Stay for Me (3 page)

Gabe gave her that look.
Apparently, her “I have only professional and platonic feelings for Sam Jason”
face sucked. And because they’d both served in the Army, Gabe and Sam were two
of the closest dancers. Inside, she crossed fingers, toes, even her eyes that
Gabe wouldn’t say the letter
S
.

Instead, he stepped up to her,
the snake swirling around the apple staring at her from his hand, and pulled
the traipsing piece of bang out of her eyes. “He’s not in
there.
I haven’t seen him since I came off stage just now. But I’ll
go find him for
ya
.”

“Thanks, hon,” she rattled out.

Gabe just bowed and strutted out.
His newly booty-pants-covered buns flexed in the most adorable way and she knew
it was because he was squeezing them with each step he took.
Always
toning.
All for the ladies, and the occasional
gentleman.
But no one’s buns were more eye-catching than Sam’s.

No one’s.

Maybe his not working here was a
good idea. Maybe it was necessary to her sanity and the only way she would ever
be able to move on. And let him go move on and find someone he was better
suited to. His body was beautiful, but so was his soul.
The
way he was always doing little things for all of them there at
S
.
He deserved and would want to
find someone he could make love to with everything he had, give himself over to
completely.

Sadness at not being able to
handle him always came back to haunt her.

Desperately, she needed to be
distracted again. Her mind slid to how the top rise of his bubble butt always
peeked out from the waistline of his pants.

No,
not the kind of distraction you need!
Her own
cheeks
ached to be touched with that large, protective hand of his.

Again,
Emma Lynne Chester, no!
Her mind again slipped and she wondered exactly how
demanding a lover he would be.

Forget
it, you’re a lost cause.
Emma sighed. As long as she kept these thoughts to
herself, that’s what mattered, right? More curiosities came. She gave in. Had his
time in combat left him rough and raw, somewhere under all that patience he
displayed? What sacrifice would he need from a woman?

“Stupid, stupid
girl.
Why did you ask to do this to him?” she muttered out loud.

But she knew. If anyone was going
to bring bad news, it had to be her. She just hoped he didn’t resent her for
it. That would break her heart most of all. How the man could continue to work
his ass off, balancing
S
six days a
week and his construction job a full seven, all for a mother who’d abandoned
him and probably paid no attention to who sent her the monthly check, made no
sense.
Until she remembered who she was talking about.

Honorable,
loyal, selfless Sam Jason.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid girl,”
she muttered again, then grit her teeth and prepared how she’d deliver the
news. She threw random pairs of briefs, tank tops and a smattering of cock
socks into the washer until she came to the only large pair.

His.

“I will not cry. We don’t fit.
This is not about me. It will never be about us.”

She measured a cup of detergent
to add and concentrated on filling it to the little raised line. Kind of hard
to do when your eyes were tearing up.

 
A few seconds later and three quick
tap, tap, taps
sounded at her door. Her
breath caught so hard she nearly slammed her hand in the washer. Fabric
softener she’d been measuring spilled and splattered over her shirt-dress,
making it stick to her goose-pimpled skin.

“Shoot.”

Gabe had been too fast and
efficient.

Sam was on the other side,
knocking his knock.

It was time to cut her best
friend down yet again. She’d wasted these last two years being afraid to “go
there” with him and now it was too late. This was good-bye.

Chapter Two

Sam rubbed the heels of his palms over
his eyes trying to wipe some of the tired away and waited. He rolled and
cracked his neck in an effort to perk back up and noticed a swipe of sticky
pink glitter over his left
pec
where his white shirt
hung open. He scrubbed the lip prints off, amazed at the agility of the woman
in the front row he’d pegged as more mature. These ladies were like a box of
chocolate. You never knew who might jump you. Sometimes it was the quiet ones. For
the most part, the ladies were pretty harmless, and he enjoyed doing something
good for them. Everyone needed an escape now and then, he understood that.

Tonight, though. Tonight had been
another amusing one.

Life was like that.

It was all about rolling with the
punches and taking one when you had to.

Tonight, he had to take one, but he’d
take a Mack truck careening down the highway if it meant manning up. Especially
when it was for the best friend he owed his life to.

Emma was not about to do this for him,
no matter what she thought she had up her sleeve.

Jay, dressed in what they joked was
their Flavor
Flav
getup, walked by and flashed him
three fingers, signaling it was almost time for Sam to return to the stage and
be part of the back line for the hip-hop number. Sam, dressed in the Navy
officer duds he’d hastily thrown back on after leaving the stage to go find
Ellen, waved his hand in a slicing motion near his neck and pointed at Donovan
who was his last-minute replacement. Now that Sam had tracked Ellen down and
resigned as a Stay dancer, he wouldn’t be going up there and popping, locking,
and dropping his pants. He’d had no time to tell the guys. That part sucked.

But there were other jobs he could get
and only one best friend who’d ever meant the world to him. He wasn’t letting
her put herself in this position.
No way, no how.
The
guilt would eat Emma up and spit her out.

His eyes might be trying to close every
two seconds, but this was important. He knocked again, three quick taps.

As soon as she opened up and looked at
him, he saw it. She thought she was about to seriously ruin his night.

He would take that off her shoulders
right about now.

“Sam,” she said first, cutting him off,
as usual. He just stared at her and winked, appreciating the usual when it came
to her.

She patted her loose blouse which
appeared wet in places, and he noted how distracted she seemed. He’d learned to
ignore his instinct to look away when a girl was acting like that and instead
kept his eyes on her. Working for women every night had taught him tons of
invaluable stuff—it was just a matter of remembering it all and in the right
situation.

Emma’s mouth opened. He couldn’t let her
be the first one to speak.

“Hey.” He hugged her then pulled back.
She needed to eat more, and her clothes were too thin. This office was way too
cold which explained why he often found her leaning against the dryer. “I’m
giving you a gift card to Vita-Max for Christmas. Your protein intake is
nowhere near where it should be.”

“Hey you back,” she said, rubbing her
hands together, ignoring him as usual.

“Damn.”

“What?”

“Donovan’s loaning you his space heater
until maintenance fixes the thermostat. I forgot to grab it.” Donovan talked
about Florida about sixty times a day and how he missed the weather but not the
drama. Yeah, Sam understood that.

“Wow.
His heater.
I’m impressed,” she said and moved from trying to warm her hands to giving it a
go with her arms. All his fault, but the room became that weird kind of quiet
for a couple seconds as he stood there, knowing this was when he should spit
out his news.
Too late.

“I’m glad you found me so I didn’t have
to go tracking you down. Gabe?” she asked, naming their mutual friend, a quiet
dude he’d relied on a number of times over the past two years. Gabe was
rational and bled green, just like Sam.

“Yeah, Gabe.”

“Good, well, do you have a second?” she
said. Her eyes scanned his face but skipped around, avoiding direct contact for
the most part. She was clearly uncomfortable, but he appreciated the way she
still made him feel like a person with thoughts. He would not let her take this
on herself.

Sam walked a few more steps into the ER
and pulled out her faux-furry chair. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?” he
told her.

Her brown eyes, a cool contrast to her
blonde hair, caught fire and questioned him. She was quick and wouldn’t let him
lead her around for long. But at least she took a seat.

“You?”
She gestured
toward her desk, but as one of the guys who’d helped put it together, he knew
the flimsy thing wouldn’t hold his weight. Instead he copped a squat on the
floor beside her.

Her office smelled like fabric softener
and Halloween candy. Yeah, they still hoarded it. Old high school habits die
hard. Damn, they’d come a long way since then. Truth be told, he was
gonna
miss her like crazy when he left here.

“You got any candy corn left?” he asked,
still finding it hard to believe how Mr. and Mrs. Chester had taken him in.
They’d never once alluded to the fact they couldn’t really afford another mouth
to feed. It was just one of those things you knew and didn’t talk about.

She pulled out a mini-bag and tossed it
at him. “Is the sky neon?”

He tore it open at the Vegas joke and
threw a piece her way, which she expertly caught in her mouth like a piece of
popcorn. He chuckled at how many hours they’d practiced doing that on his
balcony, and how pissed they both got whenever one fell to the downstairs
neighbor’s back porch.

So exactly how long would the two of
them sit here stalling?

Was there a better way to deal with this
work situation?

If he sucked it up and let Emma suspend
him, he’d have to go take back his resignation, but he’d stay on as a dancer
and still be able to pay off the
Chesters
’ mortgage
by Christmas as planned.

Helping the
Chesters
ranked at the very top of his bucket list, and after two combat tours in his
four years as a soldier, he’d vowed to
make
things happen, not
let
them happen.
Wasted time only pissed him off. Every time he reminded himself of that, Emma’s
face popped into view crystal clear because their past was the one and only
thing he’d yet to figure out, the one and only regret he’d yet to turn into a
positive.

Sam looked into Emma’s eyes and then
down to the floor.

If he let his resignation stand, he gave
up the ridiculous amounts of money he made here but kept his combat promise
intact.

No
wasted time. If something
ain’t
working, fix it.
Nothing should ever happen to you. You make things happen.

Hell, he’d find another night
job,
even if it meant stocking at the holiday madhouses they
called stores this time of year. Whatever he had to do to stay on task and help
the
Chesters
, who’d taken out a second mortgage to
send Emma to college, he’d do. It would just take him longer and yeah, he owed
her parents. Damn, he was about to get choked up at the thought and snorted in
a loud nose-full of air, hoping he’d played it off sufficiently.

His military uniform pants tightened and
pinched as he went down into a deeper crouch beside her, still trying to shake
off the emotional moment.

“Sam, you’re
gonna
be—” she started to say then stopped.

Damn, his chest felt like it grew two
sizes just then. Apparently his pride wasn’t
gonna
let him stay here, no matter how good the money was.

“I already quit, Emma. No one’s
gonna
be late tonight. I’m done,” he said.

“Wait. What? You quit?” Her brow pulled
into a
vee
and her cheeks flushed. Not like the male
revue virgins that came to the shows all wide-eyed and ready to feast, but like
she was legitimately angry with him. “You quit your job, here? Outright?”

“Yes.” What else could he say? He should
say more because no way did he want her twisting things in that stubborn head
of hers and shelving the blame. “It was time. I knew this day would come and
turns out today was
as good as any. I wanted you to know.”
Humor, he needed it. “Don’t worry, I won’t be showing up on your parents’ doorstep
begging for a place to stay again.” A tiny sliver of pain pierced his chest
where thoughts of his own parents were concerned.

“Hey, you never begged. I dragged you home
with me, remember?”

He did remember.
Every
detail.
Whereas he’d had nothing but the clothes on his back that day
after school, today he had savings and a day job and a dad up in heaven who he
hoped he’d made proud. He owed it all to the
Chesters
.