Chapter 10

With a slow, teasing grin, he blew her a kiss.

He heard TeeCay gasp audibly beside him and then she suddenly latched onto his arm like her life depended on it. Her nails dug into his skin.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, wincing.

“Please bear with me,” TeeCay whispered, her voice trembling from excitement. “I’m seriously freaking out right now. If I don’t cling to something, I feel like I might pee my pants.” Her grip tightened.

All he could do was grit his teeth and endure it, though her nails felt like tiny daggers. Around them, the screaming only grew louder as the performer continued to move sensually across the stage.

He gave her a sideways glance. “I didn’t know hurting your escort was part of the contract?”

“I’ll tip you extra,” she replied absently, eyes wide as she watched the man slowly unzip his jeans.

He shook his head in disbelief just as the waiter returned with their drinks. He took both glasses and handed TeeCay her Apple Martini.

“Okay, let go of my arm and drink up before your claws leave permanent scars.”

She let go as instructed, took the drink, and lifted it to her lips, all without tearing her eyes away from the stage. At the same time, the man on stage slipped out of his jeans in one slow, fluid motion.

The ladies in the room went wild.

He swung his pants in the air like a warrior waving a flag of victory.

Behind him, a massive screen lit up, displaying his stage name in bold letters: SHAWN SHADOW. Obviously a name crafted for performance and seduction.

Shawn Shadow dropped to his knees, grinding against the stage floor in ways that mimicked real intimacy. It was like a live version of Magic Mike, the film Jeff and Deewee once watched in his dorm room. This guy was clearly a professional. No wonder the room felt like it was about to combust.

He turned back to TeeCay, and nearly choked on his drink.

Her glass was already empty!

“What happened to your drink?” he half-yelled over the music.

“Gone,” she shouted back, her eyes still fixed on Shawn.

He didn’t know whether to get her another drink or switch to mango juice. What if she got drunk and couldn’t drive home?

“Can you please order me another one?” she asked, pleadingly.

“How are you getting home if you get drunk?”

“Then I won’t go home.”

“You have to go home.” What on earth is this girl thinking?

TeeCay finally looked at him and gave the sweetest, most rebellious smile.

“This is the first and last time I’ll ever step into a place like this. First and last time I’ll drink alcohol. First and last time I’ll break my family’s rules. That’s why I hired someone to be with me tonight. I needed support. So, please?”

She looked at him, eyes wide and vulnerable, her voice trembling beneath the weight of every word. This wasn’t just about a wild night out; this was a quiet rebellion, a long-held breath finally exhaled.

He stared at her, his chest tightening. For a moment, the din of music, the screams, the lights, all of it blurred into a dull hum in the background. He took a long, steady breath, as if trying to inhale some courage along with the smoky air. His shoulders rose and fell with the exhale, and finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod.

And that’s when it hit him hard, like a slap that left no mark but stung all the same.

This night wasn’t about him. Not really. He wasn’t here as himself. He was a stand-in. A borrowed presence. A hired hand paid to be someone’s lifeline, someone’s anchor in a moment when she chose to break free.

The illusion of connection wavered, and for the first time that night, he truly felt the weight of what Jeff’s job meant. The blurred lines, the complicated truths, and the quiet ache of pretending not to care when something inside him already did.

Damn you, Jeff. This is what you do every night? I'm going to slap some sense into you tomorrow. Just you wait!