Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(106)

“You watched me. Without asking, you came and watched me.” Tears suddenly explode in her pale brown eyes and she dashes them away angrily as my jaw drops open and I feel a rush of crazy tenderness towards her. Damn it. My knight meter is pinging hardcore right now. “Why would you do that? Why would you come here?”

“You were fucking beautiful up there,” I say, but she's not having any of it, pulling away when I try to touch her and pacing to the opposite side of the room. I stand there for a minute and drop my hands to my sides as I try to breathe. Sweet baby Jesus, what have I gotten myself into here? This girl is young and damaged and shit, I can see that she's attached to me now. She's emotional and way too smart for her own good and she's got two inherited kids, but … damn it if I can't find fault with any of that. I like it all. All of it. Every single thing.

I lace my fingers together behind my neck.

“You were beautiful,” I repeat as she sits down hard on one of the sofas and looks up at me with weepy eyes. Those get me every goddamn time, those weepy eyes. I will do anything for a set of wet peepers. “I wanted to see you dance.”

“This … this isn't me dancing,” she says as she gestures at herself, pink glitter flaking off onto the black fabric of the t-shirt. “This isn't me at all. I'm not this.”

“Of course not,” I start, but Brooke's already shaking her head at me.

“You shouldn't have come here. Seriously. You shouldn't have. And I don't want you here, okay?” Brooke rubs the heels of her hands against her eyes and smears all of that dark liner and pretty pink eyeshadow.

I move over next to her and kneel down, trying to take solace in the fact that this room smells like bleach. At least I know it's reasonably clean, right? I fold my arms across the bare tops of Brooke's thighs, resting my chin on my arms.

“I'm sorry,” I say and I mean it. I had no idea she'd react to seeing me like this. I feel like I've cheated her somehow, stolen something that wasn't mine to take. “Do you want me to leave?”

Brooke sniffles and lifts her chin up in that defiant way of hers that I like so much.

“Why? You're already here? Why don't you just pay me for a lap dance and we can be done with all of this?” Brooke gestures loosely in my direction. “I didn't want you to see me like this,” she adds in a whisper, before I can say anything else. “This isn't how I wanted you to think of me.”

“And how's that?” I ask, my chin still propped on my arm as I stare up at those weepy eyes and try not to get all weirdly protective and shit. After all, who would I be protecting her from? Myself? “Because all I see is a tough ass chick who's willing to do whatever it takes to survive.”

“You don't see a whore?” she asks, like she finds that hard to believe.

“You're not a whore,” I say, and the words come out angrier than I intended. Whoa there, Zay, gettin' all deep and shit all of a sudden. This isn't me. I like to keep things light and fluffy and easy. This is all so fucking heavy. I'm finding it hard to breathe right now. “I didn't see anything up on that stage that was less than worthy, Brooke.”

She closes her eyes and tilts her head back against the couch, the matte black of the ceiling painted with fake stars. It reminds me of last night, of having her arching above me as I gazed up at Brooke's beautiful face silhouetted against the night sky.

“They want me to start giving lap dances tonight,” she says, and I feel a visible shiver go down her spine. “The manager told me I didn't have to at first, but now he's saying some of his best regulars are interested in me. He kind of insinuated I do it or get fired.”

I sit back on my heels and try to breathe. Who the hell am I to tell Brooke what to do? What I want to say is grab your shit and let's bail. But then what? Does that make me responsible for whatever happens to her and the kids? What if she drops out of school or something because she can't find another gig?

“He can't do that,” I tell her and she shrugs as she sits up. “It's fucking illegal as hell.”

“So? He'll just deny he ever said it. California's an at-will state anyway. He can just fire me and pretend it had nothing to do with the lap dances.” Brooke glances away as I stand up and reach down to touch her chin, encouraging her to look at me.

“Remember what I told you that first night? Don't do anything that compromises you, Brooke, that makes you feel like you're worth less than you are. I meant that. If you don't want to do this, don't.”

“I feel like I don't have a choice,” she whispers as she leans forward, and I realize this is about more than just the job or the lap dances, this is about me and the kids and her sister and this stupid fucking Podunk town. It's everything coming together in one angry mass. “I can't do this. I'm only twenty-two. Bella and I are only fifteen years apart. How am I supposed to parent her when I'm not even sure how to be an adult myself?”