Page 42 of Killer Kiss

“Nobody wants to see me in a G-string, kid,” Terry called out from his usual stool by the door. “Not unless it’s Halloween.”

“Not even then,” I murmured.

Eve shoved my arm as she got off the stage. “Do you have to always be such an asshole?”

“I honestly don’t know any other way.”

That at least gave her a small laugh. “I know.”

We walked shoulder to shoulder into the changing room, with Lyric trailing behind us.

“I’m sorry about the dance class.” I opened my locker, putting my bag inside. “That’s really shit. I’m going out to put up more missing posters next week. I can put up some class posters too. I’m sure it’s just because nobody knows about it yet.”

“Or it’s because nobody thinks a couple of strippers from the slums can actually teach a respectable dance class.” Lyric’s voice was sharp, the chip she’d always had on her shoulder on full display. “That posh class in the city that teaches pole is full every night of the week.”

I wanted to disagree with her, but she was possibly right. I’d seen the dance studio she was talking about. It was all bright lights and mirrors where kids took ballet and tap classes during the day. The teachers were all perky cheerleader types, probably named Brittney or Chantelle.

It wasn’t a scummy old strip joint with classes run by two women who were amazing dancers but hadn’t even finished high school.

“Fuck those rich assholes,” I practically growled.

I wasn’t only talking about the people who turned their noses up at those of us from the Saint View side of the border. Ophelia could go to fucking hell. She was exactly why I hated people with money. They were all so fucking privileged. Imagine being so full of yourself you thought you could just walk on into someone else’s house and accuse them of the sorts of acts that made my stomach churn.

She was the one who’d come in here and told me to sit my ass down because my efforts at finding her sister weren’t good enough. And yet she was wasting time looking in my direction when Eve and I had already told her it was Eddie who had Fawn.

Fuck her. Fuck her for not believing us. She was just another rich white person who thought she knew better than us broke-ass losers from Saint View.

I unzipped my gym bag so fucking viciously the zipper broke off in my fingers. But on top was a pink stuffed elephant, a little ballerina’s tutu around its belly. My fingers hovered over it for a second, and I glanced over my shoulder. Lyric had moved out to the area off the change rooms that we used to warm up, leaving only me and Eve on the benches. I forced myself to pick up the elephant and thrust it in Eve’s direction. “Here.”

Eve glanced over, her eyes widening when she took in the little elephant. She reached for it, and I let her take it before burying my head in my locker again.

“What’s this?” she asked.

I sneaked a peek in her direction. She turned the toy over with a small smile pulling at her lips.

I shrugged. “Nothing. I dunno. I walked past a market today while I was putting posters up and thought you could give it to the baby. You know. When you have one.”

Her gaze snapped up to meet mine. “I’m not even pregnant yet.”

I raised an eyebrow at the woman who had made no secret of the fact she and Boston were fucking at every given chance, on every available surface, trying to make a baby. “I don’t think it’s gonna take too long.”

Eve chuckled as she leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’m kind of old to be a first-time mom, so I really hope you’re right. We’re having fun trying though.”

I wrinkled my nose and shoved her gently away. “For the five hundredth time, I don’t want to know.”

But I was happy for her. She’d spent too many nights caring for everyone but herself. It was her time.

Though I’d never tell anyone, I was sort of looking forward to having a baby around here. We needed something, anything, to bring some light back into our lives.

I wanted Fawn to be here to see Eve as a mother. Fawn would be the best aunty.

Unlike her older sister who probably ate babies for dinner.

I took off my clothes, trying not to think about the way Ophelia’s gaze had wandered all over my body earlier. I was glad Eve had left because my dick gave a twitch of appreciation at the memory of Ophelia’s body pressed beneath mine.

I had to force myself to think about everything that had happened afterward in order to get my dick under control.

Not bothering with underwear, I pulled on a low-slung pair of jeans that showed off the V lines either side of my hips, and the dark-blond trail of hair that started beneath my belly button and disappeared beneath my fly. Women loved both, and these jeans always brought a lot of tips.

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