Chapter 4: It's just me, and that's all I can be

Taryn

              I head back to the dressing room as soon as my dance number is over. Sweat glides down my body, and glitter sticks to my skin, making me feel a little itchy. Before I make it to the room, I’m stopped by one of the club’s customers. The guy has been coming around for a couple of weeks, drinking and watching the girls obsessively. At first, I didn’t really pay him much attention because he looks like any other rich asshole who frequents the club, but recently he’s been persistent in getting my attention. He’s one of those men that looks too slick with his perfectly coiffed hair, thousand-dollar suits, and phony smile. I make every effort to avoid his presence when he comes around. It’s not just me, either. A few of the girls have noticed his creepiness. The first time he noticed me, he tried to buy a lap dance, but I refused. I’m not big on lapdances, and something about him gave me bad vibes that I couldn’t ignore. He’s persistent, though, which is why I avoid him. He has even offered to pay me a ridiculous amount for a private dance. Thankfully, Ralph, the club’s manager, understands and won’t push us to do anything we’re not comfortable with.

              “Hello, Candy. How are you tonight?” He asks with a sly grin.

              I shrug my shoulders. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” I try to get around him, but he dominates my space. I hate guys like him. The kind of guys that throw their weight around with women because they can. “How about I buy you a drink? I’d love to talk some more.”

              I give him a fake but polite smile. I may not like him, but it’s not a reason to rile a paying customer. “Sorry, but I have another customer waiting for me,” I reply evenly. There’s no way that I’m going anywhere with this creep.

              Before he can counter, I step around him and stride into the dressing room. Slipping off my thong, I toss it next to my lacy red bra and wipe my damp body with a towel. I don’t understand why he keeps trying to hook up with me. At this point, he’d get the message that I’m not interested, but the guy is clueless.

              Not giving it another thought, I slip on my clothes. I know it’s a little gross, but I prefer to take a shower at home. I don’t quite trust the cleanliness of the club’s showers. Once I’m done, I meet up with our bouncer, Armand, who leads me out of the club’s private door and waits until I catch my bus. Armand is a good guy and makes every effort to keep the girls safe. It’s one of the reasons why I still work at the club after all of these years.

              By the time I get home, I’m beyond exhausted. Dad’s already fast asleep in his bed. Thankfully, Willa lives next door, so it’s easy for me to work late. She’s kind enough to leave a baby monitor in dad’s room in case he needs her. I turn off the monitor and check up on dad before I jump in the shower.

              As I stand beneath the warm water, I can’t help but remember my birthday and Ewan. Even though it’s been days, I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. I loved the feel of his rough hands on my tender skin and how good his lips tasted against mine. I wonder if he’s thinking about me. Does he regret that we didn’t finish what we started?

              Closing my eyes, I reach for the sponge and run it across my arms and legs with a sigh. Soap sluices from the sponge to wipe away the night’s grime. I bite my lip and hiss with pleasure as I glide the sponge between my folds and clit. Lifting it up to my chest, I rub it against my rigid nipples and release a loud mewl. Need bursts through my body with every stroke of the sponge’s supple surface.

              I’m so horny that my body instantly ignites as my orgasm crashes through me. I can’t believe I came from just touching my clit and breasts.

              The next morning, I wake up thoroughly exhausted, which is nothing out of the ordinary. I can’t remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep.

              I know that I have a test in a couple of hours, but all I can think about is staying at home. At this point, the only thing that keeps me from crawling back inside of my bed is the fact that I’m almost finished with school.

              According to the clock on my cell phone, I have ten minutes to dress and walk out the door. The bus passes every half an hour, and I can’t miss it.

              As quickly as I can, I brush my teeth, wash my face, and slip into my white, high-waisted ripped shorts and Guns and Roses cutoff t-shirt. After I slide on my black leather boots, I grab my backpack and walk to my dad’s bedroom. “Good morning.”

              My dad looks up and gives me his usual crooked smile. “Hi, baby. Are you going to class?”

              I nod my head. “Yeah, and I’m running late, so I better go.”

              Dad reaches for his chair and is about to slip into it when it tips over. I cry out, startled, and run forward to catch him before he hits the floor. “Dad!” His juice cup spills and his plate shatters against the old laminate tile. “Are you alright?”

              Dad nods his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Shame colors his words as he clumsily fumbles in place. My father was always a proud man, and it kills him that he has become so dependent on us. I try to make it look like it’s not a big deal, but he sees through it.

              Willa walks in a moment later and helps me pick up the mess. I nearly topple over when she mutters. “Your dad had a visitor last night. A handsome young man named Ewan.”

              “What?” I shoot up from my crouch and look at my dad and Willa. My dad adjusts in his chair and leans back with a groan. “Yes, I was surprised to see the boy. He’s looking healthy and strong.”

              I want to know more, but when I look at the time, I grip my bag tightly and stumble to the door. “We’ll talk about this later, guys. I’m late for the bus.”

              Willa and my dad wave as I run out the door at breakneck speed. Regrettably, my heart falls when I see the bus’ taillights half a block away. I try to wave down the driver, but he continues on without a thought. Shit!

              Just then, a gorgeous black car stops next to me. The passenger’s side window opens to reveal Ewan in the driver’s seat. “Get in. I’ll take you wherever you wish to go.”

              I don’t argue because I have to get to class. Instead, I slide into the front seat, give him the address to the school, and sit back passively.

              “I heard that you visited my dad last night. What do you think you’re doing, Ewan?” I mutter accusingly.

              Ewan steers the vehicle from the curve, then glances back at me with a quirked brow. “I thought about our conversation the other day, and something seemed off. Why didn’t you tell me about your father or Tamsyn?”

              I give him a careless shrug. “Would it have mattered?”

              “Yes, it would have sodding mattered. All this time, I thought that your father recovered, and instead, I show up to find that he was worse off. I felt dreadful that I never followed up after his surgery.”

              I remain silent for a moment. I know that dad had his surgery because of Ewan’s sacrifice. I should have told him. He deserved to know. “I…I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you when I saw you the other day. It’s just…dad is a proud man, and he wouldn’t have appreciated your pity.”

              He nudges his chin in concession then continues to look back towards the road. “Why didn’t you tell me about Tamsyn?” He mumbles softly.

              “What was the point? You put her on a pedestal. Who am I to tell you otherwise?”

              I know that I sound bitchy, but I don’t care. I’m so tired of hearing about Tamsyn. For once, I’d like to be the person someone asks about.

              “Let me help you then, Taryn. There’s no reason for you to work two jobs. Let me pay all of your father’s debts.”

              My eyes whip back to his. “Why would you do that?”

              He shrugs. “Because what my father did to yours was unfair. He shouldn’t have fired him. He should have helped him.”

              The cynical part of me rises to the fore. For years men have tried to “help” me, but it was always at a price. I learned early to definitely look a gift horse in the mouth.

              “What do you want in exchange?” I ask evenly.

              Ewan’s face blanks at my words. “What do you mean?” He asks gruffly.

              “I mean, no one ever wants something for nothing. Not even your father.” I mutter mournfully.

              How well I remember my exchange with Stuart after I begged him to help my father. For a long time after that, I was scared of being touched. It took me years to get over the things he did to me when I was a desperately vulnerable sixteen-year-old girl.

              Ewan’s eyes glaze over coldly at my words. “What do you mean, my father? Did he do something to you?” His voice is steely, and his jaw ticks.

              I shake my head as tears gather in my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Please, just take me to school.”

              “Tell me, Taryn. What did my father do?” He persists.

              Shaking my head, I swallow past the constriction in my throat. However, I can’t help that my heart is beating wildly, and my breathing quickens. I don’t want to think about what happened. And I sure as hell don’t want to talk about it. Nausea threatens to purge from my lips as I recall every moment of that day. Lips trembling, I cross my arms in front of me as if I can ward off the bad memories.

              “Please, don’t ask me.” My voice quivers, which I try to control unsuccessfully.

              The car slows down and comes to a stop, but we’re nowhere near my school.

              Ewan puts the car in park and gives me an intent expression.

              He raises his hand and caresses my jaw so lovingly that I feel faint.

“Please, don’t, Ewan. It doesn’t matter. Nobody cares. No one has ever cared. I’m just the extra. The forgettable one.”

              “What makes you say that?” He asks sternly.

              I roll my eyes and tighten my lips. “I’m sure you saw Tamsyn after you came back, and it’s obvious that you kept tabs on her. Did you ever wonder about me?” I mumble forlornly.

              Ewan looks down at his lap, but I don’t miss the guilty expression on his face. I’m not surprised, though. I was always the afterthought, even with my own family.

              “Don’t worry. It was a hypothetical question that I already knew the answer to. No one ever cared…but I did what I had to do for my father.” My voice catches, and my words come out in a breathless whisper.

              His face softens with pity, which quickly puts me on the defensive.

              “Don’t! Don’t pity me!” I slap his hand away and wipe a stray tear from my cheek, then look away.

              “I don’t pity you, Taryn.” He replies in his crisp British accent. I can feel the heat of his eyes on me, but he doesn’t comment further. Instead, he pulls the vehicle back into traffic.

              “You know, I used to have a massive crush on you. Of course, you never noticed me. But Tamsyn knew, and she used to torture me for it.” I say in a conversational tone.

              Ewan smirks. “Actually, I did notice.”

              “You did?” I ask, surprised.

              Ewan nods. “I know that you were the one that made me cookies and left them in my school bag so I wouldn’t be hungry. Tamsyn hated baking. I also couldn’t miss my little shadow following me around the house.”

              I bite my lip and release a relieved sigh as soon as we stop in front of the campus doors. “Thanks for the ride.”

              Ewan's hand settles over mine as soon as I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for my bag. “We aren’t done talking about this, Taryn. I still want to help your father. Consider it retroactive pay for all of the money my father owes him. I don’t expect anything in return. I promise.”

              I nod my head and glance up with a start. Our lips are a hair’s breadth from each other. I can’t help but focus my gaze on his plump lower lip and lick mine. This time the kiss is a gentle brush. We hesitantly taste and nip as if memorizing each other’s taste. However, chaste the kiss feels; my body is blazing with desire. Every thought in my head fades away to be replaced with lustful images of us together. His tongue meets mine, parrying and swirling as his hands roam my back gently. My breasts tingle at the feel of his hot hands on my skin and my folds swell with need.

              Sighing with pleasure, I sift my fingers through his silky hair and pull him close to fuse his mouth with mine. It isn’t until someone honks the horn nearby that we both break apart. Our chests are rising and falling erratically, our lips are swollen, and our eyes are heavy with desire.

              I lick my lips again, stifling a groan when I taste him. “I should go,” I whisper softly. I don’t want to raise my voice because the moment feels so intimate.

              Ewan caresses my jaw before he pulls away, reaches for a card on his visor, and hands it to me. “This is my number. I want you to call me when you find the time so we can coordinate a way to fix your father’s situation.”

              I open my mouth with a rejoinder, but before I can, Ewan settles his index finger on my swollen lips and mutters. “Please, don’t fight me on this. I want to help, and I will. I just want your cooperation.”

              The urge to refuse is on the tip of my tongue. However, I don’t voice my objections. I have to think about my dad, and if Ewan can help him, I would no longer feel so burdened. There’s no point in being contradictory. “Alright, I’ll text you when I have the time.”

              My body hums with unrestrained lust throughout the day. I’m so confused by his kiss. I know for a fact that this time he wasn’t thinking about my sister.

              I’m so distracted by thoughts of our kiss that I don’t even know if I looked at the questions in my exam. Hopefully, I passed the test.

              Heart in my throat, I text him that night before I head to the club.

              I’m available tomorrow after work. I should be out by noon. Where should we meet?

              His response comes several seconds later.

              I don’t want your father to know about it. How about I pick you up from your workplace and we come back to my home?

              My heart speeds up with excitement. We’ll be alone in his beautiful house. Maybe he’ll kiss me and touch me again─ or maybe he won’t. Either way, I don’t know how to feel about it.