Page 70 of After Midnight

“Yeah. That’s true.” I take another bite of burrito, turning Nora’s words over in my head. I guess I’ve been afraid to straight up ask her, worried that it’d change things or put too much pressure on her.

“I saw that photo of you two,” Nora says, voice soft, the way it usually is. “Was she okay with it?”

I tip my head, then wince as Lucas eats shit trying to do an ollie. He spews a string of curse words as Dex laughs.

“Yes and no,” I say. “I don’t think she really cared, but it made her nervous, like it would change something between us.”

“I get that.” Done with her tacos now, Nora squishes the foil into a little ball, which she rolls between her hands as she says, “I felt a bit like that with Dex too. Like all the outside voices were going to change how he felt about me, or put so much pressure on us that everything would just collapse. It’s been a lot to adjust to. I’m still not very good at dealing with it.” She reaches up to tuck a strand of long light brown hair behind her ear, and the engagement ring on her finger catches the sunset light.

“What helped?” I ask. “How can I make her feel better about it?”

Nora turns, smiling up at me. “Just be there, reassure her that you don’t care about all that. If she knows she’s what’s important to you and that you don’t care what anyone else is saying, it’ll help.”

My lips curve up in a smile, and I reach out an arm, slinging it around Nora’s small shoulders and pulling her in, wedging her against my side in a tight hug. “You’re the best. Also, have I ever told you how cute you are?”

“I will kick your ass, Harris,” Dex says as he skates by, narrowing his blue eyes at me.

But Nora wraps her arms around my middle and squeezes me back. “You are too, Seb.” She leans back to look up at me, her lips tipping up on one side. “So, are you gonna stop being scared and invite her to come visit?”

Arm still wrapped around Nora’s shoulders, I watch Lucas climb back onto his board despite a cut that’s bleeding on his forearm. As he skates by, I think of him and Alisha, how things seem to be deteriorating for them, even if he won’t tell me why.

And I really don’t want that to happen with Remi. Part of me wants to keep her—us—safe in our quiet little world. But we can’t live in a Vegas fantasyland forever.

My gaze goes to the soft California sky, streaked with orange and dark pink and a bit of deep purple. I want Remi to see this. I want to introduce her to my friends and show her my world.

And I really hope she’ll want to be part of it.

chapter 30

Remi

BACKSTAGE AT CALIBER, THE MUSIC is muffled through the walls; the deep vibrations thump through my chest as I open my locker and reach for my water bottle. I take a long drink, then go to put the bottle back, but my eyes catch on my cell, and I’m reminded yet again of the unanswered text waiting for me.

It’s a selfie of Sebastian, a half-eaten foil-wrapped burrito held in one hand, his brown eyes illuminated by the setting sun. And under the photo is the text I still don’t know how I’m going to respond to.

We’ve got a show next week. Wanna come? D

It sounds innocent enough, but it means so much more than the words can communicate.

Seb is asking me to come to his home, to step into his world. He’s asking me to leave Vegas and venture into something unknown.

And usually, I’m not afraid of the unknown. I’ve done some ballsy shit in my life, not least of all stepping onto a stage to strip for the very first time. Boarding a plane and flying an hour to Cali shouldn’t scare me this much.

But it’s what will be waiting there when I land that has my stomach all twisted in knots.

Seb. His place in Malibu. Maybe even a life I’m going to want to spend more time in—which I really can’t do right now. I love my life here, love my job and my condo and everything I’ve built for myself. And I still have the goal of getting Riley’s tuition covered for her freshman year at Caltech, which is barreling toward us at the speed of a shiny new Bugatti.

I can’t allow myself to lose focus. And besides, I work next week—like I do every week—so it’s not going to matter anyway. I won’t be able to go to his show.

Heart feeling heavy, I sigh and close my locker.

I really need to stop thinking about this and focus on my job. It’s a Friday night, so James will be here soon. Usually, I’m excited to see him, knowing I always get a cash bonus when he’s here for private dance time with me. But ever since his observation that I was distracted during the lap dance, I’ve felt like there’s an extra weight on my shoulders. I need to show him tonight that I’m fully engaged, or else he might determine that he’d rather start booking private rooms with one of the other girls, like Fantasique or Bunny or Shania. And then I’d be out a few hundred dollars a week, which definitely isn’t going to help me hit my financial goals.

Trying to get my head in the game, I go to the big mirror with the lights shining down and touch up my hair and makeup, then adjust the skimpy royal blue lingerie set I’m wearing and wipe a scuff from my platform heel before pushing my shoulders back and striding out onto the floor.

James watches me through lazy eyes, sipping his gin slowly, like he’s not in any rush. I’m trying hard to make this dance super fucking good, mostly to make up for my distraction last time he was in and ensure I’m the dancer he keeps paying when he comes to Caliber.

I hold his pale blue gaze as I reach back and unhook my top, then make a show of slowly letting the material fall away, exposing my breasts in the dim red light. His eyes slide down, and he follows my movement as I run my hands over my tits, squeezing and massaging them, then tease my pierced nipples, just enough to get them hard. I can tell he’s not hard though. He’s lounging on the couch, legs open, and there’s no pressure pushing against his zipper, no bulging hard-on straining for me.