Page 44 of Clinch'd

Minnie: It’s going. How’s things there?

Lorri: They’re good. I quit my job though

Minnie: Lorri…

Lorri: Don't worry, I have something lined up

Minnie: That’s what you always say. I was hoping you could help with the bills this month

Lorri: And I will promise

Minnie: I hope so

She doesn’t respond and with a fucking headache brewing I lean my head into my palm and consider my options. I’m losing weeks’ worth of wages to be here which is a lot when we live hand to mouth as it is. Lorri doesn’t care so much about bills because she knows I’m going to pay them even if she doesn't.

But it's hard to do without the actual cash and for the first time in years, I might have to pick what I’m willing to live without until I can catch up. A depressing thought to be sure.

When we were kids, something was always shut off, because Mom didn’t care about cable when she was flying high. And when she was in her lows, she couldn’t be bothered with hot fucking water or heat. We spent many an adventure finding ways to make do and even at that age, I vowed I wouldn’t have the same damn outlook on life. And I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m not struggling. I let her poor choices dictate my path andnow I’m a fucking waitress with a minimum wage job. While I’m not ashamed of it, I am tired of standing on my feet all day.

Maybe I need to find a more lucrative waitressing gig though, because the tips are shit and the clientele drops almost daily.

I don’t know. I don’t fucking know but I regret my fucking life as I sit on the stool and stare into my drink.

What a sad fucking sack, I think, before spinning on the barstool and perusing my surroundings. I’m being melodramatic and I resolve to put away the issue of my fucking future for another day. After all, I may not live to see it anyway. Har-fucking-har.

A high-pitched squeal brings my head around and I spy Cooper with a new chick. Grimly I smile because it would seem it didn't take him long to move on. He really was using me, which does nothing for my dark fucking thoughts. Maybe I am dull, and maybe I need to move out of my comfort zone and do something different, because what I’m doing now isn’t fucking working.

With a militant glare at Cooper who’s oblivious to my presence, I search the damn club before landing on a group of guys near the dance floor and away from the VIP area. They’ll do nicely and resolved to fucking forget; I make my way their direction before sidling up to the booth with a smile.

I may be reserved and fucking boring now, but once upon a time, I knew how to party. Hell, it was the only thing that numbed the pain of being a homeless urchin with no options but to beg or steal. To be clear, I excelled at both. But when I finally pulled myself out of the ditch I was living in, I wanted to be different and I knew whoever that might be, it would have to be the opposite of my damn mother. Following in her footsteps would only send me to an early grave, and I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

“Hey,” I say with a smile, dropping my eyes to the table. It’s perfectly awkward because I hate this type of behavior, but I’m not above it if it means I show the fucking masses that I’m desirable, too.

“Hey,” the one to my right says, raising his brows.

“Wanna dance?” I ask, biting my lip and suppressing a smirk when his eyes darken.

“Sure,” he says, giving his bros a wide smile before he grabs my hand and pulls me into the crowd.

Dick thinks he's getting an easy lay, and I’ll let him for now if it means I can lose myself.

“What’s your name?” he shouts over the music.

“Victoria,” I lie, tossing my hair and giving him a wide smile. “What’s yours?”

“Chuck,” he says, rubbing his dick against my ass.

With a wicked smirk, I wrap my arms around his neck and lean back with a sigh. He grinds into me heavily while I move to the beat, lost to the sensation as the music slides through my veins.

I used to love to dance and thought maybe I could one day be a prima ballerina until my mother tried to enroll me in classes and the instructor laughed in her face before showing us to the door. I gave up on dance after that, but I’ve never lost my passion for the movement and sound.

Music makes you feel. Hate. Love. Need. I feel it all, where normally I would shove it below the surface and wait for a rainy day to let it loose.

“You’re beautiful,” Chuck says, nuzzling into my shoulder. Ignoring him and the flash of irritation at his lies, I turn my head away and meet Cooper’s icy cold stare.

He’s standing at the railing, with his hands wrapped around the metal. Where Chuck couldn't create a tingle, Cooper with hisrage creates a deluge. My core tightens painfully and I whimper when he raises a brow.

Chuck pulls me close, bucking into my core, and staring into Cooper’s heated eyes, I writhe against him, my mouth dropping open on a moan. It’s so fucking hot to know he’s watching me, that he needs while I take.

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