What She Needs

She had to move. She’d already embarrassed herself. Now, she had to pick herself up, leave the stage, and catch the bus home. Walk a few blocks. Then, cry herself to sleep without Brooks noticing. And he was the most observant sixteen-year-old she’d ever met, living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment that made it pretty impossible.

“Oh, babe. Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes to see Caramel standing there, looking concerned. At least she wasn’t laughing at her. She had heard someone laugh after she fell. Who was that?

“I could use some help getting up,” she said in a husky voice. This wasn’t good.

Not good at all.

Why did she think her back could handle this? It could handle the dancing if she didn’t go overboard... but pulling herself up and down and twisting around a pole? No way.

Caramel didn’t move to help her, though. Instead, she tensed and looked away.

Great. She guessed she’d have to crawl out of here. At least she wouldn’t have to see these people again, right?

“Are you injured?”

Oh no.

Please don’t be him.

She turned her face toward that cold voice.

Damn it.

She really had the worst luck, didn’t she? It was definitely him. He was now staring down at her with concern.

He’s probably wondering how the hell he’s going to get you off the stage so he can continue with his night.

“Elle, right?” he asked.

“You know my name.” Wow.

His face softened. “It was on your interview form, sweetheart.”

Well. Hell.

Too much to ask that he’d seen her across the room, fallen instantly in love, and questioned everyone for every detail he could find out about her so he could whisk her away on his yacht.

Urgh, no, not his yacht.

“I get sea-sick.”

“What?” he asked. “Did you hit your head?”

“It would seem that way, but no.”

“Are you sure? What hurts, then?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. Sorry. I’ll just get out of the way.”

His eyebrows rose as he crouched next to her. Wow, he was even sexier close-up. “Who said you’re in the way?”

“So. Darn. Pretty.”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

Uh-oh. Damn you, mouth.

“Nope. I was talking to Caramel.”

Caramel started laughing. “Nice as that is to hear, I don’t think you were talking about me.”

Yeah. She really wasn’t.

“What do you need? Gomez asked.

“I think I’m okay, other than my pride. And my butt. It’s okay, it can take it. It’s well-padded.”

He frowned. “Don’t speak about yourself like that. Are you sure you’re not in pain? What caused you to fall?”

“Uh, just slipped, I guess.” She decided to ignore his small scolding about how she’d talked about her bottom.

“Hmm.” He didn’t look convinced. Which didn’t make sense. “It looked like you were in pain before you slipped, Twinkletoes.”

Twinkletoes? That was cute. Even if wrong.

Focus, Elle.

Sometimes, it was hard to get her brain to think about one thing. Scatterbrained is what Nan used to call her.

“Ah, I’m fine.”

“Is that so?” he murmured. “Then can I ask why you haven’t moved?”

“Um, well . . . I . . .”

“Babe, just tell us what hurts,” Caramel told her. She didn’t sound impatient, just concerned.

“It’s my back. I’m so sorry. If you just give me a moment, it will stop spasming and I’ll be able to move.”

“Will I make it worse if I pick you up?” he asked.

“Ahh, no. But you don’t want to pick me up.”

“Have you got a flesh-eating disease that I might catch?”

“Oh no, I got that cured last week.”

His face softened. There wasn’t a lot soft about this man, so she took that as a win.

“So there’s no reason for me not to pick you up?”

“I know I’m holding everything up. And everyone is probably staring at me, wondering why I’m lying here like a beached whale, but really, a few minutes is all I need.”

She hoped.

Because the stab of pain that just went through her back told her that things were worse than she’d thought.

“Is she all right?” a fake-sweet voice asked.

“Fucking Lucy,” Caramel muttered.

“It’s just . . . we’re opening in half an hour. So if we need to get an ambulance and someone to help move her, then I need to get onto that.”

Wow. She was so kind.

“Lucy,” Gomez snapped.

“Yes, sir?” Lucy simpered.

“That was uncalled for.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I was only trying to help.”

Caramel snorted. “And my man has a small dick and doesn’t know how to use it.”

“Take it he’s well-endowed and knows how to use it?” Elle asked with a grin.

“Oh yeah, he sure does. And even if he wasn’t big, it wouldn’t matter. Because he’s all about making me come first.”

“Total keeper,” Elle replied. She managed to half-lift her arm to fist-bump Caramel.

Ouch. That hurt.

“Careful,” Gomez snapped. “That’s hurting her.”

“Sorry, babe,” Caramel said with a wince. “How about I help you?”

She reached down to grab Elle’s arm.

“No, wait!” Elle said.

But before she could grab at her, Gomez moved. He did it quickly and without hesitation. Suddenly, she was in his arms, and then he was walking toward the back of the stage.

“That’s seriously hot,” she whispered.

“A man carrying you?”

“Well, yeah. You must work out because I’m not exactly a lightweight.”

He shook his head. “You better not let Saber hear you talk like that.”

“Like what?”

“Putting yourself down. It’s something he’s not a fan of in women. Something I’m finding I’m not a fan of either.”

Meaning neither of them were fans of her. Right. She got it.

She bit her lip as Caramel rushed ahead of them.

“Sorry,” she told him. Even though she wasn’t quite sure why she was saying it.

“Stop chewing your lip.”

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“And stop saying sorry.”

“Is there anything you do like about me?” she asked with exasperation.

“Don’t really know you, sweetheart.”

“And yet you think you get to boss me around.”

“I’m not the bossy one. I leave that up to Saber.”

“You could have fooled me,” she muttered. If Drake Saber was bossier than this guy, then it was probably good he wasn’t here.

“I’ll open the dressing room door,” Caramel said.

“We’re going to my office,” Gomez stated.

Caramel stopped and turned to stare at them. “What?”

“We are going to my office,” he repeated in a low, calm voice. But one that didn’t invite the other woman to argue with him.

“Why’re we going to your office?” she asked.

“Because that’s where I want to go.”

“Do you always get your own way?” She was guessing yes.

“Most of the time.”

She sighed. “That must be nice. I rarely get my own way.”

“It is nice.”

“I can only imagine.”

Gomez escorted her into an office space. It was rather plain. It didn't quite match the sophisticated, attractive, and self-assured man who held her.

"Can I get you anything? Ice? Heating pad?" Caramel offered as Gomez gently placed her on a worn-out leather sofa with some cracks in the material.

Yeah, it had definitely seen better days. Just like the battered wooden desk in the center of the room and the old shelves along the back wall.

"I'm good," she replied. "But could you please grab my belongings for me?"

She had a strong urge to escape. Well, not that she could actually run. But leaving this place was at the top of her to-do list.

And she wanted to leave about twenty minutes ago. Before she embarrassingly made a fool of herself on that stage.

Her feet were throbbing from her ridiculous shoes. But the worst pain was in her back, which continued to spasm.

"No problem!" Caramel hurried off, which was quite a challenge in her high heels.

Elle remembered what it was like to wear high heels. She could move in them even better than Caramel.

In the past.

"Alright. Now, tell me what you really need. Should I call a doctor?" Gomez inquired.

"Um, pretty sure doctors don't make house calls unless you're royalty or something."

"They do if you pay them enough."

Wow. "You shouldn't have to pay them for a simple back spasm. I'm fine."