Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(93)
“You want some?” he mumbles around the chip, clearly trying to make peace. I give him a half-smile for whatever he did to encourage my niece to behave better in class, popping a purple orb into my mouth and chewing it slowly.
“I ate out with Tinley,” I say, glad that today's hangout session had little to nothing to do with Zayden. There was one brief moment where Tinley started to bring him up, but I changed the subject. Doubt she even noticed I was doing it. “But thanks.”
Zayden uses his tongue to pull the chip the rest of the way into his mouth and for whatever reason, I find that sexy as hell.
I glance away sharply which is dumb. There's no need for all of this drama, right? If I want to keep sleeping with him while he's here, he's made it perfectly clear that he's open to it.
“I'm going to start getting ready,” I say as I move away and head up the stairs, taking them two at a time until I'm alone in my room. Part of me wishes Zayden would follow me up here, but then I know that's impossible. The kids are all here, and they're all awake, and I stayed out long enough that I don't really have time to do much before work.
Work.
Ugh.
Having a few days off was almost cruel. Faced with the reality of going back to the Top Hat, I feel nauseous. It's just not the place for me. I feel silly thinking that because, really, who is it the place for? But I know that each night I dance there, a little piece of me will crack and break.
And I've never been good at repairing fractures in my heart.
“Stop it, Brooke,” I say as I slap my hands against my cheeks and shake myself out. This is ridiculous, sitting up here and fretting over a guy I've known for like, two weeks. So stupid.
I focus on picking out clothes for tonight, dropping the stack on the bed and heading into the bathroom to do my hair and makeup. Even though I leave my bedroom door unlocked, Zayden doesn't come up to see me like I secretly hoped he would.
I end up downstairs in my trench coat an hour early to find the kids wrapped around the table, elbows leaning against the wood as they watch Zayden play with one of those tornado-in-a-bottle things, with the two plastic soda liter bottles taped together. I vaguely remember making one in fifth grade, and it puts a smile on my face.
“Told ya I was a storm magician,” Zayden says proudly as he stands up and lets the water swirl from one bottle into the other, a big grin stretched across his mouth as Kinzie narrows her eyes on him and then grudgingly leans in to watch the spectacle.
I smile and let myself slip out the front door before anyone can see me. I've had about enough questions about my “fancy waitressing job”, thank you.
“Hey.”
I pause with my hand on the car door, a little thrill licking down my spine as I listen to Zay's boots move up behind me. He gets close—too close, but what's new about that—and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“You sure you're alright? I wouldn't want you to go to work feeling … I don't know, however it is that you feel.” I glance back at him and damn, but he's pretty. I suck in a breath and pretend like his looks have no effect on me, like the love and care he puts into these kids has no effect.
“How I feel?” I ask, not entirely sure if even I'm aware of the answer to that question. “Maybe it's not me that has a problem, Zay? Maybe you're the one that needs to check into his feelings. You date girls you don't like, and you tell girls you do like that relationships don't make any sense. I mean, unless you're lying about the whole liking me part of that equation, then I think it's you that has the problem.”
I open the car door before he can respond, listening to the long huff of breath he lets out as I get in and slam it behind me. Starting the engine up as Zay stands there and watches. He doesn't try to stop me though which kind of pisses me off. Guess that white knight meter isn't as loud as he thought it was? Because I sort of feel like I'm drowning here.
“Stupid,” I mutter under my breath as I start up some Nine Inch Nails and crank the volume.
At least the drive to the strip club is nice, rain drenched and shadowed by trees for the first half, fields where cows come out to graze in the mornings for the second half.
I head south past the community college and take in a deep breath as the round building comes into view, one entire wall of tinted windows facing the highway. On the roof, a cheesy fake top hat sits tilted to one side. Even though I'm early, the parking lot is already mostly full and I frown, feeling a tug and pull at my insides that makes me queasy.
Suck it up, Brooke, I tell myself as I pull into my usual spot near the top of the short windy driveway that leads to the cement lot. Get yourself together.
Since I have about an hour to kill, I tilt my chair back and close my eyes, letting the car rumble beneath me and the music play. There is no way in hell that I'm going in there early. Nope. Not a snowball's chance in hell.