Page 44 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

But that will never happen, not in a million years. It’s impossible.

I’ll be grateful to spend a few hours with him by my side. That’s all an awkward, nerdy, frazzled twenty-something like me can hope for.

Now the only thing that remains to be seen is if I’ll have the courage to ask him for what I need.

Laurent

“Hey, man.” Cliff, a stacked, jowly bouncer who’s no less intimidating for his fifty-something years, inclines his chin at me as I’m about to head out for the night. “You got some ladies who want a word.”

Club patrons who want some private time with the dancers is not surprising. What is surprising is that Cliff would let any of them entertain the notion that I’m available.

I dance. On stage. That’s it.

That would be bad enough in my family’s eyes, if they knew what I was doing. There’s no way in hell that I’m going any farther than that.

Plenty of the club’s performers, male and females alike, are happy to. But not me.

“You know I don’t—“ I begin, but Cliff waves me off with a meaty hand.

“They said they just want to talk. They’ve got a job offer.” He shakes his head once. “No hanky panky.”

Hanky panky. That’s one way to put the, um, extra benefits some of the club’s customers desire.

“None?” I fix Cliff with a stern eye.

He shrugs. “That’s what they said.” He purses his lips. “They also said they’d pay, and that it’ll be easy money.”

I sigh. I can’t pass up easy money. “Okay,” I relent. “I’m in.”

Cliff nods to where a couple of women about my age are hovering by the front entrance, ignoring the bartender’s pointed glares that they haven’t yet vacated the premises.

Plastering a smile on my face, I stride from the staff entrance to the backstage area and cross the club to them.

“Hello,” I say in what I hope is a businesslike, no-nonsense, zero-shenanigans tone, “I heard I might be of assistance to you?”

“Ooh,” says the one in the little black dress and red lipstick, “he’s a gentleman.”

The other woman blushes, the green eyes behind her glasses looking everywhere but at me. “Of course he is,” she mutters.

I can’t help it. A smile tugs at my lips. Of course I’m a gentleman? That’s quite the assumption to make about a guy who pole dances in a sequined thong for a living.

“My friend needs some help,” says the first woman. “We were wondering if you could help her out.”

I arch a single brow. “We?”

The second woman finally meets my gaze, sticking out her chin, emerald eyes gleaming. “Me,” she says.

I take a moment to let my eyes rove her body. She’s got creamy skin and wild brambles for hair and curves I’d like to sink my hands into.

But best of all, there’s a peculiar look in her eye. A strange cocktail of confusion and confidence, with zero lust.

She looks at me like I’m a real man, a whole person, not just a piece of meat. It’s been far too long since a woman’s gazed at me like that. I don’t think it’s ever happened in this place.

The way she looks at me makes me feel like a human again.

I didn’t realize until this moment that I had been feeling less-than. She’s made me realize my mental state and has done something to heal it all at once.

The permanent knot that I’ve had in my stomach since returning home eases. Just a little, but it feels important.

---