Songs for this chapter:
• Strip That Down - Liam Payne & Quavo
• Heaven - Julia Michaels
Chapter One Hundred and Twelve:
Bryce's POV
"So, how was that?"
I look over my shoulder to find Blossom approaching me from behind.
I blink dumbly at her.
She places her hands on my shoulders and leans in to look at my lap, partially obscured by the tissue she tossed at me.
Unfortunately not obscured enough, though, as Blossom lets out a soft giggle before squeezing my shoulders gently.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she says, teasing.
She then reaches into my lap and lifts up the tissue. She smiles at the lipstick mark before gently tucking the tissue into my pocket.
After Blossom left the stage, another song began to play and several other dancers flooded the stage wearing the same lingerie as the two girls who were on stage with Blossom. Blossom was only the start of the big performance of the evening, but since she left the stage all of the songs have been prerecorded and the performance just isn't nearly as captivating now that Blossom has left.
"The show will be over soon, and then there will be plenty of girls over here hoping to bring you back to a private room for some . . . fun. Everyone was talking about a celebrity guest we were having tonight in the dressing room earlier. They're all hoping to be the one who catches your eye," Blossom whispers to me. Her voice is just barely audible over the booming music and cheering of dozens of horny men.
"Trust me," I respond. "I've already been offered a lap dance twice."
Blossom's face is suddenly crestfallen.
"Oh? I didn't realize you guys had been here long enough to go into two private sessions. Which kind of room did you go into?" she asks.
I can hear the despair in her voice, and the sound makes me shudder.
"No, no, I didn't say yes. They went to talk to Richard and his friends instead. I'd prefer to not engage in anything like that. I'm just not comfortable with the idea, and so I'm just here to watch. Richard invited me, and I would've felt bad saying no, so I invited Jordan and Mateo to come along," I explain to her softly.
Her expression immediately softens and I watch as the tension slowly drops from her shoulders.
"Okay. Thank you," she whispers.
I smile at her and pat my lap. "Sit with me for a little bit before you have to get back to work. Do you work until closing? I'd like to stay so I can talk to you once you're done."
Blossom gently steps around my chair and settles herself into my lap. I keep my hands at my sides, feeling weird about the fact that she's wearing so little clothes while being this close to me.
As though she can sense my awkwardness, she reaches for my wrists and settles my arms around her waist for me.
She leans back into my chest and rests her head on my shoulder. "There," she whispers, her lips brushing the stubble of my jaw. "No other girls will bother you now. It's one of the rules us girls have. If one of us has the attention of a man, we don't interfere. And I'm done work a little after four, usually, but it depends on the day. "
I swallow hard and not. "Okay. How long until you have to . . . go back to work?"
I must have a pained expression on my face because a furrow forms between Blossom's eyebrows as she looks at me over her shoulder.
"What do you think my job here is, Bryce?" she asks me sweetly.
"I thought it was pretty clear that you're a stripper. I mean, this is a strip club," I answer cautiously.
Blossom lets out a beautiful, lighthearted giggle. "It isn't a strip club, actually. It's a gentlemen's club. They're different. And I'm not a stripper or a dancer. I was hired as a waitress, and I still am a waitress. I don't touch or flirt with clients, and I'm not very good on a pole, so I don't do that either. The only reason I started performing on stage is because my boss overheard me singing in the dressing room one day and thought live singing would be a perfect way to open the show. I sing one song every night, and sometimes my dress stays on and sometimes it doesn't. I wanted to play it up tonight because I knew you were watching."
I sit silently, feeling like an idiot as I realize how many assumptions I was making about her without even having a conversation first.
"So you're just a waitress. But you get to sing every night, so you're still living your dream a little bit," I clarify for myself aloud.
Blossom nods and gives me a sweet smile. Her red lips have faded since she first stepped onto the stage.
"Exactly," she tells me. "I'm not interested in touching clients. It's not something I feel comfortable doing. And I don't dance or strip because as I said, I am terrible with a pole. It's much harder to pole dance than it looks, and all of the girls here are extremely talented. I'm content to be a waitress because the tips are far better than what I would get at a standard restaurant and also because, as you said, I get to live my dream a little every day. That's why I stay."
As Blossom finishes her thought, the music suddenly comes to a booming end and all the dancers on stage freeze in place. Most of the men in the room are on their feet and clapping and cheering for the women as they blow kisses out into the audience before sliding down from their poles and sauntering to the back of the stage where they disappear behind a curtain.
Blossom is beaming at the empty stage when the lights brighten and the room is once again bathed in the sensual red glow I remember from when we first entered the club. The spotlights on the stage have been turned off and girls are already filing into the room in their usual red costumes from doors on either side of the stage.
"It still blows me away every time," Blossom says breathlessly. "You should see how many hours of work go into perfecting their routine every day. They never repeat a performance. I rehearse for a lot less time than them as my number is usually solo, but I still work hard too and so I can't even imagine their effort. It's incredible."
Before I can respond to her, Jordan clears his throat and Blossom turns to smile at him.
"Hi, Jordan. Are you visiting the city for awhile?" she asks him gently.
He nods, and I can see that he is struggling to keep his eyes focused on her face and not her body. "Yeah. I'm considering moving here after I graduate. A very generous job opportunity opened up here for me in a few months. I'm staying with Bryce and Matt and Vanessa for a few days to get a feel for the city."
Blossom smiles so broadly that it reaches her eyes. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you." She gently removes my arms from around her waist and pushes to her feet. "My boss assigned mr to your table for the evening. He didn't want to risk our celebrity client getting bad service. I'm going to go grab your table some drinks and food, if you want it. What can I get you guys?"
Jordan, Mateo, and Theodore place their orders, and when Blossom turns to me she looks up from her notepad and smiles. "For you, Mr. Bradshaw?"
"Just a glass of water with lemon, please. I'm still not drinking," I answer her.
She nods and kisses the top of my head before furiously scribbling something down on her notepad and turning on her heel.
I reach for her wrist to stop her and ignore the pang in my chest when I notice that she isn't wearing the charm bracelet I gave her either.
She turns to face me, a curious quirk to her lips.
"Yes?"
"Do you have chocolate milk here?"
A laugh bubbles up from between her lips. "I'm not sure, but I can check for you."
"An order of fries would be lovely, too."
She laughs again. "Of course, Mr. Bradshaw. Anything for you, sir."
My god, this woman is going to absolutely destroy me.
She twirls on her heel and flounces off to talk to Richard and his friends without glancing at us even once over her shoulder.
Once she's out of earshot, Theodore turns to me and looks directly into my eyes. "That's your ex."
I nod.
"Why the hell did you ever let her leave?" he asks in astonishment.
I chuckle and shake my head in bemusement. "Trust me, Theo. I ask myself the same thing everyday."
🌸🌸🌸
"I'm terribly sorry for the wait. We're very busy tonight, and I hoped you four would be a little more forgiving with me than the rest of your group," Blossom says as she appears between Jordan and Mateo and begins to set their drinks down in front of them. She walks around behind me to hand Theodore his drink as well before finally turning to face me.
"Water with lemon," she says, setting down the glass in front of me. Beside it, she places an empty glass and a small carton of chocolate milk. "For some reason, we had chocolate milk. I'm honestly surprised. I wasn't sure if you wanted it in a glass or not."
I smile as she sets down a basket of steaming-hot fries in front of me and tucks the now-empty tray under her arm.
"Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want me to pull you up your own chair or would you prefer to just sit on my lap?" I ask her softly.
She looks startled for a moment before her eyes dart to the carton of chocolate milk and realization sweeps across her features. "Ah. I understand now. I would love to sit with you, but I'm not sure that's allowed."
I make a show of looking around at the rest of the room. "Why not? Most of the other girls working are sitting and talking to guys right now. They all let the guys buy them drinks."
Blossom sighs and looks down at her feet. She's wearing a pair of sky-high satin stiletto heels in the same shade of pink as her lingerie. "It's a little different for me. I'm a waitress. I don't talk to clients. And you're not a client, anyway. You're . . . you."
I lean back in my chair and look right up into Blossom's eyes. "You said you were assigned to this table for the rest of the night. What else are you going to do if you don't stay and chat with us?"
This question seems to stump Blossom.
She huffs and elbows my arm. "Okay. I'm going to return this tray and talk to my boss for a second. I'll be back."
I beam at her. "Perfect."
Lexi's POV
Bryce follows me through the club as I search for Stephen's broad shoulders and hulking frame.
I consider telling him that I'm fine on my own, but he's been so sweet to me tonight that I just can't bring myself to say the words.
The moment I stepped into his room and our eyes met, I assumed he was going to lose his mind. I thought he was going to storm over to me, throw me over his shoulder, and haul me out of the club before I could even speak. I thought he would make all sorts of assumptions about me and my job before I had even spoken.
It turned out that I was the one making all of the assumptions.
When Bryce walked over to me, hugged me, and smiled at me as though I was his whole entire world, I nearly burst into tears.
And then when he sat down and talked to me about my job, when he tried to understand what I do and who I am now, I almost cried again.
So I don't say anything to him as he follows me silently, keeping several paces behind me to keep the illusion that he isn't stalking me. He pauses on the other side of the bar when I slide my tray behind the counter to Carmen, who has the prettiest ebony-black hair I have ever seen, and then he begins to follow me again when I head for Stephen's office, hoping that he's not wandering the club at the moment.
And then, me being the clumsy girl I am, my heel catches on a dip in the floor and I trip, stumble backwards, and begin to fall.
How graceful, Lexi. It's truly impressive that you can go from seducing a crowd of grown men on stage to falling flat on your face in a matter of half an hour.
Before I fall and make a complete fool of myself, two large hands are on my hips and Bryce is hoisting me back up to a standing position.
"Clumsy little thing," he murmurs.
I stick my tongue out at him as he hugs me against his chest and presses his nose into my hair. "You smell like my cologne."
I'm just about to spin around to face him when Stephen turns the corner, combing a hand through his hair and whistling merrily until he pauses and sees Bryce and I.
Stephen is an unfairly attractive man in his late-thirties. His golden skin, sharp jaw, icy blue eyes, and dark-as-night hair have nearly every girl who works at the club swooning every time he enters a room, and his charming smile and deep, husky voice win the rest over the moment he opens his mouth.
Tonight, his suit is navy blue and his tie is my favourite of his ties, a baby pink tie with little diagonal white stripes. Although red is the typical uniform of the girls at his club, our shared fondness for the colour pink is what allowed me to wear my preferred pink uniform most nights rather than the red lingerie the other girls wear.
I'm not quite sure how Stephen acquired the club, but I know he loves running the place. He makes sure all of us girls are happy and content at all times, and as soon as he senses one of his girls is uncomfortable, he'll be at their side and kicking out whatever man is making them feel unsafe in an instant. He was the one who hired me after a single brief interview, and despite my shyness and hesitance to work at a place like this, he made all the accommodations I needed to be comfortable rather than kicking me out into the street without a job.
Now, his eyes are scanning Bryce and I in curiosity. When his gaze settles on Bryce's hands around my waist, he folds his arms against his chest and clears his throat.
"Mr. Bradshaw," he says pointedly. "We have a strict policy here that our girls are not to be touched unless they give their permission. I know Alex is lovely, but she is simply your waitress for this evening. If you are looking for other services, there are plenty of other girls who would be happy to engage. Let Alex do her job, please."
I gently push Bryce's hands away and take a step towards Stephen, careful not to trip and fall this time. My favourite thing about him is the fact that he never pressures me to do anything I'm not comfortable with and that he is completely fine with the fact that I simply work here as a waitress and not a stripper.
I give Stephen my best smile. "Thank you. You know how much that means to me. But Bryce is the exception. Him and I are . . . friends. We've known each other since childhood. He knows my boundaries, and I trust him."
This seems to surprise Stephen, and a small chuckle escapes his lips. "I had no clue. I should've told you he was coming tonight."
Bryce steps up beside me and I slip my hand into his. He squeezes my fingers firmly when he says, "I'd like to hope that my presence was a welcome surprise."
I giggle and rest my cheek against his tricep. "Definitely."
Stephen can't stop grinning at me.
I feel my cheeks flush. "What?" I ask him nervously.
He shakes his head a little, still smiling to himself. "You come alive on stage. I've never seen you light up the same way off-stage until now."
My cheeks flush even deeper. "Bryce is very important to me."
Stephen inclines his head slightly. "I can tell. And I already know what you're going to ask; and the answer is yes. I need you to continue servicing Bryce's table, but when you aren't getting them drinks, you're welcome to spend some time with your friend. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart."
As simply as that, Stephen steps around us and strolls towards the bar where he stops to chat with Carmen. Her smile grows at the sight of him and when he rests his hand on the bar she places her own hand over his.
I look up at Bryce only to find him scowling.
"Sweetheart?" he hisses.
I can't help but to smile. "There's the possessive bastard I know. I was starting to miss him. Don't worry about Stephen. I'm like a daughter to him. Now, let's go sit down before Richard and his buddies decide they need more drinks."
I guide Bryce back through the club until we reach our table. Once there, we find the three chairs that Mateo, Jordan, and Theodore had been occupying now empty.
Bryce sits down in his seat and I claim Mateo's chair. "Some girls must have invited them to go for a private show. They'll be back in a little while."
Bryce nods and takes a sip of his water. He then glances at the chocolate milk and asks me, "Would you like it in the glass?"
I nod. "Yes, please."
I watch as Bryce opens the small carton of milk and pours it into my glass. He smiles at me when he slides the chocolate milk and basket of fries across the table towards me.
"Eat up. I know you haven't been eating properly lately," he tells me gently.
I frown and take a sip of chocolate milk. I haven't had chocolate milk in so long, and it's so delicious I could almost weep in joy.
"How can you know that?" I respond, eyeing the french fries wearily.
"You've lost weight." Bryce reaches over to rest his hand on top of mine. "I know your body very well, and I can tell that you've lost some weight, baby."
I look down at my lap. "Is that necessarily a bad thing? Plenty of the girls here are skinnier than me. I probably need to still lose a few more pounds."
Bryce squeezes my hand so tight that it almost hurts. "Oh, baby. No. Don't say that. Your body is different from any other girl's body. A healthy weight for you is not skinnier than this. I can see your ribs. I could never see your ribs before. You're already such a tiny girl. Your body is perfect as is. You don't need to lose weight."
I sniffle. "I promise that I eat. I don't eat a lot, but I still eat. I'll be okay. I just feel a lot of pressure to look a certain way now that I have to wear such skimpy outfits in public every day," I confess.
Bryce somehow squeezes my hand even tighter. "I'm proud of you. You're so strong. I know how hard eating is for you. Eat some fries, honey. You deserve to eat. You don't need to stop yourself from eating. Your beautiful body needs food."
I sniffle again and nod, unable to make eye contact. I pop a couple fries into my mouth and chew in silence.
Bryce takes some fries for himself and chews them slowly. Once he swallows, he reaches for me and tips my chin up so that I'm forced to make eye contact with him. "What do you think is wrong with your body?"
I shudder. "I don't have a 'model body' at all. I'm too short, for one, but my body isn't straight up and down. I have hips. And boobs. I don't fit into a size zero. Not at all. I wish I was just a little different. I wish I had a traditional dancer body. I wish I was taller and I wish I was . . . smaller."
"Well, I disagree with everything you just said. I love your height. I love how small you are, and I love our height difference. You're so fucking cute. But I love your body shape even more. It's perfect. You have the tiniest waist and the most beautiful hips and ass. I love your shape. You are so incredibly sexy. I wouldn't want to change a thing about you even if I could. You are perfect, my sweet girl. Absolutely perfect," he whispers to me.
His words stun me into silence, and all I can do is stand up from my chair and take a seat in Bryce's lap instead. I hook my legs around his waist and press my face into the crook of his neck with a shuddering sigh.
"Are you sure?" I whisper.
"Positive."
"What time is it?"
Bryce raises his arm to check his watch. "Midnight on the dot. Happy twenty-second birthday, beautiful."
I pull back and rest my hands on his shoulders. "You remembered?"
Bryce tilts his head to the side. "Of course I remembered. I'm sure you have a very bizarre sleep schedule because of this job, but do you have any plans for today?"
I shake my head. "No, not really. I don't see my roommates much because of our contrasting schedules. I shower and go to sleep as soon as I get home from work, so we really only see each other after I wake up and they get home from work. We only have a couple hours together before I have to head to the club. It's a little lonely."
"Roommates?" Bryce questions. "Plural? It's not just you and Kennedy anymore?"
I shake my head. "No. We moved from the last apartment we were in. Now we live in a slightly bigger place. My room isn't a closet anymore. We moved in with Knox's girlfriend Jane and another girl named Quinn. Sometimes it's nice to have so many people around and sometimes I wish I had more time to myself."
Bryce smoothes some of my hair back from my face. "Are you happy with where you are in your life right now?"
I shrug. "I don't know. Some days I am. But this isn't my dream."
"What is your dream?" Bryce asks, tilting his head to the side.
I can't help but to grin. "Broadway," I whisper. "Broadway is my dream."
Bruce chuckles and glances down at my body. I'm wearing my favourite costume, a baby pink ensemble with the prettiest flowery lace I have ever seen. My bra, underwear, and garter belt are all made of the beautiful lace, and my stocking are made of the softest mesh I've ever felt in the same rosy colour.
"You wear the belt to cover your scars," he observes.
I giggle. "You caught me."
His hands reach for me, and I expect them to land on my waist and trace my scars, but they instead settle on my arms. "It's chilly in here. You have goosebumps," he murmurs, brushing his thumbs against the small bumps.
I lift my shoulders in a shrug. "It's always cold in here. There are lots of sweaty bodies. It would be disgusting if they didn't keep the AC on full blast."
Bryce throws his head back and laughs. I can't help but to smile at the pure joy on his face.
"Fuck, you're the best. I miss you so much," he says, sliding his suit jacket off and handing it to me. "Put this on. I don't want the birthday girl to freeze to death."
I slip my arms through the sleeves and bundle myself up in the soft material. "We're growing up too fast. I thought adulthood would be way cooler than this. It isn't. It just sucks."
Bryce laughs and pulls me flush against his chest. "I couldn't agree more. Sometimes I think it would be a little more bearable with someone that you love by your side, though."
"Or in your lap?" I offer.
He chuckles. "I suppose that that works too."
A/N: I got vaccinated yesterday!!! Vaccine rollout where I live has been slow af but I finally got it. My arm is killing me but I'm very happy :)
I only have like 10 more days of school before the end of the school year and so this may be the last chapter before summer break for me. I'm just trying to push through and then hopefully once I'm done school I'll have plenty of time to write for you guys <3
I hope you liked this chapter and that it answered some of the questions that you had! I had a ton of fun writing it.