Stripped Down (12 page)

He’d never been hung up on a woman. Never. Until now. She’d changed him, made him crazy in the best possible way, and he wanted so much more of her and from her. But with two jobs and his brother’s future on the line, he couldn’t afford the distraction for much longer. They’d agreed to keep it casual, and that’s what it had to be.

Leaning on his dresser, he looked in the mirror and snapped, “Focus, man. Focus.”

“You in here talking to yourself?”

Eric’s chin whipped up to find Blake’s reflection in his dresser mirror. His shirtless brother leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over an admirably cut torso. “You’ve been working out.”

Blake arched a brow and snorted. “Well, yeah. How the hell else was I supposed to be able to compete with you?”

Stilling, Eric didn’t even blink when he asked, “What are you talking about?” An uncomfortable shrug of Blake’s shoulders was all the answer he got, so he pressed. “I mean it, Blake. What are you competing with me for?”

“Whatever. Forget I said anything. It was just a stupid comment.” He pushed off the door frame, eyes downcast.

“Stop.” The command in Eric’s voice was undeniable.

Blake stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, face sullen. “What?”

“Answer me, Blake. You can’t throw something like that out there and then just walk away. That shit doesn’t fly.” He crossed his arms over his chest and spread his feet, lifting his chin just enough so that he was staring down at his little brother. It was his boardroom stance and usually got him what he wanted or where he wanted to go.

“You’re always so in charge, in control and stuff. You make big money stripping. Women throw themselves at you every night, so you’ve got your choice of tail. You’ve got this gig during the day that stands to make you a boatload of cash, too. It’s just...you’ve got it all together and there I am, sitting in a classroom wondering what the hell I’m going to do with my life. I don’t know where to go or what to do, but I look at you and...” He trailed off, eyes wide.

“Seems you’ve been holding that in for a while. Why don’t you finish the thought,” Eric encouraged softly. When Blake’s wide-eyed stare darted away, Eric relaxed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “And what, Blake?”

“I want what you have.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “All of it.”

Eric wanted to laugh and scream, hug his brother and shake the shit out of the kid who saw only what Eric wanted him to see. Taking several deep breaths, he focused on Blake. “Look at me, man.” Blake hesitated. “I’m not screwing around. Look at me.”

He lifted his gaze to Eric’s, the compliance almost defiant.

Eric smiled. “You’re more like me than you realize.” The urge to run his fingers through his hair and mess it up made him fist his hands. Glancing at the clock, he fought not to wince. He was going to be late if this heart-to-heart ran any longer than five minutes, and, in his experience, these things always ran longer. But this was his baby brother. If he had to, he’d talk until the sun came up. Nothing was more important. Cass’s image slipped through his mind and startled him, but he shut it down. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Blake, what you see is the superficial stuff.”

“That’s not true. I know what you’ve got going on,” Blake interjected.

“I didn’t say otherwise, did I?” Eric stepped closer to his little brother and felt the chasm of years and responsibilities between them, the two things that made them such different people. Blake still had the option to dream big. Eric had to make it big. Period. A kernel of resentment he’d believed long gone seated itself in his lungs and made his chest uncomfortably tight. Grasping the back of his brother’s neck, he gently squeezed. “Blake, I bust my ass, take my clothes off for ones and fives and shake my shit for women four nights a week. It’s not glamorous. The work is hard as well as physically and emotionally demanding. These women—” he tried to find the best way to put it “—they want the illusion, not the reality. Don’t you get that? They don’t want
me.
They want the man they think Dalton Chase is.”

His heart nearly stopped.
Isn’t that what Cass wants? Isn’t that what I’ve given her?
Hell, he hadn’t even offered her his real name.

Shaking his head hard, he huffed out a breath. “I would give anything to have the development company on its feet and making enough that we could survive comfortably off of it, but that may take a while. Hell, it may not ever happen.” Dropping his hand, he leaned his forehead against the door casing. “Just...don’t envy what you don’t completely understand.”

“Why didn’t you tell me how hard things were?” Blake’s quiet question held accusation.

Eric rolled his head to the side to face his brother nearly eye to eye. “Because I wanted you to have the opportunity that was stolen from me when Mom and Dad were killed.”

Blake swallowed, then asked the one question Eric didn’t want to answer. “What opportunity?”

“The option to choose, man. To choose what you want to be, when and how and where. I want that for you. I want it to be laid out in front of you like a menu so all you have to do is say, ‘
That.
That’s what I want.’ Then you go after it.”

Blake’s mouth thinned. “And what about you? What about what you want? You didn’t ask to be my guardian when they died. You didn’t ask for the responsibility of seeing me through college and shit.”

Eric slowly pushed off the door frame, his chest so tight now he could hardly catch his breath. “No, I didn’t ask for those responsibilities, but you’re my brother. I want the best for you. Nothing less will do. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you get it.”

This time Blake met his gaze, sure and steady. “You should have been straight with me about the financial stuff, Eric. There are things I can do to help. This isn’t all on you. It’s my life we’re talking about—I should own at least fifty percent of the responsibility for it.”

Eric chuffed out a laugh and shook his head. “Okay. I’ll be more transparent with the finances.”

“Not just that.” Blake didn’t look away. “You need to tell me when we’re in trouble. When I can help out. I’m twenty-two. I can manage the truth.”

“I get that.”

“Then trust me with it.”

The truth of Blake’s statement drove into Eric hard enough he took a step back. Covering, he turned on his heel and went for his shirt.

“Eric?”

“That’s fair.” Hands unsteady, Eric pulled on his shirt. “Promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Just promise.”

“Not until I hear what it is.”

Eric glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “You always so skeptical?”

“I grew up with you. I know the shit you used to pull, so yeah, I’m skeptical.”

Eric grinned even though it was the last reaction he expected to have. “Don’t ever strip.”

“No can do, brother.”

Eric nearly choked. “I mean it, Blake.”

“So do I. I was thinking I’d give it a shot. If I don’t like it, I can always do something else, but this is fast money we need.”

Eric shrugged into his leather jacket. Taking a deep breath, he faced Blake. “Wait a few days. Let me see if this deal for Sovereign goes through.”

“I audition at two tomorrow with Levi.”

“You called him already?”

“Woke him up. Guy’s a little grumpy in the mornings, huh?”

“Understatement. Okay, just promise me you’ll—”

“No promises, Eric,” Blake interrupted. “You didn’t ask my permission when you started to strip.”

“That was a different situation. I don’t want you to end up with something on your résumé that keeps you from getting the job you really want.”

Blake shrugged. “Maybe I’ll really like stripping. Never know.”

Eric opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. What could he say? What possible argument could he make to a good-looking twenty-two-year-old kid when he probably
would
enjoy it?

Rolling his shoulders, he grabbed his cell off the dresser and brushed past Blake. “Just remember to wear a condom,” he muttered.

“I don’t even work there yet.”

“I was referring to the audition.”

Blake paled.

“Women hang around early to catch the dancers,” Eric said, laughing.

“Oh. I thought you meant—”

“Nope. Levi practices heterosexuality like a zealot. He’s worshipping some body every night religiously.”

Blake grinned. “My kind of job.”

Eric shook his head, striding from the room and toward the front door.

Part of him died at the idea of Blake giving up the opportunity to dream big in exchange for the immediate, short-term payoff. Sometimes the bigger dream was worth so much more than the immediate reality—something he needed to keep in mind when it came to this thing with Cass. Yeah, it would be easier for them both if he broke it off tonight.

10

E
RIC SLIPPED THROUGH
the stage curtain after his last performance, sweaty and exhausted. Grabbing a towel, he wiped his brow and leaned a shoulder against the wall, still trying to figure out how to blow off meeting up with Cass.

“Hey, man. You okay?” Justin, one of his best friends, tagged his shoulder. “You’ve been off all night.”

Eric looked down at the money tucked in his g-string. “I thought I did okay.”

“You
always
do okay with the crowd. I meant here, in real life. Need help sorting something out?”

Shaking his head, Eric shoved off the wall. “Maybe later. I need to shower and get out of here.”

Justin’s eyes narrowed. “If you have somewhere else to be on a Saturday night when the floor’s as hot as it is, there’s a woman involved.”

“So?”

“So you’ve been nearly celibate for the past four years.” Justin took his turn leaning against the wall and blocked Eric’s exit. “I want deets.”

“Not many to give. I hooked up with the woman who hired me for the private party.” Memories of their evening, their morning after, their kitchen island experience filled his mind with vivid images of soft, pale skin, lush hair, long legs...

“Dude, you’re smiling.” Justin laughed. “She must be something if you’re seeing her again.”

Eric shrugged, oddly uncomfortable. “She’s pretty awesome.”

Levi, Eric’s other best friend and a club supervisor, stopped in the hallway. “What are you ladies chatting about?”

Eric snorted. “Hair, makeup, cramps—”

“Sex.” Justin tipped his head toward Eric. “Our boy here is finally exercising his questionable charm and getting a little recreational somethin’-somethin’.”

“Hey.” He tagged Justin’s shoulder. “It’s...”
What? More than that?
Clearing his throat, he rolled his head, stretching the muscles in his neck.

When Eric didn’t say anything, Levi’s brows rose in surprise. “Like that, is it?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Eric answered, shoving his way past the two men.

Levi’s hand closed over his arm, stopping him. “Hey.”

“Leave it alone, Levi.”

The other man squeezed Eric’s arm. “Just wanted to say I’m glad you’re having a little fun. Nothing more.”

A little fun.
He had no idea how to explain that it was more than fun when it wasn’t. Couldn’t be. And yet he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all night. Every time a woman touched him, it felt wrong. He hadn’t wanted anyone’s hands on him but hers, and that freaked him out. Less than twenty-four hours with Cass and he was already hooked on her—and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to break the habit.

Clearing his throat again, he glanced up, lips twitching. “Thanks. Now hands off before I begin to wonder if you’re hitting on me.”

“You’re totally not my type.” Levi winked at him and walked off, leaving Eric laughing.

Still leaning against the wall, Justin considered Eric intently.

Steadily meeting the other man’s gaze left Eric’s skin crawling with self-awareness. “What?”

“What else is going on?”

“It irritates the hell out of me that you’re a psychologist. You know that, right?”

Justin rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Few more months and I’ll have the doctor prefix to prove it. Consider this a free consult. What’s going on?”

Eric finally nodded and drew a deep breath. “Fine. I talked to Blake today. The university won’t allow him to enroll until I pay tuition. He’s insisting on getting a job and helping out.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Eric bristled. “Yeah? For whom?”

“Blake’s your little brother, but man, he’s not a kid anymore. He’s twenty-two. You’ve got to let him make some decisions, live with the consequences.”

His stomach somersaulted around in his belly like a Cirque du Soleil performer. “I don’t want him making the same mistakes I made.” He looked around and, dropping his chin to his chest, ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want him to end up here, but Levi’s interviewing him tomorrow. I want better for him,” Eric said, his words so soft they were nearly swallowed by the background music and open space and feminine shouts of approval. “I’m fine with this for me, but not for him. He’s...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Justin did. “He’s better than this, right?”

Eric’s chin snapped up. “Would you want your sisters stripping?”

“Not particularly fond of thinking of them without their clothes, man. In my mind they wear layers and layers of clothes. Just...don’t go there.” He shuddered.

“It’s no different with me and Blake. He thinks this is a glamorous good time, that it’s all booze, parties and hot women.”

Justin snorted. “It can be.”

“But he’s almost done with an Ivy League education. This isn’t something he needs on his résumé.”

“Maybe not, but here’s the thing. This isn’t about him. It’s about
you.
You’re terrified the world is going to find out that Beaux Hommes dancer Dalton Chase is actually Eric Reeves, real estate magnate in the making. You’re obsessed with keeping the two identities separate because you harbor this intense shame that you strip for a living. That’s all you, Eric. It’s probably part of the reason you’re so conflicted about this woman.”

Eric couldn’t have been any more incapacitated than if Justin had punched him in the throat. There was no air. “That’s not true.”