reckon I don’t know what you could possibly mean,” she drawls,
fanning herself with a dish cloth.

Somehow, whether it’s her teasing or her
obvious ecstatic mood over wearing me down, my face splits into a
grin.

“Halleluiah! Look at that! Miss Kacey is
smilin’ again!” She presses the back of her hand against her
forehead. “Ain’t it a blessed sight?”

She flinches as the piece of lime I pelt at
her hits her thigh. But then I follow up with a deep bow. “Teach
me, you must. Become great, I will.”

Storm gives me a playful shove and then goes
back to serve the next guy, while a sudden flurry of nervous
activity erupts inside me.
Oh God, what have I agreed to?
My
hands go to my abdomen.
One … two… three …
I concentrate on
inhaling and exhaling. I’m not used to this feeling. It’s awful and
stressful and if I accept it, exhilarating. I lean down to put the
knife back in its safety drawer and stand to move toward the bar
exit.

A deep set of dimples meets me.

“I can’t seem to get a drink at the table
without being accosted,” Trent murmurs with a crooked smirk,
leaning across the bar. “I have no idea why.”

I pull in a slow and wobbly breath.
Don’t
lose your cool around him, Kacey
.
For once!
“Some people
must find you very … accostable,” I respond as my insides liquefy.
Christ! Even my nipples are hardening.
Worse, through this
thin black satin sheath dress, Trent will see them if he looks
down.

“Is that even a word?” His eyes twinkle and I
have to pace my breathing as my heart starts hammering against my
ribs. Now that I’ve come to terms with the fact that the bastard is
going to affect me whether I like it or not, he’s even hotter than
before.
Breathe, Kace.

“So, no more snake incidents?” he asks. If my
cruelty the other day bothered him, either he’s gotten over it or
he never cared to begin with. It’s a relief to my conscience in any
case.

“No, Superman Tanner is on it.” In reality,
Tanner has transformed into my mini-hero. While I showered at
Storm’s and headed off to the gym that day, he secured our
apartment like a dutiful pot-bellied guard dog, not leaving until
the doors were in place and locked. And then Storm heard through
the apartment’s grapevine that Tanner went to Pervie Pete’s
apartment and tore a strip out of him, threatening to make a bowtie
out of his balls if there’s ever another incident like that again.
Tanner is turning out to be a mud-covered gem.

Trent places his drink on the counter. “So,
would you mind accosting … er … pouring me a drink?”

My focus drops to the limes in front of me as
I work to regain my composure. He’s flirting with me. I don’t
remember how to do that. I don’t know if it’s all the flesh or
music around us or the fact that, Storm’s right, he
is
sex
on a stick, but suddenly I feel the urge to try. “That depends. Do
you have I.D.?”

His elbows support him as he leans onto the
bar, frowning playfully. “For a club soda?”

That catches me off guard. He sat in a strip
club all night and he’s not
drinking
? I quickly gain my
composure and shrug. “Suit yourself.” I pull the knife out of the
drawer again and I begin slicing limes, my movements focused and
slow so I don’t chop my shaking fingers off in his intense
presence.

“Stubborn,” I hear him mutter as he slides
his I.D. across the bar. With a curious grin, I pick it up. It’s
hard to read it under the dim light, but I exaggerate with one
closed lid as if I’m straining to read. “Trent Emerson. Six
foot-three.” My gaze drives up and down the length of that
gorgeous, hard torso, stopping at his belt. “Yeah, that’s about
right. Blue eyes.” I don’t even have to look at them to know, but I
do anyway, staring intently until I feel a blush creep in. “Yup.
Born December thirty-first?” Two weeks after my birthday.

He smiles. “Almost a New Years baby.”

“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
.

I frown. “No beer? JD? Tequila?”

He shakes his head as he takes the straw
between his lips, a flash of seriousness smoothing his grin. “Don’t
touch the stuff anymore.” His eyes slide up to meet mine and they
stay there for a moment. “I like being fully aware of everything
that’s happening.”

Fully aware. Really, Trent? You want to
know that my thong is drenched right now?
I lick my lips
without thinking, attracting his attention to my mouth. Heat rises
through my body, crawling up my neck, down my back, along my
thighs. “I … um …”

Thankfully, he breaks the awkwardness. “So
what brings you to Miami?”

“Change of scenery?” I offer his earlier
excuse, silently praying that he won’t press me with any personal
questions. Right now, I think I’d sing like a canary. Anything to
keep him talking to me. Mercifully, Trent doesn’t press.

“Have you changed your mind, sweetheart?” A
lusty voice says behind me, interrupting us. I turn to find a fake
redhead moving in. She’s just tall enough to prop her voluptuous
breasts onto the table in front of Trent. I watch as a red claw
runs down the length of Trent’s muscular forearm. This must be
China.

A part of me wants to spin around and slam
the bottom of my heel into her head. In kickboxing, we’d call that
a Spinning Back Kick. Here, it’s called, “how to get my crazy
jealous ass fired.” There’s no way I’d get a thumbs up from Cain on
that one.

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